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Trees

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This is one of my favourite poems.
It’s perfect.
“I 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.”
“Trees” was published in August 1913.
Joyce Kilmer died from a sniper’s bullet on a
battlefield in France on July 30, 1918, at the age of 31.

Trees

AUD$1,680
Size: 60w x 60h x 3d cms
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Additional Information

This is one of my favourite poems.
It’s perfect.
“I 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.”
“Trees” was published in August 1913.
Joyce Kilmer died from a sniper’s bullet on a
battlefield in France on July 30, 1918, at the age of 31.

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