By George, age 6
Over where the ancient trees grow, grow, grow,
A bushy moth journeys slow, slow, slow.
Howler monkeys echo through the tangled green,
Marking their territory unseen but keen.
High in the canopy, where sunlight gleams,
Eagles patrol the forest streams.
Scarlet ibis beam with graceful hands,
Gliding the skies so high in the land.
On mangy leaves, so juicy and fresh,
Tree frogs, reptilian spies, devour their flesh.
Near tangled roots where wild rivers run,
The rainforest breathes, and its species grow.