Planning Permission

Who are you?
Proud old oak,
To get in the way
Of our housing estate.
Make no mistake,
We’ll tear you down,
Snap your limbs
Squeeze you till the paper thins.
Count your rings
Three-hundred years,
Taken, as the axe

Falls.

5 thoughts on “Planning Permission

  1. Aaaaarghh! 😊 The pause before the final word really heightened the drama. I think this one might be my favourite of yours so far… It’s got the whole package: a witty title which adds meaning; short, terse lines with a painfully tense rhythm; and startingly good imagery! I especially liked the idea of “counting tree rings” and the way you mentioned the tree’s enormous age before it was felled. It made that final blow even harder!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Say WHAT?!!! I’ve been nominated for a ‘One Lovely Blog’ Award! | Gulab Jamman Writes ♥

  3. marshillmythos

    I have a two to three hundred year old tree in my backyard. It makes me sad to see so few big old trees. What will happen when they all fall down? Thanks for your poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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