The White Oak Tree

Past the tree lines,

Deep in the forest.

Where all streams trickle to an end

Casting its shadow upon the ancient woods, 

The old white oak tree holds her secrets close

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

Watching her teardrop memories float down

And lay on the old, shrivelled ground

Behold the skeletons of the past.

Thoughts echo from her heart

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

The storm rolls in, 

A tiny shimmer of light holds

The sky darkens 

In no time at all, thunder strikes!

She allows her leaves to fall

But her secrets hold on for dear life 

All secrets are safe

Within the big old white oak tree

Whisper, whisper, whisper.