The Acacia Tree Along the Road

Along the road to the village spring
There lay a huge acacia tree
Erect with pride and grandeur
With straight towering shoots
Escaping from its trunk from all sides
It gave a captivating serene
That no other tree was capable of.
With its massive leafing and shady top,
All children in the village sought refuge from
 The scorching sun to and from the village spring.
With its extensive underground rooting,
It was a home to infinite species of reptiles, rodents and insects
And with its fresh fertile soils around its base,
It was a benefactor to multiple grasses, berries and weeds,
With its scenting flowers,
It was a habitat to bees, beetles, butterflies and moths.
In the cool evenings, it was a theatre to exhibitions of talents
It was a choir of voices;

The buzzing of bees
The dronning of beetles
The barking of foxes
The yelling of Guinea fowls
The sqauwking of doves
The whistling of birds
Gave every passersby a pleasant feeling,
As the big acacia looked on with pride and satisfaction
As a happy father witnessing his son’s success.
The acacia tree wasn’t just a tree but a village pride
It wasn’t just a village pride but a rare habitat
The acacia tree was a home away from home to many.


With time,
The acacia tree was under siege,
His towering high shoots were fancied for electric poles
His strength and durability taken advantage of 
For hard wood timber exports to the city
His massive leafing and shady top encroached on 
For mulches by the farmers
His sharp erect thorns extinct with mushrooming herbalists
His parade of twigs cleared by bee keepers for hives
His huge trunking uprooted to give space for 
A modern and wider road to the spring
And his dead remains saw fit for fine charcoal.

Time reached and the acacia tree and its remains were no more.
And the way to the village spring was nolonger filled with newness, purity and fortitude,
The magic to all that had been undone