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JOSIE'S POEMS

Tree Poems for Children 

By Josie Whitehead

Tree Leaves
Tree Leaves

THE THREE TREES

By Josie Whitehead

Three Trees (The)

Three little trees within a wood

     All talked as they all grew
And, thinking of their lives ahead,

     Dreamed, as we humans do.

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The first tree thought: 'I’ll be a box
    And hold some treasures rare.
A girl will love and cherish me.
    I’ll be in such good care.'

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The second tree, a tiny oak,
    Thought of its years ahead:
'Instead of being some girl’s box
    I'll be a ship instead.'

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The last tree said: 'I’ll not be cut.
    I’ll grow up straight and tall
And my majestic height will be
    Admired by one and all.'

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The years went by and then, one day,
   Men came to cut them down,
And they were carried far away
    To some quite distant town.

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The first of these three friends became
    A trough that held some grain -
And there, inside a cattle shed,
      Its dreams seemed quite in vain.

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The oak tree never was a ship
     But just a fishing boat,
So its dreams too, were cut in size:
     It also could not gloat.

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The third tree too was cut right down
    And stored out in the yard.
Its dreams were also sadly dashed.
    Oh, life was very hard!

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One night two travellers arrived
     And in a barn they stayed.
A baby boy was born that night,
      And in a manger laid.

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This was a very treasured child -
    'The son of God,' they said:
The first tree was, to this small child,
     A warm and cosy bed.

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In later years, the fishing boat,
    Took someone on a lake:
He slept through an almighty storm
     But friends bade him to wake.

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He told the storm to hold its peace,
     And this was quickly done:
This man, with powers to lull a storm,
    Was surely God’s own son.

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In later years the third big tree
   This man did also meet,
But on his back he bore its weight
   Along a crowded street.

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Upon a hill above the town
    They nailed him to its wood
And people crucified a man
      Who only brought them good.

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The first tree held a treasured child,
     The second saw wondrous things
And the third tree sadly saw him die -
     Jesus, the King of Kings.

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Copyright on all of my poems​​

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