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Poetry : Under The Oak Tree

I have been writing poems and short stories for years, some of which I have published independantly. I also blog. Writing is a loved hobby.

Time is very slow for those who wait. Very fast for those who are scared. Very long for those who lament. Very short for those who celebrate. But for those who love, time is eternal.

— William Shakespeare

Young Love, Old Love, Eternal Love

I read once on someone who expressed mild disgust at seeing an old couple holding hands. She wrote, "Ew, no one wants to see old people being all lovey-dovey! That's for young people only!"

It rather gratified me to read that several people immediately commented, among others, "Seriously? What is your problem? Old people are young people once, they knew love before you did. They invented love while you were still nothing. Have some respect. Let them alone."

Someone else wrote, "I would rather see an old couple holding hands than a young couple doing it. At least I know that the old couple means it. Young people tend to do it for show, especially in public when they know people are watching."

Personally, I think that the old couple has proven true through the test of time. Through all things, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, till death do they part, they have remained true to each other.

I wrote this poem many years ago, inspired by such love, including my parents'. This has remained one of my favorite poems to write and to have. I am proud of it.

poetry-under-the-oak-tree

Poem : Under The Oak Tree

The moon bright and the roses bloom,
Lighting the night from the gloom;
Under the oak tree I stand waiting
For my True Love for he’s coming;
He promised me he’ll always be so true,
And we’ll be one our whole life through;
Now he’s come and with a gallant bow,
He says the words that would be our vow :
“My Love, my Joy, my own True Heart,
Until our death we will never part;
We will be one, we’ll love each other,
And we will be together forever and ever.”

Now I stand under the oak tree again,
On the very spot where my Love is lain;
And where we’d pledged our very first vow,
That we’ll be together until now;
My mind drifts back to that night,
When the night was filled with the light;
When I stood waiting for my Love,
And we vowed each other we would serve;
Now he’s the one who lays waiting
For his own True Love who is coming;
And we’ll say our vow all over again,
As side by side we will be lain.

poetry-under-the-oak-tree

Romance And The Mature

© 2019 Lynne Samuel

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