I've never tried to climb that tree -
The one in Mercer's Park.
It's crazy wild as can be,
Especially after dark.
Whenever evening draws our way,
And we all head inside,
When the moon comes out to play,
And stars no longer hide,
I'm sure that tree pulls up each root
And, like my Grandma said,
Sweeps up all its leaves and tip
Toes through the flower bed.
And when morning comes,
It's moved away,
And found another place to stay,
Over here or under there,
It could be hiding anywhere.
It was right beside the Wishing Well
Just yesterday at three.
The perfect place to grow a spell,
Far as I could see.
I write children's poetry, nature poems, and a few little oddly-odd blunders. Hope you enjoy the read.
I'd like to publish more of my work here, but PH prevents me from doing that. If you'd like to read the ones PH won't allow, message me.