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The Poem
The woodman with his axe struck at the trunk
Of a tree which had stood for many a year;
The blade of the axe was buried into the bark
And pulled out again, just missing a lark,
Small wood pieces were being shot about
At such a speed that one had to look out
For wild pieces that came at you;
The axe was speedily cutting into the tree
Chopping parts out easily;
The woodman had now got half way through,
Meaning that now there is little to do.
The tree was by now leaning over.
Twelve more swings it took the man
Before the tree fell - crash - bang!
Credits and Copyright
Copyright 1964 Richard Pierson.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental
This poem cannot be reproduced in part or whole without express written permission from the author's Estate.
About the Author
Richard Pierson born 1949, died November 2002.
He loved to tinker with words in his spare time, and always wanted his writings to bring a smile.
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