‘Trees’: Poem by Aanya Singh, Apeejay School, Kharghar

I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the Earth’s sweet flowing breast.
A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray.
A tree that may in summer wear a nest of robins in her hair.
Upon whose bosom snow has lain, who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.
Each tree begins as a tiny seed, planted in the earth, it starts to feed.
It grows and stretches towards the sky, reaching up with branches high.
In spring, it blooms with flowers bright, in summer, it provides shade and light.
Birds make nests among its leaves and sing sweet songs on gentle eves.
When autumn comes, its leaves turn gold, A sight so beautiful and bold.
In winter, it stands tall and bare, with snowflakes resting in its hair.
Year after year, it grows so strong, Witnessing the world’s busy throng.
A living poem that never dies, a testament to the Earth and skies