The Little Tree
The little tree stood all alone
feeling quite forsaken
His little heart broke and he gave up hope,
as the more beautiful trees were taken
How they mocked and taunted, boughs waving in self satisfaction
As, one by one they were taken away
to be the center attraction.
The scrawny little conifer knew
he would never have the honor
Of being invited into a home to brighten a cozy corner.
He had heard of the Magical Season
that occurred only once a year
A season when trees were part of what
Was referred to as Holiday Cheer
Dejected, forlorn, he gave up all hope, and as night time fell
he wept,
Fearing he would never know joy again
somehow he finally slept.
Now, being the Season of Miracles
even animals can talk you see,
So as sunbeams made rainbows on the morning dew, they gathered round the tree.
The squirrels brought nuts to adorn his branches; the deer gave some velvet for show
A little mouse carefully placed a mitten ... he had found in the snow.
The birds brought berries of red for his boughs, which looked lovely against the green
And the little creatures exclaimed
he was the most beautiful tree they had seen.
The little tree was so happy, as the birds and the breeze sang their songs
He felt so loved and knew at last
He was right where he belonged.
©Sharon Langan
|Poetry Index|Home|
Guest Book
|E-Mail|
|
|
|
|