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a poem from the viewpoint of an oak tree |
| do not fear this dark night for I will help thee bloom do not be weary of thoust plight for this is where the oak looms thoust beauty is wondrous to all and will be sought by many. those who want to harm you will come in plenty. But still do not fret Thoust life is in mine hands. Shield thy self in mine leaves For the rain is harsh. Hide thyself in mine shade For the day is long And the sun be brutal. I am strong for thee I am wise for thee I am a protector, a lover, a child for thee All for thee. . . because of thee. Sleep well mine blossom, dream thy good dreams I will watch over thee As taught by thine archaic theme. |