Once upon a time there lived a wizard, old and gray
His robe was all in tatters and he'd seen a better day
His majic, it was slipping and his wand was badly bent
His eyes, once so majestic, were reduced, now, to a squint

His bag of tricks was empty now, his nerves had gone to pot
His hair was thinning rapidly, his teeth were full of rot
His shoulders sagged quite heavily, his pauch was sticking out
His incantations, once so clear, resounded, now, with doubt

His fingers, gnarled and stiffening, once performed the slight of hand
His knees, weaker day by day, made it difficult to stand
They buried him with honors with a seed clasped in his hand
And on the spot they buried him, a proud young tree now stands