
tree
	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.
		[ Trees - Joyce Kilmer ]
