The Departure

The clock struck four
And little Joe hurried towards the door.
Jumping down the stairs, fumbling through the alley,
Pacing tiny steps quickly to valley.

With a smile broader than ever,
his eyes gleaming of boundless pleasure.
The tiring walk not fruitless either,
As his friend was awaiting his arrival.

Standing tall in the field green,
The great old oak, there it'd been.
Stretching its arms wide with Grace
Welcoming Joe with a warm embrace.

Their friendship had long been sown,
Each considered the other, none but its own.
The sparrows praised their love,
Singing tales of friendship above.

Days passed, their friendship grew.
Alas! The end was soon which no one knew.
His eyes flushed with tears
A pain so grievous for the child to bear!

The oak wasn't there.
Leaving the field charred and bare.
What remained behind were the lifeless roots.
Gathering tears, washing away the sorrowful soot.

The Departure - it was unforeseen.
Truly, life had been harsh and mean!
The sparrows' silence, to the child's agony did concede.

Below the poor boy relishing 'memories', collecting scattered seeds.

Years passed, covering the field in solid concrete,
Concealing the remembrance of their sublime meet.
Yet Joe remembers it all
His eyes still gleam,
But the smile....
Not there indeed!