An Ode to the Oak Tree

The old oak stood on a snow covered hill,
He had stood through many battles, strong and still,
But yet in the summer, on a hot July day,
The shade from his branches made a cool place to stay.
Through many a winter he had battled sleet, slush and snow
But yet on warm summer evenings, his branches would stretch out in sunbeams aglow.
This day was quite different though,
The night before a battle had been fought and won,
But sadly to say, the victory by him had not been won
His knarled old branches creaked and groaned under rays from the early sun,
The night before there was a terrible storm
He had been blown upon, pelted with ice and snow,
And now he lay defeated from the final blow,
But although defeated, he still lays beautifully in the sun aglow
Shimmering like a diamond from a thin crystal coating of ice and snow.