This poem was one I remember reading as a child. I found out recently that it was written by the grandfather of my son Josh's art teacher, Miriam Kilmer, whose family corresponded with C. S. Lewis....
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.
By Sergeant Joyce Kilmer
165th Infantry (69th New York), A.E.F.
Born December 6, 1886;
Killed in action near Ourcy, July 30, 1918
(From Cook, Roy J., compiler, One Hundred and One Famous Poems, Chicago: Reilly & Lee Publishers, 1958)