MY AUNTIE - by George Naylor

 

MY  AUNTIE by  George Naylor When I was hopeless, you were there.You picked me up; you showed me care.Without the love you had for meGod only knows where I would be. To me, you were a second mom,a person I drew wisdom from.In my corner every fight,you always cared that things were right. I won't forget the things you've done.I felt like your adopted son.Ready now and feeling new,I couldn't leave not thanking you.

BEST AND WISEST MOM - by Joanna Fuchs

 

BEST  AND  WISEST  MOM by  Joanna Fuchs Mom, I wish I had words to tellHow much you mean to me.I am the person I am today,Because you let me be. Your unconditional loveMade me happy, strong, secure.Your teaching and exampleMade me confident, mature. In all the world, there is no motherBetter than my own.You're the best and wisest person, MomI have ever known.

THE TWO TREES - by William Butler Yeats

 

THE TWO TREES by William Butler Yeats Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,The holy tree is growing there;From joy the holy branches start,And all the trembling flowers they bear.The changing colours of its fruitHave dowered the stars with merry light;The surety of its hidden rootHas planted quiet in the night;The shaking of its leafy headHas given the waves their melody,And made my lips and music wed,Murmuring a wizard song for thee.There the Loves a circle go,The flaming circle of our days,Gyring, spiring to and froIn those great ignorant leafy ways;Remembering all that shaken hairAnd how the winged sandals dart,Thine eyes grow full of tender care:Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.Gaze no more in the bitter glassThe demons, with their subtle guile.Lift up before us when they pass,Or only gaze a little while;For there a fatal image growsThat the stormy night receives,Roots half hidden under snows,Broken boughs and blackened leaves.For ill things turn to barrennessIn the dim glass the demons hold,The glass of outer weariness,Made when God slept in times of old.There, through the broken branches, goThe ravens of unresting thought;Flying, crying, to and fro,Cruel claw and hungry throat,Or else they stand and sniff the wind,And shake their ragged wings; alas!Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:Gaze no more in the bitter glass.

I LOVE A TREE - by Samuel N. Baxter

I LOVE A TREE by Samuel N. Baxter When I pass on to my reward,Whatever that may be,I’d like my friends to think of meAs one who loved a tree. I may not have a statesman’s poise,Nor thrill a crowd with speech,But I can benefit mankindIf I set out a beech. If I transport a sapling oakTo rear its mighty head,’Twill shade and shelter those who comeLong after I am dead. If in the park I plant an elm,Where children come to play,To them ’twill be a childhood shrineThat will not soon decay. Of if I plant a tree with fruit,On which the birds may feed,I’ve helped to foster feathered friends,And that’s a worthy deed. For winter, when the days grow shortAnd spirits may run low,I’d plant a pine upon the ‘scape;’Twould lend a cheering glow. I’d like a tree to mark the spotWhere I am laid to rest,To me ‘twould be an epitaphThat I would love the best. And though not carved upon a stoneFor those who come to see,My friends would know that resting hereIs one who loved a tree.