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The Woods are on Fire
The woods are on fire!
The little girl cried
Her hair all amiss
A frown on her face fixed
And a tear in her eye.
Worry not little one
For when it is done
The trees will all grow
However, quite slow,
But tall, beautiful and strong.
The flowers come first
From the ground they will burst
To make sure you cry no more.
And soon rain will pour
To quench the growing trees thirst.
But I’ll miss them, she said
And my trees will be dead.
But from them will come new
And they’ll grow just for you.
And with that she lifted her head.
Long after I died
The trees multiplied
And forest remains in my name.
The trees grew up strong, no branch the same
And the little girl never again cried.
