marjorie farmer originally shared to poets of g exlib (Discussion):

I would like to share the most memorable poem I ever heard with all here at poets of g exlib:

Trees       by:  Joyce Kilmer

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,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose ***** snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

She woke, shivering in the dark of night
Wary of the long shadows on the wall
Flicking on the pink hued tulip nightlight
To forget the monster with one eyeball
The giant teddy bear with sharpened claws
The troll that sneered and chased her down the street
The King Kong turtle with quick snapping jaws
The freckled boy who ate her ice-cream treat
She runs down the cold hall to Mommy’s room
She turns the **** and tiptoes to her bed
“I had a nightmare,” the little girl croons.
“Shhh, it was only a dream,” Mommy said
She tucks her in and rocks her back to sleep
Years later she wakes alone, cold and naked
Her dreams a waking truth; the woman weeps
Resenting all the precious years wasted
From room to room she walks the barren halls
There is no one. Only an empty house
With silent photos hanging on the walls

Sit, fast.
Lie down if you find privacy.
It's a wave, cresting over you,
And you wonder,
Should I continue breathing?
Gulp, and let the wash begin.
Look to the feet first,
And calm your soles:
Work the legs,
Think outside the head,
But stay down -
You'll walk again,
And wait, and forget,
Then forgive yourself.

What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow:
What are brief? today and tomorrow:
What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth:
What are deep ? the ocean and truth.

We speak the same tongue.
I have never seen eyes move the way yours does
they dance
almost as well as you do.
With every step, every flick of your wrist, you
tear through barriers with your eyes and that corner of your mouth that
overflows with joy everlasting.

I have slowly but surely fallen in love with poetry.

I love the truth of the raw, cutting words that I can write.
I love the ability of using words to bleed, to express, to encapsulate a moment.
I love the feeling of release, relief and self-happiness that it brings me.
I love the peace of mind.
Poetry soothes my soul, allows me to breathe, allows my mind to wander for a brief period of time.
It allows me to think, to be more than myself, to say exactly how I feel and  not feel embarrassed or ashamed.
I love the voices in my head when I think deeply. I love the way my hand moves effortlessly because the words come so quickly.
I love reading poetry. It truly fascinates me, the way another's mind works and thinks. It captivates me when I can feel their emotions through their words.

I find myself when I write poems. I can paint my mind in writing, and create masterpieces.
I can see life a little clearer and a little brighter.

Fall in love with words.
Fall in love with poetry.

Sometimes I wonder what freedom feels like.
What fresh air feels like in my lungs.
What a "good day" truly feels like.

But then sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not have fears.*
To not be cripppled by anxiety over the thought of being around people.
To not have thoughts running marathons in my head.

And then sometimes I wonder what life would be like without the pain of depression.
What it feels like to be okay.
**What normal feels like.