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 The Giving Tree
My Poetic rewrite of the giving tree...Original version by Shel Silverstieiin.

This story has always touched my heart. I love trees. All kinds. There is nothing more horrendous to me than seeing these wondrous creatures exploited and ignored. Our world would be so barren and void with out their quiet grace.

( Poetic Tribute to Shel Silverstein's childrens story)

The Giving Tree

Come! Play! Be happy…
The tree did call to me.
Come run below my reaching arms
in happy company.

I sang and played so joyous
Within her shady love
Embraced inside her comfort
Cherished like a dove.

In Summertime she cradled me
Within her boughs so long
She fed me peace and apples
Hushed me with her song.

I asked her once for money
Brash humor…being bold.
She lent a cart of fruit to me
to change it into gold.

I went upon my lively way
Intent to make my splash
I found that selling apples
Brought only so much cash.

My tree she waited steadfastly,
Through season's changing tide
Reached out her empty branches
Like compass points so wide.

Through all my youngish follies
I thought often of my tree
And one fine day in autumn
I sought her company.

Through tall grass I came trudging
To meet her mangled girth.
I stood there contemplating
How long she'd graced this earth.

Grandmother I need lumber
With which to build a boat
I stared into her branches,
Imagined them afloat!

Take my limbs… then dear one
Build yourself an ark!
Sail out unto the sun's warm glow
Offer him your spark!

I took her wondrous treasure
I cut it into planks
I built myself a good strong boat
And offered her my thanks.

My venture was soon thwarted
I met with fate's design
I lost my treasure and my ship…
So for my tree I pined.

I set my goal for homeward ports
Athwart oceans of regret
I made my way back to the field
Where my dear tree was set.

I walked across the frozen ground
I moved most hurriedly
To place myself against her bark
In happy company.

Come! Play! Be Happy!
The tree did sing to me.
I told her that I did not play,
I'd lost my infancy.

Her branches moved, she seemed to sigh
I pressed upon her side
I whispered soft against her flesh…
I want to take a bride.

I said, a house I chiefly need
I want to build a barn!
I need more lumber my dear friend
Do not be alarmed.

With soft sweet words I wooed her
My need was not belied  
She offered me her very trunk
Upon which I reclined.

Very soon I carted off
A vast supply of wood
To build a firm foundation
A house both safe and good.

Go be well. Be happy!
My tree did call to me.
Nestle safely in your home…
Don't worry over me!

I built a house…both safe and good
I raised a family there.
I oft remembered my dear tree
And towards her field I'd stare.

One stark day, in wintertime
I stumbled out again…
Through snow of deep December,
To visit my old my friend.

Come! Play! Be Happy!
The tree's stump cried to me.
I slumped towards the greeting
In somber misery.

I am too old to play I said…
My happiness is gone.
I've lost my wife to illness
I find myself alone.

Camaraderie is what I need.
A place away from town.
Someplace I  can rest myself...
And  watch the sun go down.

Come! Sit! Be happy.
The tree did beg of me….
I haven't moved a single inch
I've waited here for thee.


Ramona Gibson Hughes
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