Friday, April 18, 2008


The Tree Poem

Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918 Kilmer was killed in action by a sniper during World War I and is buried in the Oise-Aisne Cemetery, Fere-en-Tardenois, France.

119. Trees

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.

Thanks for lifting this up, Lloyd. I often hear the first line but seldom the rest. It's a wonderful tribute to these amazing plants!
wow!!! i remember reciting this poem with a few other kids during grade school. this is a beautiful and simple poem!!! and i love trees!!! =D
Always love this poem since grade school. Thanks for sharing it once more. Thanks also for your gift of painting. I will always cherish it as a token of our frienship. You must tell me the title of that painting. I didn't have time to blog while on vacation and now I am catching up with your other post. Your paintings are always vibrant and interesting. I enjoyed viewing them.
Yes, I received your envelope. I e-mailed you a separate thank you note. Thanks again.
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