Oak Tree

Tall, tall,
Reach for the sky.
Tall, tall,
So high I could fly.
Reach up,
Let the wind blow my hair.
Reach up,
See birds flying there.
It’s here the sparrows make their nests,
For it’s this tree they love best.
“But what is this tree?” you ask,
And I will reply,
“It is the strong-limbed oak tree,”
“That makes me want to fly.”