WINTER 2003

The Old Black Oak

Lester Heritage
Mickleton MM

It all started with a tiny acorn,
A squirrel buried it in the ground,
He thought, “This will taste good next winter,
That is, if it can be found.”

He tried to find it that winter.
However, it was not meant to be.
It lay in the ground until springtime,
And then it grew into a tree.

Well, this little tree just grew and grew,
Its plan to grow big was no joke.
Someone asked, “What kind of tree is this, anyway?”
It was identified as a black oak.

The tree grew and flourished for many years,
But, alas, there came that fateful day.
It started to do what most old trees do;
At last it had begun to decay.

We knew because of this tragedy,
It would soon have to be taken away.
As it belonged to Mickleton Friends Meeting,
When this would be done, they would say.

Then the question was immediately brought up:
What shall we do with the wood?
Some said, “Let’s grind it up and get rid of it.”
Some said, “I don’t think that we should.

“Out of it lets make objects, something to remember it by,
Like tables, birdhouses and things.
There seems to much that can be made out of wood,
Maybe some jewelry, like rings.”

They say that great oaks from little acorns grow,
And we know the saying is true,
From the tiny acorn it started out from,
Our venerable old oak tree sure grew.

The old tree has finally been taken down.
Its wood is piled up in a heap.
One wonders what eventually will be made from it—
Hopefully some mementos to keep.

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Copyright © 2003, Lester Heritage
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Last modified: Thursday, March 11, 2004 at 09:43 PM