The Tree's Winter Cloak Of White Poem by Ken e Hall

Tree's winter cloak of white dressing done
Surviving rays of a cold hazy sun,
Like soldiers in line, strong tall held fast
Roots grip mother earth's soil to last,
Icicles glint on perches empty state,
Leaving squirrels in trunks cosy and warm, as
Deer tarry in the forest glade, no rest since dawn.
With body clocks this spring in time will keep
Dormant leaf buds stay moist with dew to seep,
By magic the beautiful tree purifies the air to breathe
By those with luck that the dead axe men did leave.
Stretched branches silent wisdom tending mother earth's cool
With Centuries passed man's brain wakes to the logging fool,
Is the animal cry in the forest of the night
A call to all living things spelling their plight.