Beneath the covered canvas of the ancient oak tree
multitudes of miniatures creep secretly
A safe haven of sheer pure delight
Camouflaged from predators,
hidden out of sight
Crawling, clinging, climbing wild and free
Dwelling in Mother natures
old relic of beauty
There in the shade from the sizzling sun
Spider’s silky webs are spun
Dangling silhoutes glistening gold
Silvery latticed patterns unfold
Woodpecker on a mission
knocks his echoey tap
Injures the bark flowing thick, resin sap
Running thru the branches, oozed amber waxes and wanes
This mighty oak bleeds brown blood thru it’s veins
Soft feathery nests secured steadfast
Fledglings have flown
Springtime has past
Seasons surge on
ne’er standing still
Winter’s wrath, arctic icy chill
Insects, arachnids, mimiscule, minute
Thriving amidst oak’s foliage parachute
Varieties of birds nestling happily
Sharing oaks’s twisting boughs
with the industrious honey bee
Wondrous morning dawn chorus of twittering song
The gigantic, glorious oak immortality, evermore lifelong…
Copyright@Jill Tait
05.10.23’
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