Little Trees

By DIANE BARRON

Special to The Press

Little Trees

Little trees are strong one knows,

to stand and carry heavy snows

that bend their tips so tiny

and load their branches piney;

until they look like gnomes or elves

and really not much like themselves

with pointy hats and long white cloaks

they really are the cutest blokes;

Should they be marching, chanting singing?

Should they be holding bells a ringing?

In front of all their guardians towering,

shielding them as they are flowering,

someday they’ll be ones so grand

and they will give the helping hand.

“They have no hands,” you quietly say,

and you are right but this is play;

Imagination is quite OK.; a tiny bit of any day.

A gust of wind, and it’s quite bitter,

encircles like a scarf of glitter

and seems to warm their sluggish sap,

I think it’s time they take a nap;

And they have been such fun to see

we do not care what they will be.