He Stands Alone. Poem by Graham Jones

He stands alone now etched by time
As though was meant to be
His frame all bent and twisted
For all who pass to see

It wasn't always as it is
When children came around
To run and laugh and shriek with glee
He revelled in the sound

But age and weather took its toll
And disease had hit him hard
A surgeons cuts had saved his life
For which he didn't charge

And so he stands alone but proud
To survey what could be seen
The only oak for miles around
Upon the village green.