Trees Are Special

I THINK that I shall never see
a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
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!

Joyce Kilmer 1886–1918