I love the poem Trees, by Joyce Kilmer. This picture was taken last year when we visited Colorado and drove past my childhood home. The tree sitting out by the road was where I would go to sit and read for hours perched on a certain branch that was considered mine. You can see it on the far left of the picture.
I was amazed to see the tree still thriving after all these years. To be honest it looks the same in height. The branches look bigger but in all it is just as I remember.
I wanted to go up, but my 58 year old body would certainly protest so I simply enjoyed the memories.
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.