I Wood be a Tree

If I Could

'A wee poem' inspired by events concerning a Poet-Tree box recently

attached to, then removed from (by City decree), a tree in Old South 

If I could I wood be a tree, perhaps a giant red wood

And live 1,000 years, with my head in the clouds.

If not a red wood then something rarer still

Like a coniferiduous or deciduonifer,

With both leaves and needles side by each,

Be green year round and laden with chestnuts.

I would welcome adventurous climbers,

Boys and girls on a swing,

Friends seeking shelter

And birds on the wing.

I would sing with the wind, always in tune,

Reach to the sun and howl with the moon.

I would act as a signpost, point east and west

Lend a hand to a gardener and squirrels in a nest.

I would act as a home for birds in a box,

Take a nail for a poem, hold a line for wet socks.

Really, if I could I wood be a tree,

Perhaps a giant red wood

Or something rarer still.

gah

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Photos by GH