If flowers could natter
And trees could talk,
Would they say hello
Or nothing at all?
Would they tell us to pick them
With heady perfume?
Or shout 'No, leave us!
You want us too soon!'?
Would the mighty oak
Invite us for tea?
Would he smile over Earl Grey
And custard creams?
Would the cowslips and poppies
Persuade us to play
With them in the meadows
If just for the day?
Or would they remain,
As for years they've observed,
In silence. Just silence,
Their hearts still unheard?
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