Our daddy has bought us the strangest of trees -
But now this is my secret. Don’t tell others please.
Instead of green leaves on its branches you’ll see
That its letters tell us it’s an alphabet tree.
When autumn winds blow, letters whirl in the breeze
And I’ve written good poems with the help of these trees.
Sonnets drift to the earth; ballads blow in the air
And those haikus take shape with the minimum care.
Rhyming stories soon form as the letters swirl round
And, with help from my broom, they are swept from the ground.
When the poems take shape, tell me what do I do?
Well, I’m sure that you know for I share them with you.
Copyright on all my poems