The Old Oak tree

The day was sunny, warm and bright
when the young boy saw a wonderful sight
standing tall with branches fine
there an oak tree fit to climb

He hasty made to his upward call
upon bark and branch to conquer all
with clasping hands upon outstretched arms
he grappled with the great oaks charms

But halfway up his grand ascent
fear came and courage went
the oak was not yet to be beat
as swift the boy made his retreat

But now that winter’s much in sight
and the young boy sees his darkest night
he returns once more to see
the splendor of the old oak tree

Then he muses with a sigh
did I once think to climb so high?
he then looks down upon his knee
at the scars still there from the old oak tree

These hands of mine are withered now
and I have no zest within my brow
and yet with wonderment I see
the splendor of the old oak tree