Harry Behn


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 fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,

And leaves to burn on Hallowe’en,
And in the Spring new buds of green.

There are the first when day’s begun
To couch the beams of morning sun,

They are last to hold delight
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.