Standing tall, strong, immovable

    Photo by wili hybrid on Flickr, licensed under the Creative Commons.

    Standing tall, strong, immovable
    a sentry outside my window
    a guardian, sentinel, marquis
    a trustee over my good fortune.
    What history have you seen?
    Fifty years old, and fifty more
    to grow, and witness, and perceive
    what we cannot. What mysteries
    are cast or hidden in yon shadows?
    What key do I need to free the truth
    from your many limbs, your innumerable
    branches, your vibrantly green leaves?
    You stand carefree on the precipice of time,
    coyly protecting your treasures and truth
    from prying eyes and destructive hands.
    Your ivy on the ground is an extension of your being
    reigning over the countryside like infantry
    ghostly soldiers of the leafy variety
    overwhelming my psyche and my spirit
    with your sagely, blithe countenance.
    Botany has always been my passion, my creed.


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