Tree Plantation

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 wear in summer

A beautiful nest of robin in her hair,

Upon whose bosom in winter snow is lain

and in monsoon it intimately feels the rain,

Poems are made by a fool like me

But a tree is created by The God  only.

F.A.