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Trees - Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
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.
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Категория: Литература | Добавил: jivi (26.08.2009) | Автор: Joyce Kilmer
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