Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow.
And spread a shade for sleepy cows
And gather birds among their boughs.
They give us fruits and shade from above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Hallowe’en.
And in the spring new buds of green,
They are the first to know when day has begun,
To touch the beams of morning sun.
They are the last to hold the light,
When evening changes into night.
And when a moon floats on the sky,
They hum a drowsy lullaby,
Of sleepy children long ago
Trees are the kindest things I know.
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