#theoldoaktree

[abroadwithacamera]

#abroadwithacamera While on our #roadtrip we made a quick stop to see #theoldoaktree that still stands in the spot where my grandparents home used to be a lifetime ago.

[creatingthecreative]

The Old Oak Tree

The old oak tree was her favourite spot

To learn, laugh and play,

She was content with her lot

All she needed was her tree, her wordless best friend

Secrets and worries, she confided and told

Because it listened and soothed, and would never scold

                                   The old oak tree was her favourite spot.

 One blue, sunshine day, while the birds soared high

She decided to climb, she wanted to reach the sky

So with grandmother's scarf, she put one foot on the bark

Until a snap of the branch, foot fell through and scarf strangled

Choking, clawing, tears streaming, breath dying,

Grandmother's perfume trailing her last memory

                                   One blue, sunshine day, while the birds soared high.

 Pearls in her ears, draped in a silk scarf, with the scent of Chanel,

She watched grandma adorn herself, like a gorgeous movie star

"You always look so pretty" - Grandma smiled but with sorrow

The blue ocean of her eyes, carrying secrets deep, her eyes narrowed

Remembering lost love, her youth, death and passion.

Her eyes watered; the blue waves inside came crashing

                    Pearls in her ears, draped in a silk scarf, with the scent of Chanel.

 Mother dearest comes out calling, calling her loved one inside

"It's time for tea, darling" - until she saw the body, and from within, died

Swinging pale corpse, lifeless angel, cold and dressed in white

Left this earth too early; God, why? The noose tied too tight

Mother too shocked to speak, mouth is open but no sounds made

Instead she faints, while her little baby's body sways

                        Mother dearest comes out calling, calling her loved one inside.

 Saccharine sympathies with a sorry web of lies,

She looks down at her dear darling for the last time

Lay down naked on a cold slab of metal,

She kisses goodbye, tears stinging her face like nettles

She leaves the morgue alone, wind howling with her cries

While the ghosts of her deceased look on with sorrow in their eyes

                                               Saccharine sympathies with a sorry web of lies.

 The spirits of the dead gather 'round the old oak tree

The three women reunited once again as a family

After mother escaped through the throes of death

Swallowing vodka and pills 'til her dying breath

The tree is their purgatory, as they haunt and fore-warn,

Rosy-cheeked children who dare to climb, lest their mothers mourn

                                     The spirits of the dead gather 'round the old oak tree.

[morrica]

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#roomwithaview #happywindsday #theoldoaktree #mydayjob #room21 (på/i Folkhögskolan Hvilan)