Poem about Trees

The trees, they sway, they dance, they sing,

their roots, they dig deep into the ground,

A steadfast anchor, never to be found.

In summer's heat, they stand so still,

Their shade a haven, cool and thrilled.

In autumn's hue, they don a cloak

Of fiery red and orange and gold.

In winter's chill, they stand so strong,

Their branches bare, yet still so long.

Their beauty ever-changing doth astound,

A testament to nature's profound.

So let us cherish these noble friends

And honor them until the end.

For they in turn do give us life

And all the joys that come with strife.