I think that i shall never see,
a poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whos hungry mouth is prest
against the earth's sweet flowing chest.
A tree that looks all day to sun
and lifts its leafy arms to dun.
A tree that may in summer wear
a nest of robins in its hair.
Upon whose bosom snow has lain.
Wo intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me
but only nature can make a tree!