The Trees
The trees now blowing blast wind
Their limbs held down for joy
The boughs are bending half way
as foliage comes to toy
Their bark is moistened that way
as pollen comes to land
And poise now gathered greatly
is stocks come out to gland
That hope has gathered lately;
when beauty comes to fan
When rising branches stately
improve the life of man
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2021
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