Wednesday, July 30, 2008



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.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918

1 comment:

Steph said...

Wowwwwww Sherry ... another gorgeous piece !
My holidays were nice... but not the flu ... seems I'm going to spend some more time in bed :( ...
Take care!