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Description
On a sunny december sunrise,
By a lake, a tree beautiful and wise.
It looks whole, standing by the shiny shore,
Yet inside it, it had a hollow core.

The tree was full with inhabitants of the skies,
Shining from it were two great eyes.
They belong to no type of monster or beast,
But are butterfly's wings, who does not wish to be a beast's feast.

Close by, on the wise trees shoot,
Sits the master of disguise in his grey suit.
It looks like a twig, bit it's not whatyou expect,
It's a disguised inhabitant, a stick insect

Then on another twig, is a dull brown nest,
In it a dull grey bird, in his place of rest.
Though he has no shiny beak, and he has no colour,
His voice is full of rainbows, most beautiful songs author.