If I were a tree, I wood like poplar music. Especially Spruce Sprigsteen. Or Johnny Cash’s Balsam Prison Blues.
Successful mating results in spawn attaineous combustion.
I didn’t want to walk in the woods. But I was forest.
What tree is thriving in this depressed economy? The weeping will owe.
Arborists are into treesomes. Which leads to a lot of unplant pregnancies.
Arborists are underappreciated. They should take a bough.
What’s a vegetarian’s favourite place to dine?
I wish I could piss on a tree! Oh, how I’ve pined and urined fir that scents of pees! Or at least dribble on my balsam.
The Northern Lights are so bright they can set off forest fires. There’s nothing more spectaular than A roaring Borealis.
The Queen ordered that all the redwoods in England be cut down, because despite their height they gave very little shade. “They are guilty,” she said, “of high tree sun.”