I am the beneficiary of many timeless and enduring gifts from my beloved grandmother, Lou Lou, not the least of which is a deep appreciation for poetry. As grandchildren we learned of the beauty and power of rhyme at her knee as she taught us poems she had committed to memory. The lovely images above call to mind one of her all-time favorites, Joyce Kilmer's Trees. When I recited this work at her funeral, I looked out in the audience to see my sisters, cousins, and other family members whispering the words with me. She had taught us every one.
|I THINK that I shall never see|
|A poem 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,||5|
|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.||10|
|Poems are made by fools like me,|
|But only God can make a tree.|
Lou Lou, this one's for you...