‘Tis many a May with flowers fair
that those with their hearts in the past
will tell of a maid that was caught in the snare
of springtime dreams that last.
Her hair, it was bright as the morning sun,
her eyes, they were green as new grass,
so all of her family and everyone
claimed there ne’er was a lovelier lass.
Yes, she was pretty, and knew it too,
but despaired at the virtues of men;
calling they’d come, but they never saw true
the heart of the maiden named Jen.
Though her face did possess a beauty rare
(let’s keep this between you and me)
to her hopeful swains Jen gave nary a care
for she loved a much handsomer tree.
Embracing his trunk in spring’s first days,
Jen sighed with satisfaction and said,
“How do I love thee? I’ll count all the ways.”
She spoke while he cradled her head.
Now the “wind” in his branches was listening,
and these fey folk thought, “What a treat,”
as they watched the maiden’s eyes glistening
while she looked at her darling so sweet.
“Let us appease this lovelorn maiden’s sighs,
as a tree she’ll be fine to behold.
Come springtime her disguise will be green as her eyes,
in fall, like her hair, ‘twill be gold.”
And that was the tale of Jen and her tree,
but it’s more than a story too;
if it is a tree you don’t wish to be,
be warned, this could happen to you!