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Birthday Present. Subscribe to this site on Substack |
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A tree is a gigantic hand Else the soil would turn to sand, The land of little worth To those whose favored habitat Depends on fertile loam. The tree then filters well the rain And holds the soil in place, Feeds it with its fallen leaves And keeps it moist with shade. No husbandry could be so sane, No art so full of grace, No well-wrought words so apt to please, No love so well repaid. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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