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I think I’ve established in past posts here that I’m an unabashed tree hugger, which is why I love this little poem, “The Greatest Tree.”

Among its burdened boughs … all white with snow
The stars would seem to twinkle, and to glow;
And at its top …. so lovely in the night,
A great and brilliant star gave out its light.

I’m pairing it with this poem by Robert Frost, one of the Christmas poems I mentioned the other day: “Christmas Trees.” In this short narrative, the country poet describes a city visitor who wants to buy a thousand Christmas trees,

My woods — the young fir balsams like a place
Where houses all are churches and have spires.

(I myself cannot bear to cut down a tree for Christmas… or ever!)

12, 11, 10, 9

frost trail img_src

The Robert Frost Trail in North Bennington, Bennington and Shaftsbury, Vermont. Photo from http://northbennington.org/frost.html.