From tiny saplings to giant trees,
They stand all day and gently sway.
They take our harmful co2,
They give us the air that we breath.
Some quietly stood for hundreds of years,
Have watched all our history go by.
What tales they'd tell of our yesteryears,
If they could talk, tell all they saw.
Heart of Oak were our mighty Ships,
Ruling the waves, enabling an Empire.
Cricket Bats made from the graceful Willow,
Gave us our National game.
But the greatest gift that they endow is that of year long beauty,
Marking the changing seasons in natures own special way.
In Winter, reaching to the skies, like skeletons they stand,
Stark silhouettes with branches bare though all the rain and snow.
In Spring they raise our spirits when buds swell forth and burst,
With fresh green leaves of every hue that signal life anew.
In Summer and full leaf they stand, so very proud and tall,
Leaving us in wonder at our green and pleasant land.
In Autumn the cycle is complete, with just one final treat.
A riot of colour, leaves hang like jewels, dancing in the breeze,
Ruby red through to rusty brown, ochre, yellows and limes.
Leaves shimmer like fire on a sunny day then float down to the ground.
A magic carpet of Autumn tones is settled all around,
Lay like a mosaic, in a pallet so rich and warm.
This is the life cycle of our Trees,
Another ring on the trunk marks the year gone by.
Dormant now, resting, ready for Spring,
When the cycle begins all over again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem