I just awakened from a dream, so real, I am not sure-
It really wasn’t a dream a’tall, but I will call it so.
Where e’er I looked familiarity was there.
A dream? It’s all so real, yet, there is the snow.
It was not there in the times and place, I am looking for.
Animal spoor every where, proves snows existence.
Then I wonder, it must be true, but, why am I here?
And what am I really looking for, it makes no sense.
As I look around in this wooded glen of Birch and Ash
The beauty of it all has me suspended in a world I know.
Trees, sparkling like ice seem to illuminate the glen
And I see I see a special Birch it’s all aglow.
But then reality tells me it is not so, tho the place is right.
Time took over. It happened many years ago, you see.
In this very glen we walked hand in hand in dreamland;
Love prompted me to cut our initials into a special tree.
Some how I’m sure, that tree still grows, it cannot die.
It is there, a glow, a tribute to our love for all to see.
Perhaps one day a child will spy a tree that never died
And ask, can I cut mine now, to leave in memory
Of a love not lost, forever true.
Copyright © 2011 Charles E. Frost
January 5, 2011