To Thy Old Birch Tree

To Thy Old Birch Tree.
 Ever since I was three.
 You have been standing  
 behind my grandfather's old
 tool shed.

 To Thy Old Birch tree.
 The one with the old tire swing.
 Where when I was nine, I tried to
 built a tree house. Lost my footing and
 broke my wrist and fell upon a bed
of leaves.

 To Thy Old Birch tree.
 The one among a field of dandellions.
 Where in thy bark hides the initials
 of true love. Where when I was fifhteen
 Had my first kiss.
Leaves fallen, icicles built
 upon your branches. Drips away dead
 winters wrath. In the warmth of the sun

 To Thy Old Birch tree
Home to thy wandering gnome.
The curious dragonfly that flies
 beneath it's leaves. That old treehouse
 has become a haven thy Robins nest.
 

 To thy Old Birch tree. It's been 40
 years I come back to grandpa's
 although bare, withered and fragile.
The sun's rays shine a bit of warmth.
Casting a gentle glow.
come back to visit my grandfather's
 grave stone.

 On his tomb stone reads;
" We are born from this earth and from
 this earth we are one and when we
 leave this earth. We leave our memories
and go back home."

To Thy Old Birch Tree.
Keep my family close.
Tool sheds gone.
Through the window
I still see the rope, but no tire.
Still see treehouse now gone
Grandfather smiles back.
Beneath the Birch tree.