The old Beech

A ripe old Beech,
a noble soul,
now looks the worse for wear its role,
was once of sacredness
And so now,
it’s all fenced off I wonder how,
It feels alone tired and sick,
nobody comes it’s nuts to pick
it’s leaves to ponder over, it,
is old and failing and far from fit.
its branches splayed around its feet
Autumn is coming and it must compete
with the other trees it will lose its leaves and of course be bare
and for one so noble it’s hardly fair.

Lovely little story Veronica thanks for posting