Tribute to Trees

I stand by the windows watching natures winter wrath. 

Such chaos in the midst of fierce bitter cold winds
slapping trees from side to side;
slashing leaves before they hit the ground;
swallowing all colors remaining in the mums.
I imagine the metaphoric words from Robert Frost
'nothing gold can stay,' and Kilmer's poem of "A tree that looks at God all day, and lifts her leafy arms to pray. 
I am thankful that poets write the words to describe the feelings and pictures that I experience on this dismal fall to winter day. 

I think I shall never see

a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet 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             in 1913

 NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY   by Robert Frost in 1923 

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day,

Nothing gold can stay.