Wednesday, 19 November 2008

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    Questor [The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster Book 3]
    By Alastair J Archibald
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    Poem



    Pity not the trees
    Standing, stranded it seems
    caught in soil
    tossed down by wind,
    or bird dropping.

    Roots must be deep or wide
    anything else
    invites one to die
    or fall
    and become mushroom food.

    Still, Pity not the Trees
    Rooted they are,
    they hold the world,
    all come to them
    for they have no need
    to leave.

    Their own foliage
    springs away and carry on
    indeed they send message
    and songs unheard
    by dull ears.

    Pity not the Tree
    but the stupid human who peed
    upon the truck, thinking nothing
    for while the Tree got wet
    someday that human's corpses
    Will feed its seed.

    They will see stars paths
    that we only glimpse at
    seasons changed from the world's wrath
    while we speed by blind
    thing important things
    that are not

    Tree shed their air
    so we can breath
    they need us not
    for we are more like weeds
    Pity is never for trees
    Only for those, who can not
    Be.

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