Beware Old Tree

Beware Old Tree
By Suzanne Roman



Beware old tree you stand too close
To the pond whom awaits your fall.
He’ll swallow you up just bits at a time
Trunk, middle and limb.

He’ll digest you at his leisure
For this brings him much pleasure.
Hoping you’ll drag an unsuspecting someone down;

His surface is patient and calm
Reflecting sun, shadow and hew.
Beneath is where mystery looms
His soul and sorrows glide,

Under the prickly paws that break the surface,
Past the roots of Bulrushes brown,
Between the grasses green,
And settles beneath the cloudy muck.

Oh how he watches you old tree!
Oh how he watches me!