The Magnolia Tree

Half an hour by car.
Driving slowly into town.
Past a log cabin in the park.

We knew the house by the magnolia.
A tree in the front yard.
It shaded the front room windows.

Pink in bloom.
Large flowers.
A place of quiet comfort.

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Trees

I 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.

 -- Joyce Kilmer

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Who was Joyce Kilmer - link to wikipedia