My Crying Tree. By CpSingleton © 2014
What’s ap dearest friend, that
Tears spring from thee?
Down thy rugged bark:
A sticky river running free.
What evil made thy sorrow,
Where once thee stood so strong.
Thy limbs reach’ed for the sun!
The wind through them a song.
Now, it seems they’re taken.
Nowhere mine eyes can see.
All they perceive now, my friend,
Are your tears, my crying tree.
I hope for thy recovery,
That thee may cry no more.
I pray a payback day occurs
From the court of nature’s law.