Psonnets of Romance
The Markings

Come look upon the markings I have cut,
confessing lasting love, into this tree,
beneath which I have held you close to me.
Its leaf will pass, its flower, and its nut,
yet markings read for ages. Nothing but
the heartwood pressing outward may decree
the markings of our love, which all may see,
be ringed, a wooden door on our love shut.
Please pity these few markings, you who read.
Cut not asunder where the songbird sings,
but listen to the love that has been keyed
in bark of bough abiding youthful things,
our children like this living forest's seed,
the rings of this tree like our wedding rings.
~ by Michael Rew / Email: witness@psonnets.org