An acorn on an oak tree grew, <br />The wind around him gently blew, <br />It whispered to him quite softly <br />'Some day from your mother <br />You will be free <br />To grow and be a mighty tree' <br />'Who'? 'Me'? A mighty oak'? <br />The little acorn thought this a joke. <br /> <br />Cruel autumn wind whistled round <br />And knocked the acorn to the ground. <br />A little girl passing by <br />The small acorn she did spy <br />She picked ot up but let it fall <br />Down a nearby rabbit hole. <br /> <br />All winter long it lay inside <br />Soon it withered and turned dry <br /> <br />In the springtime a shoot of green <br />From the acorn could be seen. <br />It grew and grew, as years rolled by <br />Soon it reached up to the sky. <br />So it was a tale come true <br />A mighty oak <br />From the acorn grew...........<br /><br />Joseph Enright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-acorn/
