Poetry Pleases: The Trees
In this poem Philip Sibley sees trees in a different light - no longer tests of youthful sinews, but fellow travellers into old age.
I see them differently now
With days of youth gone by.
No longer tests of sinews,
But fellow travellers.
Age becomes them well,
Better than it serves me.
Long gone the days when
I awoke to sound of doves
Purring in the boughs above.
When I knew pleasure,
Listening to my friends
Whose languages I knew.
That it could all be thus,
This growing old.
Ageing, yet more able,
Growing stronger, fairer,
More pleasing to the eyes,
Not shrinking into this senility.
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