"Trees" by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is
present
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at G-d 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 G-d can make a tree.