The Old Oak Poem by micheal udenyi

The great greyed oak tree
from root sorely is shaken
all about do fly off board
all go against their natural cause

The olde unwrinkled oak tree
sheds its leafy tears
nothing could appease the omen
of death well undeserved

Surely the sacred eggs are all broken
but no omelette unspiced emerged
surely the priest his sacred red robe has worn
but none he foretold ever came to pass

Okey dokey the birds are fled
anarchically and bushward bound
the tiny string of rope that binds them together
now bears a knife and alas blood is water

The hollow trunks no longer accommodates the wilds
the branches now strains under the weight of little ravens
it no longer can hold the grip of the monkey's forensile tail
nor grasp the grisping scales of the elongated green snake

the acorns too are yellow and sickly fallen
her leaves are suddenly grown brown and fruitlessly withered
none watered, none trimmed, none to thrust her children upon
finally she gave a long remorseful sigh and took her rest in peace.