I think that I shall never see
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.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Joyce Kilmer
One of my favorite grade school activities was memorizing and reciting poetry. It offered a glimmer of a wider world, something to reach for. There doesn't seem to be much time or interest in such things these days and that makes me sad.
2 comments:
When I was a kid my mother paid us a quarter for every poem we memorized: "Under the spreading chestnut tree a village smithy stands", was one of my finest accomplishments.
When I lived with my grandparents, they encouraged me to memorize poems. (As did my teachers.) It seemed less of a priority in later years.
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