Our Pretty Trees


By Joyce Kilmer 1886–1918

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

DSC_8679A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

DSC_8684A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

DSC_8686A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

DSC_8693Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

DSC_8705Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.


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