Ode To the Mighty Oak
by Wanda Hodge

I found a stream and followed it to see where it would go.
It led me to a big oak tree and under it did flow.
The tree was old and bent with age, it's life still lingering on.
With birds a perch in every branch where bugs had found a home.
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I thought if only you could talk the many stories you could tell.
Of all the lives that's come and gone, like the scattered leaves that fell.
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I wondered what you were thinking, remembering days gone by
When lovers carved their name in heart and vowed it'd never die.
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What about the battle cries when death was at your side,
The blood that spilled from soldiers felled while in your shade they died?
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Where lies these ghosts from days gone by, are they as scattered leaves.
blown upon the earth by winds of time as far as eyes can see?
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Are leaves to life as pages of books each with a story inside,
Remembrances of another time, when we laughed and cried?
How many storms have you endured through all the years you've known.
Where wind and rain the trials of life have only made you strong?

Your friends the many birds who sang, while perching from on high,
Shared with you the things they saw so nothing passed you by.
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How many other mysteries your wise old branches grasp,
If only you could talk to me and share life's secrets past.

This poem is dedicated to my Grandfather  'Claude F. Mills'. The son of a Civil War orphan,
who's own grandfather, a doctor, and grandmother died from exhaustion treating the wounded
and dying during the battle of Shiloh
Claude, grew in knowledge and wisdom throughout his life and died at the age of  94.
He and my Grandmother, Maude Mills (Weeks) lifelong companions, were married 72 yrs
Poppie, "I love and miss you.  You are still the greatest source of love and inspiration in my life today. Thank you for sharing your love, life experiences and wisdom with me."