The Only Reason A Road Is Good

Poems Are Made By Fools Like Me, But Only God Can Make A Tree

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 Fools Like Me, But Only God Can Make A Tree.

The Fairy Poet Takes A Sheet Of Moonbeam, Silver White; His Ink Is Dew From Daisies Sweet, His Pen A Point Of Light.

I Suppose I Passed It A Hundred Times, But I Always Stop For A Minute. And Look At The House, The Tragic House, The House With Nobody In It.

I Think That I Shall Never See A Poem Lovely As A Tree.