That Olde Chestnut

That Olde Chestnut

I am a chestnut tree 
Hard to crack!
“That olde chestnut.”
The hurricane
barks!

My leaves are green 
With enormous veins:
Lizards' claws;
Grip tight
their victims.

Upon my bough
A patchwork nest:
Nestled in the centre;

A golden ratio

Bustling with baby sparrows
Mama sparrow is picking
The warms
Loitering in 
the undergrowth.

I am a chestnut tree
In the autumn;
My fruit are brown;
Harvested.
And burst open.

I am a chestnut tree
Who swing and sway!
My roots are steely 
And my fallen leaves are hay.

I am a chestnut tree;
A reliable witness to many 
Centuries old stories!
Danny old boy carved a 
Bleeding heart
On my bark.
His bestowed 
Is called Mary
She is fair and ninety!

I am a chestnut tree
In a London park.
I stand tall and mighty
And am proud!
My heart is a sapling;
Bearing young loves!

Yasemin Balandi