Years Have Sped By

Poems

A Tree Was Planted

My tree, how tall you've grown,

You've nearly reached the eaves,

You embellish the sky with your green,

And speak to us in language of the trees.

 

It seems, many years have gone

Since you were, by my dear Hershl, planted.

Deep down, there's remorse and pain

His crowning gift-the tree, so fruited . . .

 

'Twas not destined for him to see

The blossoming of his precious tree;

A legacy to us -- -- his toil,

This green wonder, growing from the soil . . .

 

How tall and graceful you are, my tree,

Your branches with green adorned,

With trunks and roots so mighty . . .

And those tiny leaves you've so loyally guarded.

 

Angry winds, storms and cold,

Taunted you, and threatened . . .

And you, my tree, brave and bold,

All the world resisted . . .

 

You lived your happiness to find --

Your children-every tender little leaf - -

They're in your tree-heart entwined,

With hope and with belief . . .

 

A good morning to you, my hero-my tree . . .

How can one laud you, beloved? . . .

Be blessed and continue fruitful to be,

Humanity's life-stream you've brightened! . . .