Sycamore Tree Poem by John A'Hern

Sycamore tree, standing proudly
Years in the making of its surrounds.
Standing at the base of the trunk
A 10-year-old trying its luck.
Looking, smiling, and up they go
Only monkeys would put on a better show.
Branch after branch heading for the top,
Chances taken as leaps are taken.
Reach the summit, a shout of victory,
Hold on tight out of breath.
A kingdom to watch over
Views not seen by mere mortals,
Unless a skill to climb tall trees.
The tree relieved, its branches protected
The young person inherited,
The child bestowed, is safe and well.
A speech is made, words made up,
If trees could smile this one surely would have.
A voice from the kingdom down below,
Brings our hero back to reality.
A mother's voice demanding action
Come down at once tea is calling.