![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5giziU9HU1aC4ghe6KPokwaE0Gzd65gsFWdmyms32f6jVjpdWDEhGcEMTEIVRHaJ_vv9kSuHcssh4xUTOeIjOsRZnbGBT4SZA57QgVs5qGP-t1s6Sxl3sMKjxAJPcRygRj1sISA/s400/jerusalem+pine+trees.jpg)
These are some pine trees that my daughter photographed. They remind me of the famous Joyce Kilmer poem, "Trees":
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment