My gnarled and twisted features
Mark the seasons of the year,
When my branches shoot and bud
Then you know that spring is near.
And as the weather grows warmer
So, my leaves unfurl and shine
With the glossy, deep green beauty
Of this foliage of mine.
My ‘fruit’ grows in tiny, perfect cups,
Each one neat and compact
The summer sun brings out their brownish hues
My harvest is intact.
Autumn winds will bend my bows
My load is hard to bear,
But soon it will provide a feast
Of nature’s glorious fare.
As leaves and acorns fall to the ground
The harsh winter approaches fast
And I’ll stand quite naked, arms outstretched
Until another cold season has passed.
