Growing
There was a fine house
In a story I once knew
Built strong on the ground
’Til beneath a pine grew
It started out small
Just a wee sapling sprout
It wound round the side
Just the tip peeking out
And while it grew
It made not a sound
As it lifted the house
Right off the ground
No treehouse like this
Had ever been seen
A grand home in the branches
Of an evergreen
And the occupants remained
Quite content you see
Growing themselves
Their own family tree
Words: ©2020LCR
Image: ©Christian Lalonde
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