They do no harm, they simply grow
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their boughs.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween
And in the Spring new buds of green.
They are first when day's begun
To tough 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.
By Harry Behn