I love my three beautiful, stately oak trees,

Unusual for a garden home lot;

I love that their branches reach over the street,

Providing a lovely cool spot.

I live on a corner where people pass by,

Some, even slow cars down to look

And I, from my window, have watched a few

As they stop and pictures they took.

However, as much as I do love my trees

They have one unfortunate trait;

They let loose barrages of well-aimed acorns,

And each year their numbers inflate.

My driveway is covered, though often it’s blown,

They say, “Ha! We have thousands more!”

And then they take aim at my crystal clear pool

And let loose their acorns, galore.

And if there’s a big wind that blows in at night,

They hit my roof, sounding like hail;

Not an occasional spurt of a few,

These trees send them down, wholesale.

I haven’t kept track, through the years of the time

This “hostile” attack on me lasts,

But I must admit, that there’s one fun upside:

The neighborhood squirrels have a blast!