I Am A Tree

• Ryan Ferry, Grade 4
• Poetry
• 2015

I am a tree.
I grow from a small seed, teensy tiny to treacherously tall.
I become great, people sitting peacefully under my stalk.
Little children play gracefully around or on my beautiful branches.
I use my long old arms in summer and spring.
I grow my colourful flowers from the purist of resources, sun, water, fertilizer etc.
The people always take them for the beauty of their gardens.
Then my luscious, long, leaves turn to a ruby, rosy, red and fall off to become dust.
I fall into a slumberous, lazy, sleep in the wild, wet, winter.
Over the years, I have learnt how to respect with love and treat others with no regret.
After that, BAM! , I become as dead as a dodo.
No one to love me, or compliment on my small blossoming flowers.
I’ve had my time of beauty, but now all gone.
I am a tree.