I saw a wood,
Stiff it stood;
Rough and brown
Peeled down.
I saw a wood,
Another one;
Withering old;
High and green.
I saw a wood,
Third the same;
Growing small,
Loud and lame.
I saw a wood,
The last, I plea;
I haven't seen
a living tree.
I say this is a wonderful sweet poem on trees but I'm surprised u haven't seen a living tree or maybe in town areas wood is just furniture and trees are out of sight u meant? Wow great ideas poem I enjoyed reading, nice to read from u again. Kudos. Pls do review my latest poem too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thank you for the comment, Zaynab Kamoonpuri