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Trees - Sing Along MIDI Song
Poem by Joyce Kilmer - Music by Oscar Rasbach, 1922



A Poem Lovely as 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.
---by Joyce Kilmer


 The Australian Gumnut ...
from the Eucalyptus gum tree that provides many uses,
including eucalyptus oil for healing

Also, the fir tree without which Christmas
                                               would not be Christmas!



 

And what about the oft mentioned "Village Smithy" and the many
songs that include a tree.

 The Village Blacksmith
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 18071882

Under a spreading chestnut tree, the village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he, with large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms are strong as iron bands

His hair is crisp, and black, and long, his face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat, he earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face, for he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night, you can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear his bellows blow; with measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell, when the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school, look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge, and hear the bellows roar,
And watch the burning sparks that fly like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach, he hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir and it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice, singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more, how in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes a tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, for the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped each burning deed and thought!




Ponder on This!

Today's mighty Oak is just yesterday's acorn which "held it's ground"




All I need to know about life ... I learned from trees!


It's important to have roots.
In today's complex world, it pays to branch out.
Don't pine away over old flames.
If you really believe in something, don't be afraid to go out on a limb.
Be flexible so you don't break when a harsh wind blows.
Sometimes you have to shed your old bark in order to grow.
If you want to maintain accurate records, keep a log.
To be politically correct, don't wear firs.
Grow where you're planted.
It's perfectly okay to be a late bloomer.
Avoid people who would like to cut you down.

Get all spruced up when you have a hot date.


All I need to know about life ... I learned from trees!

It's important to have roots.
In today's complex world, it pays to branch out.
Don't pine away over old flames.
If you really believe in something, don't be afraid to go out on a limb.
Be flexible so you don't break when a harsh wind blows.
Sometimes you have to shed your old bark in order to grow.
If you want to maintain accurate records, keep a log.
To be politically correct, don't wear firs.
Grow where you're planted.
It's perfectly okay to be a late bloomer.
Avoid people who would like to cut you down.

Get all spruced up when you have a hot date.


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 Created by L. Seymour March 2001