I CAN hear the buzzing of the bees, The tweeting of the birds, whilst I stand under the old oak tree, I sense the old oak tree talking to me, About the winters it has seen, About the summer heat it has shaded the creatures from, The red robin perching upon the branch of the old oak tree, How I believe the old oak tree likes the company, Of the robin nesting in his large branches.
As I turn and leave the base of the old oak tree, I see him standing there all alone, But wait, the robin stays keeping the old oak tree company, I feel guilty leaving my friend the old oak tree, I turn, taking steps backwards further away watching birds fly out of the old oak tree, As I walk towards my younger oak tree, I turn still protected by the old oak tree; my friend.
SAM YATES,
aged 11
Daglingworth
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