When through the bush you walk, With stealth wild animals to stalk.
Restfully savoring the breeze, In the shade of the trees.
Whilst the sun climbs higher, Ones skin getting drier.
The grass itch you feel, From your head to your to heel.
When the throat feels parched, From the distance you've marched.
You reach a mahogany glade, With the cool of the shade.
From the huge spreading bough, One can rest for an hour.
Enjoying the tranquillity, That escape from the city.
Alone on this African stage, You wonder of the age.
Of these large old giants, Who's age is a science.
Where man and beast, Can share the peace.
Of the shade they provide, For as long as they survive.
Now it up to you and me, To save each and every tree.
Not just for the future generations, But for all of Africa's nations.
Can you imagine such a land, Where it is not possible to stand.
Under an age old bough, You're in a desert now.
In generations to come, I hope there will still be some.
Of this great majesty, In the form of a tree.
Written by Pete Barlow 18/05/2000
Email : Pete Barlow