Many years before I started to write poetry I was browsing in an antique shop and came across a picture of a road through a forest with Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” printed below it. Being fond of them myself, I bought it. As I contemplated starting a blog I got stuck on what to name it, and remembered this poem. I do not use the term “fools” derogatorily (although I do have a bad habit of belittling myself), but rather in the sense of man’s work as compared to God’s. I am in awe of the natural world around me and the many ways it reflects His attributes. Here’s his poem:

TREES

by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

• 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.