Two Trees

Two trees in moorland dreary stand,

Amid a grey and forlorn land,

Gorse and heather long since gone, 

As is sparrow’s sweet birdsong.


Years have passed since saplings young

Bent ‘mid storms that threatened long

To fell them swiftly, ‘neath the winds

And torrents great that battered them.


But close the trees had planted been,

(By chance, or Fate, or Providence),

And when the rains and tempests raged,

The branches intertwined did stay


And strengthened both the saplings; now,

Though years have passed, and winds have howled,

Together stand the trunks, as one,

Twisted, strengthened, by the storm.

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