Barack Obama

Christmas trees are my favorites, in the wild and in forests. The way they grow reminds me of this:

TREES by Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

I think that I shall 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; 
  

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.