Poems as Instruments of Adoration

I did not love poems until I started memorizing them with my children. We especially like really long poems that tell a story and poems about nature. Now those children's poems help me express my unpoetic self when I behold God's glory in creation: when I see a majestic tree, when it rains, when it is cold outside....Poets have that gift to be moved and find words to help others to be moved.
Here are some of my favorites:

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 bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

I SAW GOD WASH THE WORLD

By William Stidger

I saw God wash the world last night
With His sweet showers on high;
And then when morning came
I saw him hang it out to dry.

He washed each slender blade of grass
And every trembling tree;
He flung his showers against the hills
And swept the rolling sea.

The white rose is a deeper white;
The red, a richer red
Since Gold washed every fragrant face
And put them all to bed.

There's not a bird, there's not a bee
That wings along the way,
But is a cleaner bird and bee
Than it was yesterday. 

I saw God wash the world last night;
Ah, would He had washed me
As clean of all my dust and dirt
As that old white birch tree!

Who Loves The Rain 

By Frances Shaw     

WHO loves the rain   And loves his home, And looks on life with quiet eyes,   Him will I follow through the storm;   And at his hearth-fire keep me warm;          Nor hell nor heaven shall that soul surprise,   Who loves the rain,   And loves his home, And looks on life with quiet eyes. The Mist and All by Dixie Wilson I like the fall The mist and all I like the night owl’s lonely call And wailing sound Of wind around I like the gray November day And dead, bare boughs that coldly sway Against my pane I like the rain I like to sit And laugh at it And tend my cozy fire a bit I like the fall The mist and all