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.
2 comments:
Pretty...I appreciate the relaxing photo. Ugh I'm in dry Colorado- I would love to see trees like that!
Thank you! That's a friend's place on Prudence Island in RI ... it is, indeed, lovely.
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