Birth of An Oak Tree

BIRTH OF AN OAK TREE All my siblings have left mother tree. I am the last acorn to stick still at stalk on big bough as the last most precious stock covered by bunch of leaves feeling free Being hidden I escape eyes of birds. Flying insects also cannot disturb me I hope to fall when tree will discard me at proper time naturally. I will sprout on Nature’s tender care Seedling turning in sapling with slender arms on caress of soil-water-air. I will spread green canopy with leafy charms. To yield Oak tree, me the last acorn. The dense thick foliage will shine verdant. I am thankful grateful, being born. The proud inheritor: Joyous descendant. 04/27/20 First Place ' A Brian Strand You Choose ' Contest by Brian Strand