Sonnet 1
A sapling seed lies in a field of grain;
Roots slowly dig and grow into rich soil;
The beauty of thus hath never been seen;
Whirlwinds come to the tree, yet cause no toil.
Listen– the leaves tell of thy love for thee;
Hear– the wind whispers sweet nothing to thou;
See– here a strong, well-rooted, handsome tree;
Praise– God for our good love He doth allow.
Yet in time when the leaves shall bud and fall;
With its colors and glamour, the tree– grand;
The strong, well-rooted, handsome tree stands tall;
Through all seasons and storms, the tree shall stand.
Amidst all hardships thy tree may endure,
May the bles’d tree stand tall forevermore.
