When I was just a baby girl,

My daddy bought for me,

A seedling that would grow and grow

into my own oak tree;

He planted it in our front yard,

some ways beyond the road,

He said the tree would need some space,

Room for the roots to grow;

My oak tree grew two feet a year,

and by the time that I was five,

My tree had grown by leaps and bounds,

and stood straight ten feet high;

By the time that I was fully grown,

My tree had grown far more,

it towered high above the house,

Easily two score.

Beneath those branches I had played

On an old tire swing,

It was my castle and my throne

for games that childhood brings;

I gathered acorns to play house

with oak leaves and mud pies,

Until I grew too old for games,

too grown up and too wise.

On day I married underneath

those  branches festooned gaily,

I left my old oak tree behind

but thought about it daily.

One day my father called to say,

My old oak tree had died,

Workers came and cut it down,

I saw right down and cried.

I went to see my mom and dad

with my children just to see,

there was just this big round stump,

where my oak tree used to be.

As I sat with both my folks

in the kitchen, sipping tea,

From the front yard we heard shouts

Raised in childish cries of glee;

And I looked out of mom’s front door,

to see my tots at play,

Jumping from the old tree stump,

At what game I could not say;

but it brought them childish pleasure,

and I watched with tear-filled eyes,

My mother hugged me and she whispered

Your oak tree never dies”

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