The cherry tree

One of my treassures
Was a cherry tree
He gave me
His sweet ffruits
He left me
Climb on his branches
When the sun
Punished me
He offered
His cold shadow
And blessed me
With dreams
Outside home
But
The cherry tree
Became old
And the greedy birds
Ate all the fruit
The old friend
Became ill
And
No longer
We saw
His crismon jewels
And our dreams
Of make an hanamy
Became smoke
Now the cherry tree
is dead
And with a heavy heart
We cut him down
And gave to him
A funeral
In the fire