Trees in the breeze
The trees in the breeze they look so free,
colours of dark and light green
they fill me with glee.
Their branches reach out towards the stars,
their leaves lick up the morning sun;
I love to sit under when my day is done.
The roots dig deeper, holding them strong,
the tree trunk moves to a magical song.
The bark is rough like an old cat’s tongue.
They chop them down, it’s all wrong.
That tree has been standing for one hundred years,
in time to come we’ll shed our tears.
So leave the trees that blow in the breeze and let them nourish the earth.
Our history lives within the trunk
and our future will not be sunk.
So next time you pass a tree
give it a hug if you please.
Just let it…
View original post 12 more words