Leaves are falling off the tree,
Outside it’s cold as it could be.
But when it’s getting warmer by the sun
The leaves will grow back, as it began.
In the winter it’s the same,
The leaves will get brown and lame,
That’s the life of a three, every year the same.
Hot ore cold, dry ore wet,
The tree will be growing as large as it can get.
Nobody will notice how big it could be,
It’s going so slow, nobody could see.
The person that planted it was so gald,
Thad he saw a few years later how big it could get.
He felt big and strong,
Because he knew how it began.
A small tree not one year old,
That moment was as pretty as gold.
Small little and as week as it could be,
Was now a very large and strong tree.
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I think this poem is my favourite. My vote goes to this one.
ReplyDeleteLinka de Does.