Down in the hollow my son has found
a tree with elbows close to the ground.
A kindly, talkative, child loving tree,
serving as a patient old nursemaid free.
Scattering sun into speckled shade,
arranging it's arms into shapes just made
for holding giant nest's of wood.
If my son looked closer I'm sure he could
In the biggest limbs find nails time hid
for I built a tree house before he did.