Many people walk through the trunks of the trees.
The trees run high and wild.
The trunks of the trees are wide.
More than three men would be needed to wrap their arms around it.
The tops of the trees are occupied by the many different coloured birds.
Perched on the highest branches, singing a beautiful melody.
The people laugh and smile on this beautiful day.
As they walk through the trunks of the tree.
People picnic on the soft, green grass.
Red and black blankets spotted with food.
Fruits, cakes and sandwiches.
They sit between the trunks of the trees.
Children run and play.
They laugh and cry as they lose or win.
They sing back to the birds
They flap their arms like wings.
Their small, fragile hands trace the trunks of the trees.
The sun peeps through the big leaves.
Warming the birds up in their nests.
Small spots of sunlight peer through
And light up the soft, green grass.
The soft, gentle, warm wind runs throughout the trunks of the trees.
Soon night-time falls.
The birds stop singing as they nestle deeper into their nests.
Families pack up the food, into straw baskets.
They pack up the red and black blankets.
Children are sleepy, and rubbing their eyes.
They whisper goodnight to the birds, and the blue skies.
As they walk to their car, their small hands run along the trunk of the trees.
YOU ARE READING
The Trunks of The Trees.
Poetryanother piece I wrote for school!! tell me what you think?
