I want to cut down those trees
in my back yard...
It's a leap, I know
and it might be hard,
but a change has got to come

You see the branches are touching
all the wires that crossed
and I can't seem to find
the things that I've lost,
but a change has got to come

The apple tree was a Father's Day gift
(and Dad's been gone so long)
from a brother-in-law with a shovel
and a marriage gone all wrong,
but a change has got to come

Mother loved the blossoms in spring
but the sap turns my fences black
and it's gotten so far away from me
that I can't seem to find my way back,
but a change has got to come

I'm going to chop down those trees
and if the wind asks why...
It's a stretch, I'll say
but I have to try
and a change has got to come

Sometimes, the wind says, a change just for the sake of change is no change at all...and the trees agree.

Mary, one thing I've learned to appreciate from traveling by car around this country is that the care one takes in landscaping and horticulture always shows.

I like the underlying theme of not caring about the trees, with the loss of loved ones, too. Nicely done.


Les

Thanks to each of you, Peter and Les, for your thoughtful comments. I had written an in depth response, but promptly lost it when trying to post. It must have been a sign to keep it more simple.

Peter, the necessity of the change is as weighty as the notion of destroying living, breathing trees. If I could find them a more suitable home, I would.

Les, I think you get this one. Thanks.

Mary

(on a side note: I am wondering about the reason that Abe chopped down the tree that he later could not lie about and that supposedly dubbed him "Honest Abe". Anybody know "the rest of the story"?)

I guess it was George, not Abe.

Cherry Tree, The
by: M.L.Weems, Good Stories for Great Holidays

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When George Washington was about six years old, he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet of which, like most little boys, he was extremely fond. He went about chopping everything that came his way.
One day, as he wandered about the garden amusing himself by hacking his mother's pea- sticks, he found a beautiful, young English cherry tree, of which his father was most proud. He tried the edge of his hatchet on the trunk of the tree and barked it so that it died.
Some time after this, his father discovered what had happened to his favorite tree. He came into the house in great anger, and demanded to know who the mischievous person was who had cut away the bark. Nobody could tell him anything about it.
Just then George, with his little hatchet, came into the room.
"George," said his father, "do you know who has killed my beautiful little cherry tree yonder in the garden? I would not have taken five guineas for it!"
This was a hard question to answer, and for a moment George was staggered by it, but quickly recovering himself he cried: --
"I cannot tell a lie, father, you know I cannot tell a lie! I did cut it with my little hatchet."
The anger died out of his father's face, and taking the boy tenderly in his arms, he said: --
"My son, that you should not be afraid to tell the truth is more to me than a thousand trees! yes, though they were blossomed with silver and had leaves of the purest gold!"




Why Lincoln Was Called 'Honest Abe'
by: Noah Brooks, Good Stories for Great Holidays

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In managing the country store, as in everything that he undertook for others, Lincoln did his very best. He was honest, civil, ready to do anything that should encourage customers to come to the place, full of pleasantries, patient, and alert.
On one occasion, finding late at night, when he counted over his cash, that he had taken a few cents from a customer more than was due, he closed the store, and walked a long distance to make good the deficiency.
At another time, discovering on the scales in the morning a weight with which he had weighed out a package of tea for a woman the night before, he saw that he had given her too little for her money. He weighed out what was due, and carried it to her, much to the surprise of the woman, who had not known that she was short in the amount of her purchase.
Innumerable incidents of this sort are related of Lincoln, and we should not have space to tell of the alertness with which he sprang to protect defenseless women from insult, or feeble children from tyranny; for in the rude community in which he lived, the rights of the defenseless were not always respected as they should have been. There were bullies then, as now.

I like it.

The refrain keeps it well balanced, some of the rhymes could be improved, S4 lines 3 and 4 seem a little problematic (not running as smoothly as possible), but all in all a good poem.

Well done, Marty.

Love,
V.

Hi Veronika....long time no see. Thanks for commenting on one of my attempts to come back myself from a drought. Hope all is well with you.

Mary