I thought of this poem, when i saw two dustbin bags either side of a tree, or was it the front or the back I'll let you decide.
SYCAMORE TREE
There were two dustbin bags,
Down our street floating free.
One seemingly hiding behind,
The other was round at the front.
Waiting for his friend;
At the sycamore tree.
Then the perspective of it hit me,
Like a wave from the sea.
Is not as though I'm ranting,
It matters where you are standing.
To whether it's the front or the back,
The sides started laughing at me.
After all it doesn't matter,
Which is the front or the back.
It's only a sycamore tree:
So I asked my god which way it would be,
That's easy he said the front is the front
The back is the back the sides follow that
At the end of the day it's only a tree
Surely god with thoughts if you can stand
Does the front face The land
The back face the sea as you made a man
God I demand you find an answer for me
God found the answer to his problem you see
The clouds opened up downwards
A light on the man from heaven it shone
With a wave of his hand mankind was gone
After all thought God a tree is a tree
Which way that it stands doesn't
Matter to me. After all
It was only a sycamore tree.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley

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Written on 2022-05-10 at 01:33




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