I think that I shell 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;
UponWhose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately liver with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make tree.- Joyce Kilmer
The tree we planted
is a
American Liberty Elm