Poetry and Art

Beech Tree

The trunk spread wide cross the forest floor
The tree has grown to be one the boy adores.
In a field where the Fiddlehorn grow
A place where the wind will always blow
A little river gurgles nearby,
And across the meadow the bees and butterflies fly.

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I know this one is super short, but a friend of my mother's gives me writing assignments (he also gives me art lessons😀). One of them was to write about my mom's favorite tree. She doesn't have one, so she told me to write about his, hence the Beach Tree.