Dear Tree,

Long ago was your naissance as sapling you burst from the ground.

Then, grow and grow you did as sun and air through green leaves was found.

Lucky you was not enrolled in that bibliopegy group.

Soon, birds would lie in your arms where hungry chicks would chirp and whoop.

No embargo could limit where the wind might carry your seeds.

Hence, friends began appearing close by, fulfilling social needs.

The auge of your life depends not on how close to stars you reach.

Your purpose stands at its peak each day you’ve been: oak, palm, or peach.

Always highest regards,

Your forest mates.

Categories: Melange

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