I gazed upon the acorn tree in the meadow.
It's huge trunk displays time.
Long branches sway and cast a shadow
On grassy floor that looks stained with wine.

A woman there lay underneath it.
Her long brown hairs blow all the while.
Face so bright, as if Gods hands had lit
the beautiful cheeks that held no smile.

In one hand she held a note,
In the other, a blood stained knife.
On this paper, I know she wrote,
"I will love thee, all my life."

And this girl there with blood stained hair
I knew all the while twas me.
The years, they fly and still I stand by
The trunk of the great acorn tree.