THE TREE

The tree is like a curly-haired girl,

 It spreads its thick hair and its brown hands. 

Its hair strands wither and fall down with a twirl, 

Oh yes! When it grows, it is like a fairy land. 

It stands bravely in the merry March wind,

 It courageously fights back the storm.

 It grows new hair strands after its old ones are cut, 

When it is tired, it retires to its dorm. 

As it grows dark after a tiresome day,

 The tree yawns and rests its hair on a pillow. 

It dozes off in a minute or two,

 The next day, it is as fresh as a golden willow