By Howard B. Owens Aug 5, 2011, 12:53am Like the headline reads, a tree in a cornfield on Phelps Road, Indian Falls. photos pembroke indian falls Ricky G. Hale I think that I shall never I think that I shall never see A poem lovly as a tree. 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 1886-1918 Log in or register to post comments Aug 6, 2011, 11:53am Permalink Billie Owens Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed reading that. Log in or register to post comments Aug 6, 2011, 12:24pm Permalink
Ricky G. Hale I think that I shall never I think that I shall never see A poem lovly as a tree. 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 1886-1918 Log in or register to post comments Aug 6, 2011, 11:53am Permalink
Billie Owens Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed reading that. Log in or register to post comments Aug 6, 2011, 12:24pm Permalink
I think that I shall never
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovly as a tree.
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
1886-1918
Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed
Thanks, Ricky. I enjoyed reading that.