The Song of the Trees

 Down by the river

Just a furlong away

There stand two strong trees

beckoning you to sit in their shade.

 

There are stories written

On their trunks

And if you press your ear against their roots

You can hear the drums.

 

If you raise your head to the leaves

That shimmer and dance in the wind

They will whisper a song to you

If you have the patience to hear them sing.

 

This land was once

The greatest we’ve seen

With muscular men

And women who’d lead.

 

This land, you see

Was the greatest

With renowned bravehearts

Who achieved every conquest.

 

Oh, this land! This land we were born from

The people deserted it all!

They called it  old 

Left their homes to fall.

 

Oh, this land! This land so glorious before

But for us, the ones who detest change

The tales will live on,

In the murmuring mist,

The dew studded webs

We shall keep singing it’s lore.

And when nothing but our stumps are left

When our wood has been carried away

When this land goes bereft

Of it’s true citizens who laughed and played

We shall sing on

Under the ground, in the murmur of the stream

This land will never die

It is a promise, a vow we made,

That this land shall flourish

Even though it may not be seen.


 

 

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