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2005 Arbor Day Poems
The Old Oak Tree
This is an old spreading oak.
Its beauty maybe you won’t see.
It’s been a refuge in life’s storms;
And still it stands with open arms.
No one knows its date of birth,
Just when it sprouted from the earth,
Yet since it was a little tree,
It had its share of company.
The old cypress bench smooth and worn,
Where men gathered and sat upon;
To smoke and talk and, wistfully,
Lean against the tree.
They told old tales of love and life,
As the old whittler smiled and carved with his knife.
When as a child I passed the tree
I thought, what a friendly place to be.
It will never have a lonely day,
Cause it’s been a friend in every way
I know that there will always be
Someone to love the old oak tree.
Now, whenever I go away, no matter where I roam
When I see the hanging moss and the old oak tree
I know that I have come home.
The poem was written in 1956 by Emily Altazan (Mrs. Roy) Andre’ who died in 1994.
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The Back Brusly Oak Tree
Written by Roy Hebert, 1979
There’s a king of all kings, tall and strong for all to see,
It stands at the end of the lane, called the Old Back Brusly Oak Tree.
The mighty oak so strong and firm, still stands with its branches so high
Gave protection to its children at play, many a day that has gone by,
For over three hundred years it has seen children go by.
A salute to the Back Brusly Oak, its arms keep waving high
The hole in the trunk is still there, where many a fire was made
On the cold, cold winter mornings where paper and wood was laid.
The humming of the wind, like the buzzing of a bee through
the branches and moss of the Old Back Brusly Oak Tree,
If the Old Oak Tree could talk, the stories that it could tell.
We’ll never forget the rounders that once we knew so well,
They’d sit on the roots of the oak after their work day was done.
If these branches could only speak, they’d tell of the stories,one by one.
As we pass by the roots of the king, we see and hear of the stories of all,
We see their ghosts as we pass on by, under the King that stands so tall.
They’d sit on the roots day by day, “Doo” and “Bouie” and Mr. Valrie,
They are all gone, but not the roots, of the Old Back Brusly Oak Tree.
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