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The Little Oak Tree

By the West Bank of River Sound
Stood a little oak tree,
Under its boughs and leaves I found
The long lost childhood me.

There was a girl named Jennie Mae,
Soft and lustrous was her hair;
She was, bonny as an early May,
My queen, goddess and maiden fair.

This was the place of all places,
We could be careless and free
To build sand castles and festooned laces
Right by the little oak tree.

There we dreamed our fancy dreams
And realized our knight and damsel plays;
And yet how recently it seems
That it all just happened yesterdays.

Jen had grown into a woman -
A true and steadfast friend to me;
I had turned into a man,
Footloose and fancy-free.

After making myself a name,
And through thousand towns I’d gone roam;
Finding emptiness still with all that fame,
I packed my guitar and headed home.

I stopped by the River Sound
To remember my carefree ways;
Sitting under the tree I found
The dear friend of my childhood’s days.

By the West Bank of River Sound
Stood the brawny oak tree,
Under its boughs and leaves I found
The long lost, new-found me.

Then I home decided to stay
And blessed with children three;
We took them there often to play,
Right by the sprawling oak tree.

Then came one sultry winter night,
Heavens let loose a storm-deluge;
Jen joined the rank of angels’ flight,
The tree became my sole refuge.

By the West Bank of River Sound,
The tree has grown into woods;
The river has over-flown the ground
Where the sand castles now once stood.



© March 1993, Paul F.J. Chow

[ Author's note: Light Reading.  ]