A poem on trees

I love trees, I’ve always loved them. When I was a little girl and used to watch the cartoon, “Dr Snuggles”, I just adored the trees with faces. Another favourite is this extract from C.S. Lewis “Prince Caspian” –

Lucy’s eyes grew accustomed to the light, and she saw the trees that were nearest her more distinctly. A great longing for the days when the trees could talk in Narnia came over her. She knew exactly how each of these trees would talk if only she could wake them, and what sort of human form it would put on…

“Oh, Trees, Trees, Trees,” said Lucy (though she had not been intending to speak at all). “Oh, Trees, wake, wake, wake. Don’t you remember it? Don’t you remember me? Dryads and Hamadryads, come to me.”

Though there was not a breath of wind they all stirred about her. The rustling noise of the leaves was almost like words. The nightingale stopped singing as if to listen to it. Lucy felt that at any moment she would begin to understand what the trees were trying to say. But the moment did not come. The rustling died away… Yet Lucy had the feeling (as you sometimes do when you are trying to remember a name or a date and almost get it, but it vanishes before you really do) that she had just missed something…

(Prince Caspian: What Lucy Saw)