Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Tree of life
Tree of life We are leaves on the tree of life, we bud, grow, mature then fade, dry fall and perish, nourishing and making way for our successors, as the tree continues to grow towards its destiny.
Love this Hobbo ❤️
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Thank you! 💖
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Beautiful. 😊💙
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Thank you! 💖
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You’re welcome. 😊
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Seasonal lives, makes me want to make the most of each moment.
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👍I get the impression that you are doing exactly that.🙂
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It’s a lovely poem and a lovely sentiment. But I fear that the nourishing of the ground for our successors has gone awry. Sorry to be cynical. It’s still a beautiful poem. Just a spoil sport reader.
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Thank you. I do think we are more aware now, it’s whether we can turn those words into actions quickly enough. 🙂
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A lovely thought, that I’m a leaf. I do worry about infestation though. 🙂
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Those caterpillars could wreak havoc on your capilliaries! 😂
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Oh no! Not the caterpillars! 🐛
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Great poem Hobbo. Yeah we all fall off the tree one day.
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Thanks Vinny! We all get there eventually!
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