The Tree Stood Tall & Still

The tree stood tall and still, just like a cat on a window sill. It did not walk or move about, it just sometimes creaked aloud. It's branches were long, and very strong, sometimes it smelt, but not in a way that's wrong! It smelt of sap and resin, and brought back memories of long ago. Transported me back, somehow through an eco. It's beauty abounds in summer sun, or winter snow. I do not understand why some long to see them go. The are the answer to many of our woes, however they seem not to know. It helps us breath, and gives shelter from the sun, and provides food for some, when there is none. It brightens up the darkest woodland, it's fruit falls upon the land. Creatures reside in the darkest of bark, in it's leaves, branches, needles or cones. Lovers do meet, and strangers do greet, all beneath this fountain of life. The seasons come, and then they leave, but the tree stands a witness, of the hands that made, and formed it before. Twas a thing of passion, not a chore. The tree is safe for now, it stands in the land my own. But when I'm gone, it could be thrown, for now thought it is safe, it is home. Little hands and bodies do sit, as if upon a mighty throne. Campfires do