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Poetry > The Old Oak
The Old Oak
Growing up seems so painful these days, with entanglements always near, whether invited or not. I have always wondered if someone besides the good Lord could have begun some "sure thing" that would have made less troublesome steps and efforts, and a few more pluses in life.
I've just about concluded that the answer is no... maybe with a capital N! I really had begun to realize that many years ago and have just been piddling, to kinda make certain that my conclusion is valid. I think my dad could have, would have told me (actually, I think he did) that you get what you got and you've got what you get. In other words, our labor is our reward (if you need one) and our reward is our labor.
Love is its own reward. It's quite difficult to love and not get back in one form or another... maybe we don't always want it back in the same form we gave. I have come to think that the love returned is closer to the source because it grows and compounds the majesty and the value of it!
So, what is this introduction all about? We'll, it's like this... the following poem is probably as close as I'll ever come to saying what love is, unless I say that God has given the Best, beyond a doubt, in the form of His risen Son. Here is "The Old Oak", and it's about the same love, just passed through a wonderful family.
|The Old Oak|
The old well had always been there,
That was over a hundred years or more ago,
We had a passel of chickens and rabbits,
The 'old oak' seemed to make things right,
We built a patio under the halo of shade,
My dad built a shop where chickens had been,
We had many-a family gatherings there,
The 'old oak' watched many babies grow-up,
The 'old oak' saw generations come and go,
Mother and daddy are gone from here now,