Image via Wikipedia

Majestic in your unspoken elegance,
reflecting the change of season.
Without vanity or pompousness,
you retain your natural beauty.
Ignorant of fashion, you change,
with the procession of days.
You have been my private calender,
you spoke to me of elder forests,
where antique trees had murmuring voices.
Threatened by noise and smog and city,
you stood proudly, bearing the burdens,
of life without complaint.
In spring you fairly sang with joy of growing,
of new shoots and leaves.
In the scorching parched summer,
you gently offered cool shade and comfort,
in your cool canopy.
At night  one could  see the life in your aura,
glowing white, such strong life force,
to awe the earth with your splendor.
Come autumn, you were thousand,
million colored, golden ocher auburn brown,
you sang of age and wisdom.
The stark loneliness of the frozen winter,
brought on contemplative serenity,
though threatened to be torn asunder
by lightning, you still lived in all your glory.

other articles of mine:

Spare a Smile
The Poet Lives
My Blog-Mystical Poetry, Prose, and Political Viewpoints