As the poet 'Kilmer' began to see
There's nothing as lovely as a tree
Except it be, you or me.
And from within the blindness comes
When we hear this years, dumm! Dumm! Dumb!
Then happy sound somes around
But not 'in this most dreadful town'
'cause we have no kids around
but once again comes the happy thought
because we think with mind unrought
and remember the sting that winter brings
with helpful green grass that comes in spring
with happy child like memories
we do like we're taught 'to eat those peas'
and remember what it was like
when we really could climb those trees!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Isn't it funny the things we think about as we get 'older'. My son says 'Age? It's just a matter of mind.' Well...at 22 he can think that. I fell off a chair while I was hanging a picture last year....and I though, 'Oh..what if I had broken my hip? ! ' I certainly don't climb trees anymore. Lovely poem.