Ode to the Twenty
My fallen friends so strong and true,
Not slacking – but faithful, stalwart troops.
Perimeter guards of yonder ground,
Your passing raises grief profound.
Though quiet in your duty held,
A fragrance sweet your bodies meld.
And wind would sing through piney boughs,
A lullaby to sooth those raw.
Mighty and strong with arms outstretched,
Inviting beauties of captive-ness
You blessed us with a scenic pose,
Evergreens in tidy rows.
A few as babes seemed slightly odd,
Knobby limbs with fir-like blobs.
Little Alice-the-Goon so sweet,
A friendly welcome from one petite.
But now she and nineteen passed,
Taken in the wintry blast.
Unable to such cold endure,
All life flow ceased will flow no more.
Now the howling chain-saw blades,
Usher in silence and empty lanes.
Where once a field of twenty loomed,
An evergreen memory is entombed.
©2011 Sandra Gilloth
Two of Twenty
Insolomonsporch's Blog 
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