Trees

TREES

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
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 people like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer 1886-1918

Tornado Weather

It's been a day filled with thunderstorms, winds, and tornadoes dancing all around.
The rain was needed, the other elements we can do without.
This is our first rain of the month, the sticky, yellow pollen now washed clean from everything it befelled.

The first of the trees were planted in the garden, the rest will have to wait their turn, until the storm clouds play themselves out.

I puddle up the neighborhood
I make the postman mad
I wake the worm and spank the frog
Sleeping on his lily pad
And when the tulips in their beds
Nod happily, it's true,
I shake the petals of their hands
And say, How do you dew?

Tennessee In Bloom