I Am The Oak Tree.

I am the barren tree,
All the leaves have fallen - vacated,
I stand tall yet lonely,
I feel bare, completely naked,

Hundreds of years old I am,
The wise old lonely oak,
I have many scars and snags,
From branches that have cracked and broke,

Tis the season of winter,
That is my loneliest season,
The leaves that have left,
Unearth my scars and legions,

Just before the spring,
I start to grow buds of green,
That come spring open and give birth,
To the most beautiful green leaves you've seen,

They cover my branches,
Only my trunk is left exposed,
Lovely shades of green hues,
This is the season my form is composed,

Summer breezes tickle through the leaves,
Creating a sound of summers breath,
My bark is loose in places,
My wrinkles my ages of distress,

Autumn comes round too soon,
The leaves start changing colour,
Some brown some yellow some even red,
My form becomes multicoloured,

The winds pick up and shake,
My body down to the core,
Leaves start falling like feathers,
Down to the muddy floor,

My form starts to look patchy,
I still have some leaves in tact,
By the dawn of winters day,
I'm left bare and leaves are lacked,

I am the old oak tree,
I am a home for birds,
I am a vision of nature,
One day I may be chopped used for timber,

Please remember to be kind,
To mother natures creatures,
The earth and all that's in it,
Else I will become nothing but paper or a fancy wooden feature.