In a world of concrete and steel,
Where progress is the modern zeal,
Stands a sentinel of ancient birth,
A steadfast guardian, the noble tree.
With branches reaching for the sky,
Its leaves a lullaby, a gentle sigh,
It whispers secrets to the breeze,
And dances with the birds and bees.
Beneath its roots, the earth it binds,
A sacred contract through all times,
It cradles life in its woody arms,
And shelters creatures from all harms.
In spring, it dons a gown of green,
With blossoms in a vibrant sheen,
A promise of life’s eternal song,
As nature’s symphony plays along.
In summer’s heat, it offers shade,
A cool retreat for tired and frayed,
Its canopy a respite sweet,
A place to rest in nature’s seat.
In autumn, leaves in colors bright,
A fiery show, a pure delight,
They fall like whispers to the ground,
Carpeting earth without a sound.
And when the winter winds do blow,
It stands against the ice and snow,
A testament to strength and grace,
A symbol of life in a barren place.
Oh, the stories it could tell,
Of ages passed, it knows them well,
Of lovers’ trysts and children’s play,
Beneath its boughs, both night and day.
So let us cherish this ancient tree,
A gift of nature, wild and free,
A reminder of our roots and worth,
The guardian of the precious Earth.
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