Faye Sizemore


The Old Oak is down…
It stood for one hundred years
on the hill above the town
Thunder and lightning last night
and wind it could not withstand
… the Old Oak lost the storms fight

It had stood sentry there…
one hundred years and more
There was not much it had not seen
It was here before the first lamplight’s gleam
It saw the Blue and the Grey in Civil War
It saw dying and heard the cannons roar
and in the haze of battle’s smoke…
it saw the oppressors
… and those under the yoke

It watched as progress came
… and Henry’s Horseless carriages
traveled the country lanes
The town boys in their youth
always met under it… telling lies
… and sometimes truth
The men would seek its shade
as the plow to the land they laid
One hundred years of lovers
had sat with their arms entwined
‘neath its branches and honeysuckle vines

Oh… the things it saw as time went on
of dark times and rejoicing days
But it is no more… for on the ground it lays…
shrouded now in its funeral clothes…
of newly budded leaves of spring green
‘twined around with honeysuckle and memories
… dreaming… of all the things that it has seen