Friday, November 19, 2004

Trees

Here is Arizona there isn't a lot of greenery about.  When you pass a building that has grass it stands out.  Lots of palm trees and saguaro cactus, but no willows, pine trees, oak, or maple. When we went home last summer  the amount of trees sometime seemed overwhelding to us.  We have become used to the wide open spaces of the west.  

 Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918  

      Trees

 I THINK that I shall never see  

A poem lovely as a tree.    

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest  

Against the sweet earth's 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.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

We almost moved to New Mexico a few years ago. I remember asking a realtor to find us a house with trees. No easy task! Only place with trees were the cottonwood groves down by the river. :-)

Anonymous said...

I always thought Joyce Kilmer was a woman, imagine my shock when I got older and found out "she" was a man. :)  sandra