Trees 

I think that I shall never see 

A poem as lovely as a tree 

A tree who’s hungry mouth is pressed 

Against the earths sweet flowing breath 

A tree that looks to god all day 

And lifts her leafy arms to pray 

A tree that must in summer wear 

A nest of robins in her hair 

Upon whos 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