There the great tree stood,
branching out over the wood,
loving wooden arms feeing all around,
animals feast on fruit upon the ground.
Peaches and apples, the branches had tossed,
but the forest became covered in a frost.
Becoming frozen in time, frozen in place.
The great tree vanished to an underground space.
Uprooting itself and going below,
the fruit, roots and animals all went to follow
until all that remained was a hole, not tree, root nor vine.
In trenched builders who placed down a sign
It read “here once stood the great tree”,
as they brough bricks and mortar quickly,
and they built a large school of red brick
with few windows, but a large clock, tock and a tick
each class was taught by toads,
who used knives upon metal boards, pain by rote.
But beneath this school, in the hole, was heat.
Never to be felt by the students feet.
If you followed the tree, down past the hot core,
you’d see why the the animals followed for.
On the other side, they all gleefully played.
Down there, it was summer, in the warm they had stayed