Specially written for #Wattpadpoetry2018 #Septemberischanging
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When first it opened its tiny leaves
and began drinking in the sun
George William Frederick was on the throne
the nineteenth century just begun.
Those early days were in pasture spent
watching poor men at their toil
seeing the brittle gold of harvest home
and the tilling of the soil.
Years sped by upon seasons wings
and the Chestnut tree waxed strong
the worst of winter's blasts it bore
awaiting the cuckoo's song.
Handsome tall and proud it stood
a landmark all men knew
his dwellings all about he built
where the grand old Chestnut grew.
Many long years of strife it saw
witnessing men march off to war
some it saw come home again
and some it saw no more.
Throughout the 1919 spring
after the war to end all wars
at last the village school was built
and opened wide its doors.
Generations skipped down the years
and through the old school gate
the Chestnut watched them all go by
the lowly and the great.
Father, son and brother too
Mothers and daughters many
laughed beneath the Chestnut tree
playing pitch and toss the penny.
Children ran and children left
taught by many a goodly teacher
blacksmiths and nurses some became
one became a preacher.
All loved the mighty Chestnut tree
its blossom candles in spring
its shade throughout the summers heat
its autumn fruits for conkering.
Lo, now the century nears its end
the school of sudden is silent
the loudness of the emptiness
is cruel, sharp and violent.
The Chestnut tree alone there stands
guarding an empty vault
and occasionally a passer-by
will take the time to halt.
To halt and ponder a little while
upon what the old tree's seen
for two hundred years or more
'tas stood by the village green.
A tale of life lies in its rings
of families hopes and fears
of coming and going and changes rung
down the centuries of years.