Emily Romrell

The Oak Tree

At my childhood church, an oak tree stands, With branches extended toward heaven. At a hundred years old at least I’d guess, What secrets it must hold in its resin.

A Solitary Soul

158

I’m a solitary soul, without love at my side, A life alone, with just myself to keep. I’ve no hand to hold, no man in whom to confide, No comfort in the night, no kiss upon my cheek.