Roaming, roving, drifting,
searching for the place to be.
That spot that offers all,
shade, height and gaiety.
Stretching, relaxing, lounging,
always beneath its boughs.
Provide each and every,
a dimmed glimmer of hue.
Reaching, pulling, climbing,
amid its mighty branches.
Gives one a chance to see,
so much more because of thee.
Dancing, playing, singing,
the time passing cherrished.
Amongest thy lofty spread,
each finds gala merriment.
When I was done looking,
that place I sought to be.
It’s aside people like you,
a friend who is a tree.
By Greg McNeilly
