The Oak Tree

In the forest there stood an oak,

Amongst the willow, ash and elm,

And upon the breeze words were spoke

From deep inside that wooded realm.

The oak had fallen bye the bye,

The word it came upon the breeze;

And sad amongst to hear them sigh,

The mournful whispers in the leaves.

"The oak is dead long live the oak."

Amongst the willow, ash and elm;

And boughs were bent and some were broke,

For who amongst could take the helm?

In the forest upon the breeze,

The mighty oak where time has felled;

A grave sadness amongst the trees,

For such a place it always held.

"Yes, few they grow and far between,"

Upon the breeze such words were spoke

And in the forest where they lean,

The trees will miss the mighty oak.

      Read at my Father's funeral.