The Leaf

Since he was a tiny bud he’d wished to fly or dance
But tethered to an ancient oak he couldn’t see a chance
The trunk and thickest branches round him hardly moved at all
“Keep on keeping on and on, then you’ll get thick and tall”
All kinds of birds would land and cheep and preen and hop and hide
He’d wave as they would dive and swoop and soar with joy and glide.
His colour changed from green to brown but still he was no dancer.
He heard, one day, self help from birds.  He knew he had the answer.
The sun was bright, his colours shone, he felt a fierce wind blow
“To let your dreams come true,” they’d said, “don’t doubt but just let go.”
Then he was off in pirouettes, in tumbling loops he spun
He floated, flew and flipped and wheeled.  He’d never had such fun.
With grace he gently touched the ground, his dance was now more subtle.
He swooned, rose up and balanced in a twisting little scuttle
The spot he chose to land upon was on a compost heap
His need to dance being sated he was now content to sleep.