© Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth 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
Poem's are made by fool like me
but only GOD can make a tree