Dear Tree
(a cyhydedd fer)
I pray for you, tree, every spring,
Though that may seem a funny thing.
You wait so long, I think you’ll die.
If that would happen, I would cry.
Not far from you, there stands a stump
Where stood your brother, just a bump.
I’d hate to see you share his fate.
That’s why I care you green up late.
I like your shade on summer days,
Though pods you shed set me a-craze.
And when in fall you turn bright gold
I am afraid you won’t grow old.
You stand in winter dark and bare.
I hope in spring, your life, He’ll spare.
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