For Shane

Trees

by Joyce Kilmer

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,

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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.

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Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

About Incurable Hope 97 Articles
******************** “I’m a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.” -Mother Teresa ******************** I’m 33. I’m a southern-born, SoCal-conquering, recovery-journeying, (future) banjo-playing prodigy, overall rock star, radical feminist, Jesus-LOVING, Holy Spirit-filled, runner, slam poet and survivor. Most importantly, I’m a human being. And I am whole. This is my journey through and to hope, gratitude, love.

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