Trees

Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem as 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

Poem are made by fools like me

But only god can make a tree

 

By Joya Kilmer