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Trees (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 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 (1886–1918) was an American writer and poet of Irish stock. He was a prolific poet whose works celebrated the common beauty of the natural world as well as his Catholic faith. Critics have sometimes disparaged his work as being too traditional, simple and overly sentimental. His poem, Easter 1916, is remembered in Ireland at this time of year. It opens with W.B.Yeats' words:

"Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave."


the rest stops on the New jersey Turnpike are named for famous Jerseyians
one is named for Kilmer

everyone knows that poem so it is often used for parody
but that means he is famous here
I have always loved this poem. And trees! :)