If I Were A Tree

If I were a tree, which would I be

The smallest or tallest in the forest

An evergreen swaying in the breeze

Reaching higher than any other

The solid oak, broad and full of hope

Its grainy core drives an artist to soar

A home that builds a home

Where love is nested, through time tested

That thick pine, that points to star a line

When a moment of birth, shook the earth

To a drummers hum, “rumpa-pum-pum”

“oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree”

Cherry blossoms flourish then vanish

Birch intoxicates a summer burn

Fast as a blink, the crave returns quick

For here comes autumn, leaves have fallen

If I were a tree, which would I be

The maple that stands proud and humble

Rooted deep enough, takes the rough stuff

A symbol of a place that roots my space

Limbs gently wave over lovers names engraved

I had a dream that I became a tree

It took years to grow until the truth comes to know

Plump and full knowledge, time comes to pay homage

“I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree” – Joyce Kilmer