A place for discussion on poetry, reviews, contests, etc. |
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A plea from a tree: Please, kind woodsman, pass me by and ply your trade in forests far. Let me reach for yonder sky, to bask in sun, and sleep by star. Mighty oaks and maples grow in other woods youāve yet to hew. Leave my roots to spread below and let my leaves drink morning dew. Take your tools to yonder wood, where overgrowth now begs for axe. Where healthy elms and firs once stood, withered branches lie in stacks. Please, kind woodsman, let me live, to house the forestās bugs and birds. I still have so much to give to fauna life and poetsā words. |