Tree

Trees are the kindest things I know,

They don't harm, and they simply grow.

And spread a shade for sleepy cows,

And gather birds among the boughs.

They are the first when days begun,

To touch the beams of morning sun.

They are the last to hold the light,

When evening changes into night.

And when a moon floats on the sky,

They hum a drowsy lullaby

of sleepy children long ago,

Trees are the kindest things I know.