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.
This grove is dedicated in loving memory to our dearly departed loved ones. It broke our hearts to lose you but you didn't go alone, for part of us went with you, the day god called you home. Rest peacefully in god's garden until we meet again and visit us often in our dreams to ease our grief and pain. X
Charles Alexander Rae