Left here ages ago
Imagination glides away
To a foreign land
A civil war battle field
Two lovers concealed in shade
Brave natives hunting
A million lifetimes ago

Notch in the oak tree
Has a limitless amount of possibilities
As to how it came to be.

Sharpe edge of an ax
The beaten point of an arrow head
Stabbing of a knife in anger
precise blade of a sword
mark of a bayonet that missed its target

Some thing that has been passed by with no notice
Becomes a new world a new life
to this creative mind
Close my eyes and I am transported to a demension all my own.
And the notch becomes my inpiration.