I THINK THAT I SHALL NEVER SEE
A POEM LOVELY AS A TREE...
A TREE WHOSE HUNGRY MOUTH IS PRESSED
AGAINST THE EARTH SWEET FLOWING BREAST...
A TREE THAT LOOKS AT GOD ALL DAY...
AND LIFTS ITS LEAFY ARMS TO PRAY.
A TREE THAT MAY IN SUMMER WEAR
A NEST OF ROBINS IN HER HAIR.
A TREE WHOSE BOSOM SNOW HAS LAIN,
WHO INFINITELY LIVES WITH RAIN...
POEMS ARE MADE BY FOOLS LIKE ME...
BUT ONLY GOD...
CAN MAKE A TREE.
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