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