All The Trees
All the trees I knew are gone.
(An English Quintain)
All the trees I knew are gone.
Removed by fear and greed.
No longer to sing a song,
As wind blows through their leaves.
Never again to drop a seed.
The trees of our childhood delight
Where I carved her name, like we’d never part.
Where we camped under at night,
or cried with a broken heart.
Where plans were made for a new start.
The old tree house broke into bits.
The tree where you fell and split your head.
Where long gone grandpa cut a switch,
Under which we gathered, and she said,
“I Do”. And followed where ever he led.
— — -
Bio: Chris Bunton is a writer, poet and blogger from Southern Illinois. He has published in several magazines, and has written a poetry eBook called “Against the Man” and an Addiction Recovery eBook called “Made Free: Overcoming Addiction“ a collection of dystopian short stories.“The Future is Coming” and his latest book “The Latter Days‘ is a book on Bible Prophecy and avoiding the deceptions…