Before you all think I am completely mad, I think this post needs a little bit of an explanation:
The other evening, I told my dad that I had lost my imagination (which he thought was 'very careless'), and so he asked me to poetically describe the nearest tree to us. But I couldn't do it - I got about as far as 'tall and green' and then I gave up. So here is my much revised description of that very same tree.
Tall, slender and white, the trunk stands straight, like a soldier brought to attention. Its bark is decorated with a spiral of dark, castaneous scratches which look as if they have been sketched on with a wax crayon. Then, it splits off into multiple branches; the ends of which are draped with strings of emerald leaves, giving the overall impression of an antique jewellery stand. It stands aloof, offering its treasures up to the sky...
But only Autumn will take these leaves.