Trees - Joyce Kilmer

Trees, By Joyce Kilmer

I 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.

Poems are green and Poetry is mean.
-Poetry Beast

Please accept my endless gratitude,
I'm tickled pink,
You're a gift!
Thank you for your time and attention.
It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.

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