Apple Box

TREES

by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

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      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.

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