Such Lovely Mates

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Sun and trees, such lovely mates,
Birth great emeralds for my eyes,
Various, growing at different rates,
They charm the very lowest skies.

The trees, they need the sun,
But the sun is haughty, removed,
From all beings, every one.
This, we know, was proved.

Yet, in illusion, mates they seem,
Giving shine to beauteous leaves,
Such wonders, as if I dream,
When gone, my heart greaves.

When green grows great,
A smile inhabits my face.
Ah, how the sun illuminates,
The children of such lovely mates.





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