TREES
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray,
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair
A nest of robins in her hair
Upon whose bosoms snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems were made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree.
But only God can make a tree.
Joyce Kilmer 1886 - 1918
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