Solitary Oak

* My first sonnet and it is a happy one*

I walk this pristine path done with the day's duty ,

Away from the city and its dark jokes.

After the brutal ballad, the winner is true beauty,

And there’s just me and these glorious oaks.

One with myself I am, not alone with everybody,

I am not the party’s intoxicated sobs.

I sing songs of this beautiful natural electricity,

And in that fantasy of accepted reality my head nods.

And the oaks look down on me ever so quietly,

My best friends, guarding me from all foes.

The battle scars seem to fade into the thundering electricity,

Away from those maddening, dissonant throes

And my foolish heart hopes in all naivety,

Maybe the slipping of the summer finally stops.

A blossomed flower cannot unblossom,

Attack it, hurt it, try to burn it, but it will stay.

This is a truth, and the truth you must fathom,

The oaks will unlike faces always pay.

And alas, just one final wish from this form,

When my path is done, under the oaks let me lay.

And be again a sapling to blossom,

Towering, sheltering without any dismay.

Untouched by times, let me be forever in autumn,

Untouched by earthly touch, out of the maddening fray.

One brilliant, living breathing column,

All of life served in a tray.

And when the mocking faces, like oak leaves have died and fallen,

Let them know, only solitary oaks in the summer shall stay.

* Solitary Metamorphosis into pure beauty*