Tree

He is the tallest in the land

His firm skin crumbles to the hand

The felt olive leaves are calm as they sway

Restful and happy, he will stay.

The silver branches twirl and twine 

In perfectly painted curvy grey lines.

The birds chirp and trill in their nest

In his sturdy branches they rest.

An old mind's eye 

You think as you walk by

He grows so silently, so nonchalant 

But still so strong and confident.

The moon, she shines, her crystal glow

Below, he smiles, and is friendly so.

The gnarly vine fingers grip

The dews upon his green leaves drip

Healthy, husky and powerfully

Wise, old and in harmony 

Tree