THE TREE & THE CHAIR

I stood beside the sea for years,

Through storms and sun and salty tears.

The wind would whistle through my hair,

Yet no one gave a fig or care.

I stretched my branches broad and fair,

Providing shade for all down there.

For dogs to pee, and those who'd stop,

To eat their chips and drink their pop.

Then one fine day, without a plea,

A plastic chair appeared on me.

No "May I stay?" No "If you please?"

It simply settled in my leaves.

Now people point and stare and see

That blooming chair, but not the tree!

They snap their photos, laugh and grin,

As though the chair's some famous thing.

"I wonder how it got up there?"

They never praise my leafy flair.

I've grown these limbs through drought and squall,

Yet Chair gets fame, that's the gall.

The gulls all gathered, quite prepared,

To hear the wisdom Chair declared.

But honestly, between us two,

It really hasn't got a high IQ.

When winter winds begin to blow,

And send that chair down to the sea,

We'll see who's famous then, my friend,

The chair, or splendid, noble... ME!

Sally Somerton.

Sally Somerton - Island Writer