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Forever Together
There it stands.
That fateful tree.
The tree out in the field,
the one from when I was a child.
The one where I spent endless hours doing nothing.
The tree that I did homework at.
This tree holds so many memories.
Enough to fill it from the top to bottom.
Happy memories, sad memories, angry moments,
All the good times and all the bad.
This is the tree of love.
Where I had my first kiss.
Three times...
This is the tree where I was born.
This is the tree that I will be buried under.
I love this tree.
It loves me.
We know each other so well.
Our hearts are one.
They have been for quite some time,
but Here I come.
Wait no longer lone tree.
I will be with you forever now.
It's been awhile hasn't it?
The police took their sweet time didn't they?
That isn't a factor now.
We are in the process of being united.
It won't be long now.
Forever together.
It won't be long.
Forever.
Forever...
poem by Zac Beemer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The heart of a tree
With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stand in The Rain
She stands bellow the tree,
As she looks out towards the sea.
Her eyes see the blue, yet her mind is lost,
It has left her on it's journey remembering what it lost.
The breeze blows though her dark crimson hair,
And still she does not blink, she only stares.
She stares though nothing only seeing pain,
The pain that has left her standing in the rain.
The rain falls around her on the sea,
Yet still she stands under the tree,
It will not leave her, it will not go,
What she has seen will never go,
She will always remain alone,
She remains in the wind as it moans,
She feels movement of the air,
Yet she does not hear it, she does not fear,
Se fears not the storm, only the pain,
She stands by the side of the sea, stands in the rain.
She stands here, still,
As the pain begons to kill.
She stands and looks past her heart through the pain,
As she stands in the rain.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Big Tree
Big tree
Standing tall
Against setting sun
Majestic silhouette
Geometer's delight
Deep rooted trunk
Branches reaching the sky
Tree depicts life...
Every leaf
Shape so unique
Defining tree family...
Magical colors applied
By Creator's bold strokes
With the brush of seasons
Amazing panorama spreads out
Everywhere and all around.
Flowers spring out
Beauty and fragrance
Magical transformation
Into fruits
Nature transports seeds
To far off lands
It's a new cycle
Trees..forest...life.
Big tree
Stands still
Stands waving
I keep watching
Its far reaching ways
Tree gives us life
Tree gives us shade
To rest and contemplate.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet
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Naturally Superior
An ancient Cypress tree still stands
Beside a ruined monument.
Outlasts the works of human hands.
Nothing man made is permanent.
The tree is self sufficient.
It needs no other maintenance.
Apart from the nourishment.
The soil provides and rains enhance.
The builders of the monument.
Erected by them to impress
Are long since dead that's evident.
Outlasted by this grand Cypress.
The ancient tree's content to be.
Just what it is a simple tree.
Saturday,03 March 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Whispers of the Wind
The Tree stands tall,
Listening to the Wind,
Whispering its cautionary tales.
The Tree stands tall,
Listening to the Wind,
But does not bend, you see?
You are the Wind,
And so I shall be the Tree,
Never fear, dear friend, I shall listen to thee.
Yet I shall not bend,
To your valiant assumptions,
To your hollow allegations.
Impetuous is the Wind with only it's tales to tell me,
But I shall stand Tall,
For I am the Tree.
poem by Zoe L Mathias
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A poem for Wantok about loneliness
Wan
Tok
Wan
Tok
Three
One
Talks
To
A
Tree
One talks to a tree. She has nobody.
The tree talks to her. She has gone crazy.
Isn’t it lonely?
It could be more. It is in fact tragedy.
One two three. One two three.
Want to tree. Want to be a tree.
Want to talk to a tree. Wane to tree.
Wantok talks to a tree. She has nobody.
That could be a phenomenology.
Wantok talks to a tree.
She has nobody.
Birds flew away.
The clouds drift away.
The sun sets on the park
Wantok still stands.
Wantok talks to a tree.
Indeed that is very lonely.
what a tragedy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
And the wind.
Then the Grandfather came strolling up
And He paused, in a moment hush
To reflect to a different year
When He was a Child, and He cried a tear.
And He clasped His hands.
For he was then again a Child
And then again He cried and smiled,
For He remembered His Father and He,
And how together they planted a tree.
And it still stands.
'Thank GOD the tree still stands! '
Cried the Grandfather clasping His hands.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Tree
The weathered tree stripped bare
broken branches hang still
as though to scar its nature
no birds nest here any more
a thing of beauty has passed
into a beauty of another kind
colourless in the backdropp of sky
roots rise and fall into the ground
etchings of forgotten loves
remain as eternal memories
no lovers shade here now
the tree stands as though defiant
unwilling to relinquish to time
that which grew so tall
not dead, perhaps dying
stripped and broken it stands
the weathered tree
a work of life's true beauty
poem by Matthew Holloway
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An umbrella tree
As an umbrella without an umbrella,
A tree stands under the Sun all the day,
Serving you and me as an umbrella.
Giving oxygen and sucking poison,
A tree clears the air for us to breathe.
Offering its all parts to all animals,
Does it demand anything in return?
With no shield to defend with, nor a sword
To offend with, it stands for our mercy.
We are indebted to plants much more than
To animals and humans for our lease.
To kill it is to murder it, a crime.
To be ungrateful to it is a sin.
To dig your own grave is the biggest fun.
Be a tree for each house, planted and grown.
Be a tree for each child, to grow along.
Things made of wood be gone out of demand,
With carpenters rehabilitated.
New roads be cut with pits made for trees.
Like orphanage, stray trees may get a home.
Youngsters, unless you resolve it with faith,
The world to the future will have no mirth.
24.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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The Willow Tree
I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.
I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.
I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.
I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.
poem by Lucy Gocher
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Life goes on
.
A lightning blasted tree still stands.
It bears no hint of greenery
but Mother Nature understands.
The tree provides a haven
for lesser creatures in her care.
A place to nest a place to rest
small creatures living everywhere.
Wherever they find suits them best.
The tree though dead still sustains life
as its substance rots away.
A sanctuary free from strife
the tree providing still today.
Although it’s dead the blasted tree
still serves a purpose faithfully.
17-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With a bottle in his hand
I see a lightning flash
in the night
and it cuts past flats
and it draws a blue white line,
on its way down
to where it hits a tree
in the old park.
When darkness blinds me,
there’s a cigarette that glows red
and a old man sitting on a bench.
He protests with a bottle in his hand:
“Lord, take your thunder.
Not even God, can stop Kerneels Bester
to take a drink.”
The old man laughs as if mad
and takes a long drink,
before he presses the bottle
into the air.
With the bottle above his head
the man stands against the weather
and like that he still stands,
when the first big drops begin to fall
and I hear another thunder roll.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Married to a Tree
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as coarse
As thou, the bark
That stands still
While my bleeding heart
Doth dry up on your floors
I am married to a tree
Who sways to and fro carelessly
Who is helpless at the woes
Of the wind that causes much a storm
And leaves its menacing trail
For I am married to a tree
With grooves and dents
That frown with age
As I run my fingers down the seams
And am turned off by your despair
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as damp
Like the leaves that blossom in spring
And die in the autumn, so sad
For I hope that winter will be forgiving
I am married to a tree
But the reason that I wait
Is for the birds that sing and chirp
And compliment the rays
For it is worth my time
I am married to a tree
As condemning as I may be
And selfish that I may seem
For I should commend thee
As you are as nurturing as she.
poem by Antoine La Najja
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Oh unchanging tree
Such a beautiful thing Is a tree.
In summer, in winter, in spring, in fall
the beauty of a tree, doesn't change at all
The leaves fall to the ground
all the richest beautiful color
can be found
The snow falls
but it doesn't hurt the tree,
it just lays on it's branches
like frosting on a cake
Then it gets warm, the snow melts.
Say goodbye to to winter, say hello to sping.
New life is such a beautiful thing
But so is the tree, the beautiful mighty tree.
That stands alone as the seasons pass
as when you were old or just a lass.
A tree must have a heart, because when it falls to the ground.
No Joy can be found..
So when you see a tree say hello, they can get lonely you know.
Tell them a story, tell them a poem, they will listen.
This I know
poem by Summer Song
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An Old Tree
An old tree stands by the edge of a cliff,
awaiting, awaiting the waters to lift.
The waves he cherishes like God's gift,
but through weeds and mountains he must first sift.
Lonely, pleading like a beggar,
he looks to the sea and wishes to tell her
to raise her waters with a good will,
so he could stand alone in the Home of Thrill.
An old tree stands alone on a hill,
forsaken and abandoned, he slowly dies,
as he watches the world's ages fall into a ghyll,
he sets his heart to where the sea-nymph cries.
In mimicry of the sea-nymph's tears,
he sends his roots cascading down the hills
like a waterfall of knowledge collected through the years.
What a sight to see! The spirit with sadness it fills.
An old tree once stood by the edge of a cliff,
waiting for some water to rise.
Now he's fallen, eaten by flies,
as he lays on the rocks, yet nobody cries.
What a life to have lived,
sad and alone.
As he dies, he knows he won't be missed.
No one grieves him but them he'll forgive,
even if they throw him like broken bones.
Yet even at death's gate his wish is dismissed.
His grave stands above the sea,
ever close to the waters free.
Death is cruel and ignores the plea,
And so water never reached by old friend the tree.
poem by Soren Valentine
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The Palm And The Pine
From the German of Heine.
In the far North stands a Pine-tree, lone,
Upon a wintry height;
It sleeps: around it snows have thrown
A covering of white.
It dreams forever of a Palm
That, far i' the Morning-land,
Stands silent in a most sad calm
Midst of the burning sand.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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