We've cut the tree for warmth in winter's chill,
Only to lose its shade when summer's heat is still.
Cut only a branch, and let new life begin,
And you'll have fire and shade to cherish within.

The words from your letter drip like honey to my evening delight,
You brighten my soul through the beauty of your creativity
And bring colour to my world as the sun runs out of sight,
Pluck your daring heart from the tree of uncertainty,
And scribble with a smile your heat's intent.

Ms Anderson, Ms Anderson,
Wherefore art thou my teacher?
Grant my pen a poet's gift
Let me scribble my pencil thin,
Writing, kindling your blossom smile.
You, beautiful as you flip my file
Which has me commit to your homework, while
Sitting at home with a radiant smile.

Ms Anderson, Ms Anderson,
Wherefore art thou my teacher?
'tis true, nobody's perfect -- nobody but you.
Naughty I was and punish you did that's true.
"Write, 'I will listen in class.'" you said demure,
"on each line of those two pages; and stop being immature."
I'd Sit and contemplate, drool and scribble,
"Lovely miss Anderson. My miss Anderson"

Ms Anderson, Ms Anderson,
Wherefore art thou my elder?
Were you younger, by a decade or two,
I grant I'd hop and merrily skip,
With you on the park and  buy you a sweet.
I'd look in your eyes, and call you Anderson.
My dear Anderson.

They fell; faster than spring leaves, off the family tree.
Dear uncle. Dear mom. Why me? Why you?
We smiled --moments ago-- legitimate and calm and free
Glittering health during the plague, how not true.

Smiles of hopelessness, tears of hope,
lying living, half in life, tombstone carved in your eyes
You brought hope, you liar, how then do we cope?
In truth, did you know? Or faked your shine for true smiles.

Yes you're gone, now we need healing
Our hearts stabbed by your last smile and hasty departure.
It all changed but it somehow remained the same
Into the dust lies thine stature, lies thine of stature.

I'll hang on to the echoes of your voice,
Your face from the mind's flashing window's glimpse,
Your touch from showering echoes of noise
From then when I became undone, like opened gifts.