Yes trees do chirp,
Tunes of wanton desire,
Deep hidden, yet echoing
Like the nested cuckoo.
Yes trees do chirp.
Dart between themselves,
In golden coats of fur,
As if they were squirrels.
Yes trees do chirp,
Under a cloud laden sky.
Mixed with the mist of seas,
Almost drunk in love of earth.
Whilst the sky above,
Drips with mead of ages,
Embracing the leaves as they shiver,
Tip toed ever so gently
Breeze of fresh life
Blows songs of a lost people.
The trees stand,
In a millennium of silence,
Waiting, patient
For some one,
Who, whom, I do not know.
In the interim
They do chirp.
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