Limbs are lengthy like a tree.
The smile is blossoms for all to see.
Voice of syrup sweetly flows,
Kind despite all the highs and lows.
Through each winter the life persists,
The next season comes with joy and wit.
Near its' folks the tree grew up.
It always mainained a half-full cup.
Protecting are the branches,
From wind and sleet an hail and ashes.
Twenty one rings marked across,
Reflect many years of love and loss.
Strength from storms is not enough.
The tree needs scholarships though it's tough.