Dear little tree that we plant today,
What will you be when we're old and grey?"
"The savings bank of the squirrel and mouse,
For robin and wren, an apartment house.
The dressing-room of the butterfly's ball,
The locust's and katydid's concert hall.
The schoolboy's ladder in pleasant June,
The schoolgirl's tent in the July noon.
And my leaves shall whisper them merrily
A tale of the children, who planted me."
Anonymous
Kelli I got tickeled reading this poem. I couldn't help but think of those deer eating the first-ever tops out of our pecan trees!!
ReplyDeleteTinaleigh