Tuesday, March 27, 2007


The old elm towers above the lawn
With it's ranches drooping down,
And one by one it's withered leaves
Falls fluttering to the ground.

Long years a landmark it has been,
This sentinel of the street,
Have defied many a raging storm,
And winter's snow and sleet.

In spring this elm admired by all
Displays it's leaves so green,
And stands so stately and so tall
Dress in a coat of sheen.

Now it's a nuisance neighbours say
When all it's falling leaves
Are cluttering up the walks and lawn,
And choking up the eaves.

So now this tree stands mute and sad,
And wonders at it all,
Why it should be admired in spring,
And frowned at in the fall.

October, 1947

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