Tired are those passerby,
Dying under the scorching sun.
Looking for the place to relief.
An old tree that serves for good.
A home for tree dwellers,
Nuts for squirrels and shelter for all.
Blooms fully in springs, aids to beautify nature.
A place where butterflies dance and kiss the
nectar.
Though old, it serves for good.
Its branches, stretched fully,
With breeze, it dances to the tune of nightingale.
It enjoys its life to the fullest.
The sweet fragrance and the cool shade,
Welcomes every passerby.
“It feels good” they remarks.
An old tree, a host for every parasite.
In the wide field, gracefully it lies.
Let not a day come, for someone to say “there was a
tree”.
Let the old tree dwell forever,
A tree of gods and goddesses, that serves good for
all.
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