My Tree

The sun shining at the tree,

And the blow of the wind,

The crunch of the leaves,

And the mind to be blind.

The little tree has a trunk,

But the tree can grow,

With the leaves on the branches,

And the tree says hello.

The smell of the honey in the beehive

Smells so good,

The beehive on the tree,

And the smell of the wood.

The animals around the the tree,

Birds and deers,

Which they like to sit under the tree,

Like the shouts they hear

It was a hole in the the middle of the tree.