Her branches dip low to the ground
Bulbous cherries hanging by their stems
Your golden ringlets frame your sun-kissed face
As you stroll along, steps slow like a nun
Shakespeare’s works fly out of your hands
And land, face down, on my outstretched palms
The tree’s bark tickles my back as I hand them back
And your laugh was the creation of some life somewhere
The golden cross bounces back on your sternum
And I know that the Messiah has already claimed you
And when you gaze back at me, your blue eyes wondrous
I know that you felt it too
But by the word of God your eyes cannot stray
By the word of God your lips can only pray
By the word of God roses can’t bloom together
By the word of God we are both sinners
And while it’s true that blood is thicker than water
This tree will smolder any flames in hell.