Saturday, 3 December 2011
by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)...
If you've ever been to the Joyce Kilmer National Forest in North Carolina you would understand why she would write this poem. It is the largest virgin forest east of the Mississippi River. If you haven't been there and are ever in this part of the country, it is a beautiful place!
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.