My Friend

We had a tree in our backyard 

that shed its brown leaves in autumn. 

It was beautiful in full bloom 

but left a mess when it lost them. 

I made a treehouse on my own, 

it was crooked, but it was strong. 

My parents wanted to chop it 

down; I cried, hiding all day long! 

I sadly told my friend, the tree, 

“You will be chopped into a pack, 

along with my special treehouse!” 

“Boo hoo”, the tree had talked right back! 

I said to mum and dad, “Please don’t, 

for the sake of my house and tree. 

I’ll do anything, Anything! 

“Won’t you just please leave them all be.” 

I told them the tree talked to me. 

“Come listen!” Dad said, “Alright son.” 

Dad remembered they were once friends. 

“The tree will stay! Let’s have some fun!” 

We celebrated with our tree. 

Dad helped me build a better fort. 

Mum made cupcakes and laid a rug.

The tree sang with the joy it brought. 

1988 (Age 12)

©Angela Woolcott, 2026