Monday, January 23, 2006

My Tree;

A tree has grown against the past;
Her leaves are green while evening lasts.
Throughout the field where scent abound,
In shine of day she shades resound.

Against the breeze that swayed her leaves,
She glides with ease and gently breathes.
Birds have come and called her home,
I'd see them sing but they have flown.

She stood with poise and just as fair
As the moon that lights her gracious hair.
A tree whose fruits are sweet with touch,
She grants delight well sought too much.

A tree has grown against the past;
She lifts me up and it shall last.
Towards the night she fills my day,
Beneath her shade-tonight I lay.

Jan Rheinold Amoyo
January 23, 2006

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