The Negligent Nights of Trees

I can scarcely remember

The negligent nights of November,

When the dreams of palm trees began.

Of flights to the moon,

The notes of a bassoon,

And the strolls aloft the sand.

I dreamed of a panda who waltzed with a man,

Who attired in light trousers and had his own band.

I remember the palm tree so quiet and mourning,

Of the little strip of land his trunk was adorning,

And I said to the tree:

How quiet you be!

On this bright and cheerful morning.

‘I cannot be happy’, said he,

‘Where I do not wish to be,

On this bright and cheerful morning.’

‘Where would you go?’ Said I

And he spoke with a sigh,

‘Across the stars and to the moon,

‘Where the sun doesn't shine so brightly so soon,

‘Where I cannot hear that dreadful bassoon,

On this bright and cheery morning.’

So with a quick thought,

And a nickel I bought,

A galore of pink balloons.

So later he could travel to that solitary moon.

On that bright and cheerful morning.

And I said to the tree:

And so shall it be!

On this bright and cheerful morning.