Two little birds Sit on a twig. One sits still The other, dances a jig.
Like teardrops; The old tree cried. So much more Was hidden inside.
If you place a sundial The wrong way; It will be midnight, In the middle of the day.
So often people grow old With their stories left untold. It is sad, When all is lost Not understanding What their lives have cost. It is important For our mental health, To know the cards Those before us were dealt. Sometimes, through the story of a tree, You could learn a lot About someone like me.
Sniff, sniff Said the owl. Sniff, sniff Said the rat. Then they both sat down. Now, what do you think about that!
Little forget-me-not Getting ready to bloom, You have a story to tell, Write it soon.
And the music still plays, In the forest grand. As a story unfolds In a far-off land.