Oak Tree

Sometimes it is lonely
in love with an immovable tree
but he is always there for me
his bark rough, solid and stoic  
but his boughs rustle in a soft caress
birds coo from darkest hollows
I sing along, the parts that I can follow
softness of leaves falling for me
prompts that my own song begin
such tender rhyme, and sighs of joy
of love from my own bur oaken boy