The Chestnut Tree

My entry for the Love competition. The Chestnut Tree that allows the young couples to seek respite from the scorching sunlight and judgement itself, towers above all, and silently ponders the boundless, amorphous love that those who hide in its shade harbour. Was it simply for escaping sunlight in a harsh Summer, or to seek rurality and isolation from the commercial, teasing aspects of humanity itself?


1. The Chestnut Tree

Though men tilt their chins, they do often confide

In dear ladies, though friends vex and tease their pride;

None the wiser we are, participating in chase

Watching from a-distance and quickening our pace.

Though friends and society encourage them to lie

Their palms do perspire as their love draws nigh;

Pride may lead them to boast to their friends

However silently, they suffer the symptoms love lends.


In a boned cage of ribs, flutter-bys do fritter

The nervous taste on dry lips doth grow so bitter;

These men do take sweet pleasure in ignoring

Their shameful habits in speculating and adoring-

To the growing worry of women who worriedly pat

Cosmetics and creams on their faces, and of that

Though viewed as falseness, is comfort quick

To ladies who fear rejection- layers of make-up thick.


Then Summer brings warmer memories, bitterly transient

Where love had been abundant and hatred lenient;

His cheeks had been flushed, and she had been clear

Of opinions and impressions, the lovers had no fear.

In many years, such evenings would surely differ

Alone in red sunlight and the soft and warm zephyr;

Unknowingly, this couple would deeply savour

Memories of these late sunsets with dulcet flavour. 


His bark was ebony with indentations all down

A thick bay of leaves were his photo-tropic crown;

The sway and bob of the feathered branches displayed

The thick and green foliage that created such precious shade.

Silent in its knowledge, the chestnut tree had seen

The many hundred couples that had once below him been;

Taking cover from the Sun, he had sheltered them kind

As below his swaying arms, another young love would bind.


Though commercialism reigns, their pressure soon forgotten

And aged couples lay below, putrefied and rotten;

Far away from impression, the couple dare embrace

She brings up dainty fingers, tracing the contours of his face.

Someday, the two will age, and they will sometime pass

This bark too will grow mossy, creeping from the grass;

Each young generation, two lovers will lie against the trees

Until they die, they will kiss and cry, and do so as they please.

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