As I walked out on a midday dash
The mighty oak on the hill side stashed
Like a Spanish Galleon full of gold
This relic of a bygone age so old
As I walked out on an afternoon dash
The sun was rising in the fields of Ash
The wind caught its sails and the ship did stand
Like a spider on eight legs upright and grand
As I walked out on an evening stroll
the wind was blowing like a bell that tolls
And the Oak like a harbour for my soul
Kept me safe from the biting maul
As I walked out on a midnight dash
The Old oak was breathing as an octopus splash
Its heart was living but only skin deep
For centuries unforgiving its secrets to keep
As I walked out on a morning's stroll
Its green crown was balanced as a Yorick's skull
Held by a Hamlet from a timely stage
Speaking his lines to the wind and an age
That is lost now unless on the page
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