Thursday, April 9, 2009

Lusting Beauty . . .

Of 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;


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



Joyce Kilmer

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