181. June 30th
The sun seeps into the silent forest,
Lining the soft floor with gold.
Pouring light onto lush green leaves,
Sweetly highlighting the tops of trees.
The dark bark of the sturdy trunk,
Is tough like the skin of a hippo.
An amour-like skin for this proud tree,
Dashing his attackers like pottery.
The leaves of the small ferns below,
Crane their necks in search of sun.
The majestic tree though powerful and mighty,
Politely moves to let the light through.