My tree

The rustle of copper
My Queen is awake
A beech in the shadows
She’s never a fake
Against the blue backdrop
Serenely she stands
With branches that glisten
And great waving fans

Out of the sod
She rose to acclaim
Fire in her belly
The wind she could tame
Her great trunk supreme
And her ivy trails too
She is guarding my soul urge
Whatever I do

Classically trained
To dance in the breeze
Every nuance is beautiful
My eyes she does please
She shades us from sun
And allows plants to grow
With the bluebells a ringing
Ahead of the snow

Yes it is April
where frosts still abound
Her gown vibrant copper
Thats what I have found
Pigeons like to sit on her
Trestles of green
With their white ermine collars
And bodies less than lean

As evening approaches
Her leaves darken so
Her ebony ball gown
How it does flow
Playing with light
Searching for the moon
My beautiful Queen
Always in tune