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.
I remember this poem from early in my elementary school days, I had always wrongfully assumed with the name “Joyce”, that the poem was pined by a woman. In surfing for the poem, author and such, I found that Joyce Kilmer was very much a man, a true man’s man. Check out his biography and never judge a man totally by his words. Sometimes the bravest of us carries the gentlest words, and vice versa……….en theos†††jim