En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Interchange

The oriole sang in the apple-tree;
The sick girl lay on her bed, and heard
The tremulous note of the glad wild bird;
And, "Ah!" she sighed, "to share with thee
Life's rapture exquisite and strong:
Its hope, its eager energy,
Its fragrance and its song!"

The oriole swayed in the apple-tree,
And he sang: "I will build, with my love, a nest,
Fine as e'er welcomed a birdling guest:
Like a pendent blossom, secure yet free,
It shall hang from the bough above me there,
Bright, bright with the gold that is combed for me
From the sick girl's auburn hair!"

Then he built the nest in the apple-tree;
And, burnished over, a ball of light,
It gleamed and shone in the sick girl's sight,
And she gazed upon it wonderingly:
But when the bird had forever flown,
They brought the nest from the apple-tree
To the bed where she lay alone.

"O builder of this mystery!"—
The wide and wistful eyes grew dim,
And the soul of the sick girl followed him—
"Dear bird! I have had part, through thee,
In the life for which I long and long:
Have shared its hope, its energy,
Its rapture and its song!"

poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The boy and the apple tree

Once there was a boy who used to play under an apple tree
He played so happily that it was a joy to see
As he grew old, he got bore of playing alone
Toys and gadgets he desired to be his own

So, under the apple tree the boy muttered
‘Tree can you give me toys I now desire? ’
‘Toys I don’t have, my boy, ’ the tree replied
‘But my fruits you can sell to get your toys.’

So the boy took the fruits and went away
The tree waited for his return day after day
Many years had passed and the boy got older
He married a girl to be his wife and lover

The adult boy now needing a new house for his family
Went to the tree and asked for its advice earnestly
The tree glad to see him once again said
‘My branches will be sufficient to make your nest.’

To these words the adult boy listened
And took all the branches away with him
With these he constructed a house for his family
Where he lived for several years happily

One day, the boy now a fully mature adult thought
‘It will be wise to travel around and sail the sea across’
So, he went to the now old apple tree and asked
‘Tree, can you tell me, a boat, where I can get? ’

The tree which was happy to see him again sighed and said
‘Though I am old, my stem you may take if you want’
On hearing this, the guy cut the tree down
And made a large boat, which was fine and strong

Many years had passed and the guy now became an old man
Tired from his adventures across the sea and land
He went and saw the apple tree once again
Which was now but a stump nobody would want

The old stump on seeing the old man cried
‘My old boy what can I do for you this time’
The old man on hearing this softly replied
‘I just want to lean against you till the end of my life.’

poem by Henry Chen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird's Happiness

A cherry hello to you
So the bird said to me
I asked him why he was happy
As he was sitting in a tree

I looked at him in the tree
And wondered what he was doing
Then he said that he saw a worm
And it was what he was pursuing

So we should take lessons
From the bird in the tree
Ashe was getting ready to build a nest
As he had use to be

Then he returned to his nest
As happy as could be
He sang and sang
As he was in the tree.

poem by Dolores Mahan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Tree

When spring comes round, our apple tree
Is very full of flowers,
And when a bird sits on a branch
The petals fall in showers.

When summer comes, our apple tree
Is very full of green,
And everywhere you look in it
There is a leafy screen.

When autumn comes, our apple tree
Is full of things to eat.
The apples hang from every branch
To tumble at our feet.

When winter comes, our apple tree
Is full of snow and ice
And rabbits come to visit it...
We think our tree is nice.

poem by Marchette Chute
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird and flower upon the tree

A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.

'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'

'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'

On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree

Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
I just got word from a guy who heard
From the guy next door to me
The girl he met just loved to pet
And fits you to a "T"
So don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't give out with those lips of yours
To anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Watch the girls on the foreign shores
You'll have to report to me
When you come marching home
You're on your own
When there is no phone and I can't keep tab on you
Be fair to me I'll garuantee
This is one thing that I'll do
I won't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but you
'til you come marching home
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
I know the apple tree
Is reserved for you and me
And I'll be true
'til you come marching home

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice

One feather is a bird,
I claim; one tree, a wood;
In her low voice I heard
More than a mortal should;
And so I stood apart,
Hidden in my own heart.

And yet I roamed out where
Those notes went, like the bird,
Whose thin song hung in air,
Diminished, yet still heard:
I lived with open sound,
Aloft, and on the ground.

That ghost was my own choice,
The shy cerulean bird;
It sang with her true voice,
And it was I who heard
A slight voice reply;
I heard; and only I.

Desire exults the ear:
Bird, girl, and ghostly tree,
The earth, the solid air--
Their slow song sang in me;
The long noon pulsed away,
Like any summer day.

poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Bird

Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weary

Aw, I'm sick o' the whole darn human race,
An' I'm sick o' this mundane ball;
I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
An' his works an' talk an' all;
I'm sick o' the silly sounds I hear,
I'm sick o' the sights I see;
Ole Omar K. he knew good cheer,
An' it's much the same with me.

Gimme a bit o' a bough to sit
Beneath, an' a book of rhyme,
An' a cuddlemsome girl that sings a bit,
But don't sing all the time:
That's all I ask, an' it's only just;
For it's all that I hold dear
A bough an' a book an' a girl an' a crust;
That, an' a jug o' beer.

Then I'll cuddle me girl an' I'll quaff me ale
As we sit on the leafy floor;
An' when the book an' the beer jug fail,
I'll cuddle me girl some more.
For jugs give out an' books get slow.
But you can take my tip for square
Tho' the bough an' the book an' the beer jug go,
The girl, she's always there.

For I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
An' the world's a sight too slow;
An' I'm sick o' tryin' to go the pace,
When there ain't no pace to go;
I'm sick o' the 'gilded halls of vice,'
An' I'm sick o' the 'sainted shrine,'
I'm sick o' me own an' me friends' advice,
An' the gold that won't be mine.

I'm sick o' the sound o' me fellow's voice,
I'm sick o' his schemes an' shams;
O' trying to choose when there ain't no choice,
An' of damin' several dams;
So, gimme a girl that ain't too slow,
You can keep your book of rhyme,
An' you bough an' bread an' your beer. Wot O!
An' I'll cuddle her all the time.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I woke up to a lullaby

I woke up to a lullaby
The birds sang a song for me
They sang their hearts out all the while
Dancing on the maple tree

Each bird sang a different song
That melted into one
A song full of promises
For the day that’s just begun

They sang of sorrow
Of happiness and mirth
The sang of marriage
And of birth

They sang of people laughing
And of them crying
They sang of sickness
They sang of dying

This little song
They sang for me
Made me think
Made me free

poem by Sami Girl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set Free

I remember once when your soul was clean
And also the time when that apple was green
The apple it grew from the tree upon its limb
And we matured from children, and grew into women and men
What happened to us then, was truly unforeseen.

I remember that apple, and it I would not pick
Though it was not deliberate or had it been a trick
So it grew all alone and then on the limb it rotted
From age and negligence it was also spotted
Now that apple disagreed with my body's politic.

I read and then I heard stories all about you
Sadly none were lies as they all were on the venue
We had been used and cheated as your soul had waited
Seems that was the purpose, that you were created
Never would I want to act or to become like you.

I read in the news that you had died
My reaction to that news I could not hide
As I remembered that rotten apple falling from the tree
Then it hit the ground, its essence was set free
So for you or the apple, I had not cried.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple Seed

Spring is here
love it so dear.
Being an apple seed,
and doing my good deed.

Keeping the doctor away,
for many years this tree will stay.
Just waiting for picking time
and watching workers as they climb.

Seed to apple so sweet
working so hard what a feat.
Apple cider to apple pie,
selling apples for people to buy.

Being an apple seed
and doing my good deed.
Being picked off this tree
from this place I will flee.

wrote 4-30-07

poem by Jim Foulk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Apple, Red Apple

Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer

Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole

Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?

Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste

Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple

poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Ballad of Dreamland

I hid my heart in a nest of roses,
Out of the sun's way, hidden apart;
In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is,
Under the roses I hid my heart.
Why would it sleep not? why should it start,
When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?
What made sleep flutter his wings and part?
Only the song of a secret bird.

Lie still, I said, for the wind's wing closes,
And mild leaves muffle the keen sun's dart;
Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes,
And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art.
Does a thought in thee still as a thorn's wound smart?
Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred?
What bids the lips of thy sleep dispart?
Only the song of a secret bird.

The green land's name that a charm encloses,
It never was writ in the traveller's chart,
And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is,
It never was sold in the merchant's mart.
The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart,
And sleep's are the tunes in its tree-tops heard;
No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart,
Only the song of a secret bird.

ENVOI

In the world of dreams I have chosen my part,
To sleep for a season and hear no word
Of true love's truth or of light love's art,
Only the song of a secret bird.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple Bush

October in a land that's in my back yard
There's a people who succeed they don't try hard
Well, they've found a way to live with ease
Eating from the bush instead of the tree
Apple bush, apple tree
Back to eternity
Find you a path and you buy with a car
Apple bush, apple tree
Back to eternity
Cut you a path with a chance may might fall
Move over in a corner, standing there
Tell my house they have to see it again
But my house doesn't worry it's got a path of it's own
And a bush, and a tree
Gotta leave it alone
Apple Bush, apple tree
Back to eternity
Find you a path and you buy with a car
Apple bush, apple tree
Back to eternity
Cut you a path with a chance may might fall
Someday like my house you're going to chose too
If you cut this new path well the old one will do
If you live with the people who live with ease
The red apple bush, the blue apple tree

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree

My life is a tree,
Yoke-fellow of the earth;
Pledged,
By roots too deep for remembrance,
To stand hard against the storm,
To fill by Place.
(But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild
bird singing:
Wind-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no
mortal nest.)

poem by Karle Wilson Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kriss Kringle

Just as the moon was fading
Amid her misty rings,
And every stocking was stuffed
With childhood’s precious things,

Old Kriss Kringle looked around,
And saw on the elm-tree bough,
High hung, an oriole’s nest,
Lonely and empty now.

“Quite a stocking,” he laughed,
“Hung up there on a tree!
I didn’t suppose the birds
Expected a present from me!”

Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves
A joke as well as the best,
Dropped a handful of snowflakes
Into the oriole’s empty nest.

poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The girl I used to be

My tree will know it all
the tree of my childhood
with the endless branches
and the many whispers

My tree remembers
the girl with the wind in her hair
the girl with the crazy laughter
the girl with the fear of living
the girl I used to be
before

In my tree
everything I want to be
will be

In my tree
I can see the world
but no one can see me

My tree remembers me
the girl I used to be
before

poem by Pia Andersson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple in a tree

Love is hard i see
Like an apple in a tree
Not ready to be picked
It may make you sick
Sometimes we have to let it be
Time can be the key
Let it ripen
Just wait and see
Let it soften
Before you get on your knee
Take your time
Just move with ease
Like an apple in a tree
Some are rotten
Just let them be
Some are red
Wait for the right word to be said
Some are green
Sometimes they can be mean
Some are yellow
Just try to stay mellow
I know you feel like jello
When you find the right one
So juicy and sweet
Then love becomes a treat
And this my friend is pretty neat

poem by Joseph Whelan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspiration from Newton's law....

The story
goes like this…
There is an apple, and
there is a tree. “The apple, ” it
is said, “does not fall far from the tree.”
So why is it…when I look up at the tree,
that has shaded and sheltered me;
Why don’t I see apples?
When
I look
up,
I
see
instead,
a glorious nut tree.

poem by Mahfooz Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girl, Ya Just So Fine

Girl, ya just so fine.

Mmm, Girl, I think about you all the time.

Mmm, Girl, ya always on my mind.

Cuz, Girl, ya just so fine.

Girl, ya just so fine.

Mmm, Girl, I take time to rhyme.

Mmm, Girl, I want ya to be mine.

Cuz, Girl, ya just so fine.

Mmm, Girl, ya just so fine.

Mmm, Girl, it is the time.

Mmm, Girl, to let love shine.

Cuz, Girl, ya just so fine.

Authors Note: I bet your gettin sick of authors notes aren't you? ? hahahaha well here it is comment plz! !

poem by Abdul Malik Habibalah Wajid Hunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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