A poem by Harry Behn with Cowlick Cottage Farm trees

Pecan grove on Sunday morning

Trees are the kindest thing I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow,

And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their boughs,

Meyer lemon harvest

They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween,
And in the spring new buds of green.

New fig leaf

They are the first when day’s begun,
To touch the morning sun,
They are the last to hold the light,

When evening changes into night,

Live oak at dusk

And when a moon floats on the sky,
They hum a drowsy lullaby,
Of sleepy children long ago…
Trees are the kindest things I know.

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Cowlick Cottage Farm Welcome to CCF. I’m Carolyn Binder, a passionate writer, avid photographer, cook and gardener. My love of gardening and writing have transformed my cooking and our lifestyle (...more)

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