March 20, 2016

Solitary Man


Lone scrub oak, among the stones
No trees for miles, but here you grow

Among the rolling, broken hills
Land untamed, devoid of frills

There's grass around, and flowers, too
Deep green and gold against the blue

Rocks hewn, not by a mortal man
But by Creator's omnipotent hand

Grey clouds conceal the ev'ning sun
Its daily course, the light has run 

As hours flee you're left to stand
Lone oak, the solitary man



This isn't the tree I was thinking of, but close enough.

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I love Jesus, my wife, and my kids. Writing and teaching are two things I have a passion for. Gardening and fishing are cool, too. I blog @ willdole.com, you can reach me @ contact@willdole.com