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  <title>Poppy Clayton</title>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 20 Mar 2011 05:59:59 GMT</pubDate>
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  <description>&lt;i&gt;An oak tree and a rosebush grew,&lt;br /&gt;Young and green together,&lt;br /&gt;Talking the talk of growing things-&lt;br /&gt;Wind and water and weather.&lt;br /&gt;And while the rosebush sweetly bloomed&lt;br /&gt;The oak tree grew so high&lt;br /&gt;That now it spoke of newer things-&lt;br /&gt;Eagles, mountain peaks and sky.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I guess you think you&apos;re pretty great,&quot;&lt;br /&gt;The rose was heard to cry,&lt;br /&gt;Screaming as loud as it possibly could&lt;br /&gt;To the treetop in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;And now you have no time for flower talk,&lt;br /&gt;Now that you&apos;ve grown so tall.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&apos;s not so much that I&apos;ve grown,&quot; said the tree,&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&apos;s just that you&apos;ve stayed so small.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Shel Silverstein</description>
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