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 earth’s sweet flowing breast. A tree that looks to 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.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/FORBI19300701.2.12
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Forest and Bird, Issue 21, 1 July 1930, Page 9
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84TREES. Forest and Bird, Issue 21, 1 July 1930, Page 9
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