The Tree Poem by Frank Halliwell
The Tree
This ancient leafy giant
that's endured three hundred years
Seems to tremble as the chainsaw.
through it's heartwood rips and tears.
It stood tall when the 'Endeavour'
plied these golden coasts of old,
And gazed down as Bourke and Wills passed by
on expeditions bold.
But now it lies, a shattered thing,
among the forest litter.
A sacrifice to ancient lust for
things that gleam and glitter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 8:59:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
