Wordsmith at work

 The Last Tree on Earth Tells Its Story Imagine a world, parched and barren, a silent world where you never hear the chirping of birds or the rustling of leaves, and in the midst of this depressing landscape stands a lone tree, weathered and wise. If it could speak, what would it say? The tree would tell a sorrowful tale.   “I once belonged to an endless grove of trees. Tall and sturdy, with thick woody, leafy branches and roots firmly grounded in the soil, our leaves were different shades of green, forming a magnificent sight. We were the lungs of the earth, the source of balance. Children climbed and swung from our branches and played in the shade we provided. We were home to the birds, and squirrels happily scampered up and down our trunks. Our wrinkled bark held the secrets of lovers.  We witnessed the changing seasons—the joys of spring, the warmth of the summer, the freshness and cleansing of the rain the golden splendour of autumn, and the quietude of winte...

  Hello! It’s me, your umbrella, popping in for a chat. We never see each other until the monsoon arrives or you can't bear the sun in May.  I was born in a factory, stitched together with fabric, and stretched over eight slender ribs of steel. I was created to protect you against the blazing sun and the rain. I'm your constant companion in the monsoon.  I have siblings in varying sizes and colours, and we are all foldable. We are also known as a parasol, or fondly as 'brolly.' You station me behind a door, hang me on a peg or tuck me away in your bag, and I wait to be of service to you. When you unfurl me, I open up into a canopy of safety, protecting you from drizzles, downpours, or the blazing sun. I dislike the wind because that naughty chap plays games with me. He turns me inside out, and I feel sorry to see you struggling to make me right. I feel humiliated, and there is nothing more pathetic than an umbrella turned inside out. I feel so touched ...

Blue skies turn to grey, The heavens open wide, Streaks of light Dance in the darkened skies.   Blobs of silver begin to fa Kissing the parched earth,  Filling every river and bay. Children frolic in the rain And watch paper boats sail away.   The mighty tree sways in glee The grass is green  The thirsty earth Now begins to breathe. . Man rejoices In the petrichor so sweet, While bird and beast Are still and calm. Savouring nature’s balm.   It’s time to don your wellies and open your brollies And sip on some warm broth, too Do you love the rain As much as I do? Thank you, Lord For your showers of blessing. This post is part of the weekly blogchatter prompt challenge. Image Credit : Freepik  

  Once upon a time There was a tree Deeply rooted in the earth Its branches spreading wide Thriving in the sunlight. It provided shade and shelter to man and beast Home to chirping birds and scampering squirrels Its green leaves gently danced in the breeze.    Then s horn of its beauty and grace It longed to be upright again And feel the freshness of the rain.   No birds, no nests, No little children Climbing up in zest.    Beloved tree! You were in pain Felled were you for trade and gain.   This post is part of the blogchatterbloghop link.