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The Baobab Tree
under whose branches lions lie down
dreaming in the sun,
where baboons sometimes play,
where elephants rip off some bark
and when you walk around it,
its branches look like rows of spears,
and birds do fly up, and bees buzz around it,
and when you come in its shade, smell its fruit,
its leaves and bark does not look similar
to any other tree.
poem
by
Gert Strydom
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