The Swaying Tree

O what a joy it is to see

that sight of moving poetry

a breeze that nestles gleefully

in the open arms, of a swaying tree

With crowns of leaves and greenery

adorning all the scenery

with gifts of fruit and easing shade

those gems of generosity

Have we lost our aesthetic sense?

a bargain for convenience?

without a single caring thought

our printers whir incessantly

We selfishly pollute the air

that all the living creatures share

the air that trees so diligently

try to restore to purity

But hedonism makes us blind

and everywhere the axes grind

chopping and cutting to the ground

the protectors of tranquility

Still they stand, without lament

an embodiment of that quiet strength

if only human beings could learn

something from their humility

Why must they suffer such a fate

at the hands of a human race,

which sacrifices vehemently

for the sake of new technology

Lets hope it isn't much too late

to realise our gross mistake

and give utmost priority

to that selfless gentle swaying tree