The Horse Chestnut Tree

Listen to: The Horse Chestnut Tree

Oh, horse chestnut tree, friend of my tender years,
By autumn's sunlight how sublime you seem.
Unspoiled by time or bleeding canker’s lesions,
You stand in perfect mellow beauty poised,
Amid this season’s early falling leaves.

Do you remember me—the guiltless child,
Who played each endless-seeming summer's day,
Beneath your broad, full-leafed and rounded crown,
Awaiting autumn's amber-turning leaves,
To gather your gift to life—your spiny husks?

In waking, stirring breezes, I tossed sticks
At your low boughs that bent toward the earth,
To cause your pricking, bright green fruit to fall
For birds and creatures small to feed, and me 
To peel, and hoard the shining seeds within.

Now, as I stand beneath your boughs, once more
Among your rustling leaves, I hear your voice:

I remember your lonely childhood games;
I’d smile at each affronted pigeon’s call,
And the wise, plump brown tawny owl stayed hid;
I welcomed you and your gambolling dog,
And gladly gave my seeds for you to play.


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