The Magnolia Tree – a poem

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It was under the Magnolia tree,

He loved me,

And our children played,

All three,

(and then four, five),

And the puppies leapt high,

Under the Magnolia tree.

We’d sit and talk for hours,

Under the Magnolia tree,

Butterflies & dreams & wishes,

And she’d listen,

Our beautiful old tree.

The seasons came & went,

And we aged,

But not she,

The children grew up & left,

But she stood strong,

Our Magnolia tree,

And even during the storm,

She was calm – our tree,

She would stand there,

As if to say,

“I’m still magnificent,

And you should still love me!”

How does she endure it all?

The seasons, the changes, the melee,

Does she miss me as much as I miss her,

My beauty, my magnolia tree?

I drove past the old house,

To see her one last time,

My old Magnolia tree,

She’s in full bloom as when,

I bought the house,

All of those years ago,

When she whispered to me.

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