I have been past many trees,
With green and brown and golden leaves.
They sit there with their stupid grins,
Creaking timbers, swaying limbs.
I have known some top notch trees,
Some inland, some found by the seas.
Their sense of wit and debonair charm,
Betrays the fact that they do harm.
The larch, the bastard of the bunch,
Turn your back, and you're his lunch.
The old oak tree, down by the lake,
Go prepared or come back an old oak steak!
I hate the elm, his leaves so fussy,
The birch, the willow both brazen hussies.
But worst of all...the damn Sycamore,
"Assistant, pass me my trusty saw!"
And so these are all trees I have known,
In days gone past, their seeds they've sown.
Down through the ages they weave their way,
"Cut em down, build a bypass!" is what I say!!!!
(c) 2007, Neil Gardner