The Tree

by Linda Watkins

Come gather around and sit under the tree
It knows the riches of your history
Its' heard the stories you have been told
Saw most of the tears fall from the old
The hangings took place on its' mighty limbs
The buckboards rolled over its' roots with its' rims
Marks on its'trunk from the whips that were used
Soaked up the blood from the victims abused
Its' leaves heard the cries of the frightened and scared
They remained soft and supple as its' body it shared
Not always wanting to lend such a hand
It still stood solid and guarded the land
And there were good things that happened by thee
It hid a plenty who sought to be free
It heard the speeches of brave men who talked
And sheltered the weary from the miles that they walked
It saw the lovers who were not as one
Helped them in making a daughter, a son
It smelled the food the couples had eaten
Happy that they weren't the ones who were beaten
It saw the children play hide and seek
It saw them grow strong from the small and the weak
It heard the dreams and the plans being made
Watched as the fear slowly started to fade
It also remembers the courage and hope
Of seeing a people trying to cope
It winessed the downfall of slavery you see
It knows the price that was paid to be free!

The Tree by Linda Watkins

© Copyright 1994. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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