Young man come set with me
and I shall tell you a story about
a poet, who once… long ago
wrote a lovely poem about a tree.
His name was Joyce.
He was young and very strong.
He joined the Rainbow Division,
and sailed the ocean forlorn.
Landing in a foreign land,
he bravely shouldered his rifle
in a fiery last stand, and he died
defending this great land.
Many poems he had penned,
but none were as lovely as...
"Trees."
He now lies peacefully under the shade of a great oak.
A blanket of Autumn leaves serves as his colorful warm clock.
He once wrote; "Poems are made by fools like me,
but only God can make a tree."