The Tree

The tree play’s a lonely solitary stance.

Upon the wind it sways and dance’s.              

Stretching its arm as far it can reach.

Shedding its bounty of pears so sweet.

It is just a tree.

Unlike us it is free.

Proud and strong in a changing moods.

Bearing fruit tender and good.

Still its leave’s are shimmering green.

When autumn comes a change can be seen.

Leaves changing color  to a golden brown.

And falling softly to a velvety ground.

In the wind you catch the rustling sound.

In a habitat that constantly evolves.

In a world that forever revolves.

And the children from the branches sing.

From a rope tied tight they gently swing.

Laughter heard escaping softly on a wind.