Now that the leaves are gone, I see,

I have four Druid watchmen 

That live in this tree in my yard.

They watch over me,

But they also watch me.

They are very hard to get by,

These soldier guards,

And they set the bar high for me,

Because if someone's going to make the cut,

His spirit will have to be fit and tough,

His mind has to be quick and witty,

His eyes must shine and a manly smile

Grace his rugged whiskery face,

Because it's easy to pale in comparison 

To the stoic beauty of the men in my oak tree,

Whose faces are made up of twisted branches,

Who look at me with intense glances

Of deepest love and desire and admiration.

I like the way they look at me.

I love the protective nature.

Their stature is grand.

They stand guard above me

And keep me content

Until my TrueLove can come and love me

With the same intent and heart

As the Spirit of the Oak Tree does.

-jenn