Oak Tree

There is an old oak tree,
that sits on Bowers hill.

It watches over the land,
so strong and still.

When I look at the tree,
I think of you.

A symbol of our love,
so pure and true.

When the wind blows,
and the tree sways.

It will stand,
and I will stay.

Winter will come soon,
and the tree shall grow cold.

Remember spring comes too,
and our love will bloom beautiful and bold.