Wordless Wednesday

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 sweet earth's 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.

2 responses

  1. Ironically, one of Pa’s favorite poems. Remember him teaching it to me when I was little. Not far from the 18th, Maureen. Thanks for sharing!

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