trees

[sean_e_boi]

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.