Wednesday, October 03, 2012

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

In autumn it is hard not to notice the trees. Right now, they are changing into glorious orange, yellow and red hues. This poem came to mind:

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


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