The Tree

Down at the pond,
I leaned on a tree.
I leaned on a tree
and it leaned back on me.

Mr. Tree, I asked.
Are you tired today?
Would you like to sit down?
I'm sure it's okay.

A tree must get tired
standing year after year.
Put your roots up, take a break.
Come and sit down right here.

We can talk to each other.
You can tell me your name.
I will sing you a song.
I can teach you a game.

The tree straightened up
and shook it's leafy mane.
It cleared it's woody throat.
And then cleared it again.

A tree has a duty,
it sternly replied.
I cannot sit down.
Then it heaved a great sigh.

The birds need my branches
for their nests in the spring.
These flowers need shade.
And you need this swing.

Little green worms
and little brown bugs
have their homes in my bark.
Which the woodpecker loves.

My leaves sweep the air
and gather the dust.
I cannot sit down.
I'll stand tall. I must.

Hugging it tightly,
I looked up to say.
Thank you for standing
by this pond everyday.

Thank you for standing
so straight and so tall.
Your shade and your branches
mean so much to us all.

Now each day at the pond
when I lean on that tree.
I feel almost certain
that it leans back on me.