For height, girth and spread
they said
there was never one like it.

Weighing a train-load with
oaken coat on
it took every seasonal gale.

but was never stirred.

Winter blasts groaning thru'
**** branches
tore down good fire-wood.

Sagely magnificent

it withstood many decades
of weather behaviour,
sheltered all feather and fur
for generations,
made lovers a hiding place

but now it's not there.

Yet I see a sapling has been
fighting for air
and some say a gone-tree's
ghostly presence
can urge spurts of growth
in its successor.

I sincerely hope this is so
for all who pass by
that one-time great oak
will have to sigh as
its memorable strength will

be mightily missed.