Trees

Trees, I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed Against the earth's sweet flowing breast A tree that looks at God all day And lifts her leafy arms to pray Tree, 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 Poems are made by fools like me But only God can make a tree I think that I shall never see