A PERFECT CLIMBING TREE
The base of the tree is all rough and quite round,
Lots of places where hand and foot holds are found,
With sturdy low branches, safe thick and strong,
Up in that tree is where most children belong.

Six or seven of us can play hide and go seek
In the hot summer, when you cannot even peek
Through the thick foliage of leaves of bright green,
If you sit quietly many birds and animals are seen.

But the very best time to climb the tree of all,
Is just after all those lovely leaves begin to fall,
As you climb higher and higher up the mighty tree,
It is really very surprising just how far you can see.

Past the grassy meadow and the large duck pond,
Over the rocky ridge to the vast world that is beyond,
Then, when the sun shines bright, do you know what we do?
We pretend we are sailors sailing on a sea of bright blue.

Sometimes I may be the captain or the first mate,
If the wind blows hard we may meet an awful fate,
We cling to the mast or the spars of our great galleon
Until we hear the call for supper, then our dream is gone.

Every place should have a perfect climbing tree,
One where boys and girls can all play happily,
Meet the birds and creatures that live and run free,
And also be a captain or first mate, sailing on a blue sea.

M Ann Margetson © September 28, 2001