A Tree-logy - A trilogy of poems

PART 1 - The Squirrel

Atop a tall and mighty oak
A little squirrel lies
Amongst the green and tender leaves
It looks out at the sky

But short the rest the squirrel takes
For food is on its mind
Soon scurrying along the branch
Some nuts it longs to find

The mighty oak has come to fruit
And acorns fill its twigs
The squirrel leaps from branch to branch
It does a nutty jig!

The oak it is a mighty store
A pantry in the woods
The squirrel has no need to leave
The oak provides the food

And deep within the ancient trunk
The squirrel has its drey
And after eating acorns up
It goes back there to lay

But slumber is soon hard to get
The tree is starts to shake
There's rustling now in all the leaves
The earth below it quakes

The squirrel sticks it head outside
It's eyes dart up and down
It sees below beside the tree
A hobbit on the ground

The hobbit works upon the oak
And he then gives a call
The squirrel leaps from out its hole
The oak begins to fall

A mighty bound, the squirrel leaps
And lands upon an ash
It turns and see despairingly
The oak tumbles with a crash

And so the squirrel has lost its home
A woodland store is gone
It jumps around from tree to tree
To seek out a new home


PART 2 - The Woodcutter

The early morning cockerel crows
The sun it rises from below
A hobbit rises very slowly
And grabs his trusty axe

His breakfast is some eggs and chops
He wolfs it down, no time to stop
For now he has some trees to chop
With many mighty whacks

He meets up with some feller friends
With saws in hands they number ten
It's time to cut some trees again
They walk into the wood

And first he finds a sycamore
He fells it with his axe once more
Then two of them then work a saw
The planks they make are good

He piles the planks upon a stack
And smaller logs into a sack
Then in the woods he wanders back
Whilst whistling a song

He comes upon a noble tree
An oak of some fine majesty
And crafters have it much in need
The wood is fine and strong

He grips his axe, deep breathes he takes
With strudy strokes, deep cut he makes
The oak it sways and starts to break
And "Timber!" is the call

The oak it comes a-tumbling down
A thundering crash upon the ground
A cloud of dirt is scattered round
The oak lies prone and still

And so the cutter's day is done
He glances at the setting sun
And bids farewell to everyone
To Overhill he roams

And up above atop a tree
Right next to where the oak should be
A squirrel sits quite nervously
And watches him go home.....


PART 3 - The Tree

Deep in the woods there stood a noble tree
An Oak of countless age and majesty
Within a glade of ash and beech and elm
The Oak stood tall, surveying all its realm

Now, many years ago a seed was sown
An acorn once, from this the tree had grown
Through seasons hot and cold the Oak tree grew
In width, in height, its branches filled the view

It's bark was like a solid rugged hide
It's limbs they seem to reach out to the sky
The leaves would rustle when the wind did blow
Its roots were spreading in the earth below

And so it stood the largest of them all
A gnarly master of its woodland hall
Providing shade to creatures on the ground
A source of food to woodland life around

And in the wood the tree was not alone
For other things did make the Oak its home
Within the trunk a squirrel made its drey
Whilst foraging the acorns everyday

But peace was not forever in this land
One day a cutter came with axe in hand
With rapid swings he cut into the trunk
He cut life from the Oak in many chunks

So helplessly this regal Oak it fell
With leaves and acorns scattered in the dell
Above, a leaping squirrel just escaped
Much harder times ahead would lie in wait

For wintertime was soon to reach the Shire
The cutter used his logs to warm the fire
The squirrel found itself a warm new hole
So both in time could live throughout the cold

The squirrel foraged acorns on the ground
But one small acorn it was never found
Evading all the frantic squirrel's claws
It took to root and become an Oak once more

And so in time another Oak tree grew
The squirrel's young would come to live there too
And hobbit cutters still they cut the trees
The wood remains and ever shall it be