That old Tree
There was an old tree
in our yard growing up
it sat alone in a corner
for all to see.
I used to sit in that tree
and dream beauty of dreams
That tree was old, as years gone by
though was not frail, standing strong
that tree was tall as it reached the sky
and lived through time long.
In that tree I felt safe, at peace.
Even through changing years
that tree does never cease
in my heart that tree appears.
In the winter it would shelter the rain.
In the summer shade the rays,
and during autumn days
the garden would flood
with red, brown, and gold
and come the spring, flower buds
shall blossom again.
That old tree, with all it gives
shelters the rain, shines and shades
falls, then blossoms again.
That tree is a tree where friendship lives.
Kristy Holtum
Eight has been a tough age so far. A struggle between being independent and still needing help for a few things. There has been crying, hugging, laughing, more crying, snuggling, moments of annoyance for everyone and a whole lot of grumbling. I am glad that Coley has found a quiet spot where he can be still and let the thoughts and dreams flow.
