Ash Trees Poem by C Richard Miles

The ash trees tremble, fearful by my windows
In terror from mean autumn gales that blow
As cry their tears of russets, browns and yellows
Which fall as thick as driving winter snow.

The ash trees shake their heads in meek submission
And whisper to the breeze their pleading Noes!
But wicked winds maintain their chilling mission
To terrorise each leaf which dares to grow.

The ash trees bow before this strong insistence
Capitulating; they have tried their best
And, as the storm flees, gloating in the distance
Exhausted, branches sleep and take their rest.