Morgan Feldman shares a poem commemmorating Tolkien’s favoured tree, recently felled from its place in the Botanic Gardens.
Through Oxford over stream and brook, under spire and stone
Blows a wind of somber thought for a pine long known.
Twisted boughs and emerald crown long stood proud and tall
Through many storms and winter frosts until they came to fall.
A trunk not white and regal, nor leaves of silver and gold,
Beneath its sturdy branches, many a story were told.
A dismal day has come at last to fell this mighty tree
whose branches spanned from middle-earth to our own history.
Yet as all woods must end at last
elven trees too must pass
from sight to memory.