Wrangled Tree

Wandering eyes now transfixed,
Upon such a wrangled mess,
Of such a twisted tormented tree,
Entwined in itself, so motionless,

With it's bark near stripped bare,
Eroded and eaten, by weather and deer,
Leaves no longer fall from this tree,
For none have grown this year,

It seems, that as time goes on,
Nature has all but forgotten such a tree,
Scarce for the Raven perched upon the branch,
Of such a twisted tormented tree,

And when the night draws on in,
And the moon comes out to cast it's light,
The Raven can no longer be found on the branch,
For the tree has become eerily white,

If only time can be reversed,
To restore the magic and life of this tree,
Where upon it's branches, homes can be made,
Is this then, the end for such a wrangled tree ?

Jennifer Don © 2010