“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 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 whose actual name was Alfred Joyce Kilmer. He was killed at a battle in July 1918; he was just 31 years old.



  1. Hi Marti,
    Trees, one of the first poems that I had to memorize in grade school.
    I am a tree hugging type gal. I always will be, however, I do get tired of the tree pollen in the Spring. I am allergic.
    I am smiling to myself as I type this comment. Tree, another one of God’s many gifts!


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