Our Tree

Our Tree 

Come sit with me my sweetheart, beneath our silver tree,
And dwell awhile in peacefulness and quiet sanctity,
Just you and I alone at last, in our own special place,
A little piece of paradise, that nothing can replace.

Come tell me of your love for me, as I confess of mine,
Let the dappled shade of sunshine, break the iron grip of time,
And let your mind to linger, in this calming paradise,
Where two lovers sit together, and nothing has a price.

And there beneath the silver tree two hearts enjoy the peace,
Just stolen moments worshipped, a merciful release,
For in this world of madness, some things are not to be,
So sit with me my sweetheart, – beneath our silver tree.

Mick.

About the author

Mick Westwood
21334 Up Votes
I am a 71 year old retired coal miner, who spent 30 years working underground. Having time on my hands, and in order to keep my brain exercised, I decided to try to write poetry and put down on paper some of my life experience, and my hopes, dreams and other thoughts. I also do a little gardening, but I am hopeless at housework. Much to my wife's displeasure.

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