Sense Sonnet - Pumper

 Back in the Swing

A grove of birch trees we do be,

Remembering time long ago,

A farm boy, on a swinging spree,

Swung so much, we all came to know

The limpness of our branches due

To the boy's swinging us each day,

Many branches touching ground, true!

And thus for a long while would stay.

But then came time that boy was gone,

And we trees missed that swinging boy.

Alone, through years we trees lived on.

And then one day, a renewed joy.

Boy from long ago, now grown up,

Brought his kids to swing on us, yup!