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 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.
Joyce Kilmer was born on December 6, 1886, and died on July 30, 1918. While best known for the poem, “Trees,” Kilmer was also a journalist, literary critic, lecturer, and editor. Kilmer’s many other poems focused on the ordinary beauty of the natural world. “Trees” was first published in the August 1913 issue of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse in Chicago, Illinois.