In the bleak mid winter…

Blogger (silent) Poetry Reading is happening. Go see Grace’s Poppies and get your poems posted. If you post – please leave a comment for her (and me – I’d like to read your poetry as well!).

Here are my contributions… these were my Grandfather’s favorite poems. I had them memorized at a very young age.

Fog: Carl Sandburg 1878-1967

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Trees: Joyce Kilmer 1886-1918

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely 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.

I leave you in the quiet silence of a snowy Friday afternoon…

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4 thoughts on “In the bleak mid winter…

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