Here's another oldie I dusted off.........

I'm sitting here beneath a tree
that must be thrice as old as me
and as I sit I think about
how this huge tree was once a sprout.

Through all the years that it has grown
how many fields have farmers sown ?
and since it was a mere acorn
how many generations born ?

Beneath its spreading summer shade
what lovers' promises were made
while out upon an evening's lark
and carving names in smooth beech bark?

So many times this monarch shed
its autumn coat of gold and red
to spend the winter cold and chill
while standing on this wooded hill.

And long ago on a still day
did gray clad soldiers come this way
and camp beside it on this hill?
Perhaps their ghosts remain here still.

It's seen us go from carts to cars
from telegraphs to hearing stars
observed yon valley raped and raw
by the log skidders and chainsaw.

I wonder at this trees long life
the peace it's lived through and the strife
how oft it's seen the setting sun
'twill still be here when I am done.