Tree People

Friday again!


Poetry.










Tree People
© 2009 Rolland G. Smith

I found some people in a tree
But then I knew that they were me.
They are my son’s twin daughter’s planned
And I the one with children grand.

I think that trees like kids to climb
And poets then to find the rhyme
To tell the story of assent
Into the tree when knees are bent.

Once up upon the limbs of bark
Lets me below make this remark,
“Be careful kids you’re high enough
Go no higher for then it’s rough

For elder me and you so young
To get you out of high branch rung.”
My worry was forever naught
And my concern thus overwrought.

The kids so nimble as they are
Did swing to ground that was not far.
And I as “Pop” did look away
As the kids went off to play.

I’m thinking of a saw I know
To cut the limb that’s way below.
And if they ask, “why did you cut?”
“Your Grannie's threat to kick my butt.”