The Mystic Art of Tree Hugging

We all crave hugs; ain’t that the truth?

Young, middle-aged and long-in-tooth

We like to feel that we belong

And someone else can sing our song.

 

But life is what it is, sometimes

And so, we read between the lines

It happens friends aren’t round to hear,

Console us and provide good cheer…

 

But Isabella, pink and pert

Is wise beyond her years, alert;

When you’re alone and no one’s free

Commune with nature - hug a tree!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024