Trees
Trees :
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.
By
Joyce Kilmer
From
Trees
To HOME PAGE
Share this page:
| Facebook | Twitter |
|
Enjoy this page? Please pay it forward. Here's how to ... Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it? - Click on the HTML link code below.
- Copy and paste it, adding a note of your own, into your blog, a Web page, forums, a blog comment, your Facebook account, or anywhere that someone would find this page valuable.
|
Share this page:
| Facebook | Twitter |
|
Enjoy this page? Please pay it forward. Here's how to ... Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it? - Click on the HTML link code below.
- Copy and paste it, adding a note of your own, into your blog, a Web page, forums, a blog comment, your Facebook account, or anywhere that someone would find this page valuable.
|
Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it?