Of Tree and Music

The time was ripe, thought the man at number three,
Considered did the man, that he needed a new tree,
The tree he saw, only one last of it's kin,
And immediately, the man knew the tree was for him,

Brought it home, did the man,
And planted it, near the old, garden can,
The man gazed his old eyes, over the tree but everyday,
Only to realise, that the tree, was fading away,

The man tried everything, to bring the tree alive,
It had not died however, but rather had it been paralyzed,
By the sound of music, that had been playing over shore,
And, over the shore, the violin of the man at number four,
Played for evermore,