Trash Tree

 In my home I was writing a poem,

About a trash tree, who was a home to many bees.

At winter it's very branchy,

When the wind blows it's quite dancy.

In summer the flowers bloom,

 Brides collect it for their groom.

Now it's spring the last stage,

It's time to let your birds out of the cage.

Next it's monsoon when all the fruit grows,

Now it's time for working all cause' of the crows.

After that it's autumn when all the leaves dry,

Soon after sometime most of the birds cry.

In summers people take shelter by it,

with a drink and friends they sit.

In winters children would like to play beside it,

telling their grandma to sit beside and knit.

I still don't know why they call it a trash tree,

when they use it everyday to pass time when they are free.