My olive tree is enemic!
What can it produce with no limbs?
A stump really, sticking up from the earth so forlorn.
Once covered in branches, so proud a tree.

One by one the shears have snipped.
First smallish limbs, twigs really.
Cast off without real notice, not costly, tokens.

Ahh but the shears traded for a saw;
And my tree became my sacrificial friend.
One by one the saw sliced, until all has been offered; held forth in trembling expectancy.

It is a sad tree now, retaining little of it's restorative nature that once was it's essence.
There it clings to the earth
A post really, and who ever heard of offering up an olive post?