The Poinciana Tree

As the seasons pass through the years, And with the clouds the thunder flees; I can look up through the tears, And there stands the Poinciana tree. The red cardinal and blue jays, The doves and crows flew to it, A shelter at night, a place to stay, They are welcomed by it. The fall takes its leaves, Coloring the ground in green, The spring in coral weaves it, The flowers bloom to be seen. To the top the squirrel climbs, Looking for the long seedpods, A meal in the tallest limbs, As the Poinciana quietly nods.