(I have already written about my husband and the beginning of our relationship a couple of time, so I went back and took his April 14 Weekly Writing Challenge.)

This week, we invite you to write a post — in verse or in prose — inspired by poetry.

TREES

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest (sic)
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.

Joyce Kilmer (1886–1918) obviously had a similar appreciation for nature that I have. I look outside, particularly at this time of the year and am stopped in my tracks by the beauty around me.

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Fluttering cherry blossoms brush my face
Feeling like the breath of God
Their delicacy like a fine silk lace,
By their beauty I am awed.

Daffodils beckon like silent trumpets
Calling me to linger on
Watching yellow heads turn like a compass
Following the morning sun.

Blue violets among the green grass lie,
Little stars upon the ground,
Echoing the stars in the evening sky
Heaven’s gifts are all around.

In all God’s creation, nothing is more perfectly and well-designed as in nature. The seasons, the pure colors, the patterns, the beauty. There is a divine plan for it all, and for the universe which poses more questions than we can answers.

The

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