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My Tree Of Life
Once a seedling
Well nourished and fed,
Now a giant elm
In my garden bed.
I've sheltered this tree
From wind and rain,
Watched it grow,
And kept it from pain.
This great big elm,
So important to my life,
Signifies my past;
It symbolizes my strife.
When I grow weary
Of dealing with my pain,
I turn to my tree
Realizing I have much to gain.
My tree has scars
And it's bark grows rough,
But day after day
It's just never enough.
You see at my tree
Life throws rain,
And at my tree,
Life throws pain.
It's these things though,
My tree needs to live.
For, it's these hardships
Life has to give.
So just like my tree,
I'll learn to move on.
I'll soak up the storms
Until I'm gone.
poem by Candika Niada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
Song of the Little White Girl
Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, what is the matter?
Why are you shaking so? Why do you chatter?
Because it is just a white baby you see,
And it's the black ones you like, cabbage tree?
Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, you're a strange fellow
With your green hair and your legs browny-yellow.
Wouldn't you like to have curls, dear, like me?
What! No one to make them? O poor cabbage tree!
Never mind, cabbage tree, when I am taller,
And if you grow, please, a little bit smaller,
I shall be able by that time, bay be,
To make you the loveliest curls, cabbage tree.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pain Of Moving On
A tree looked up to one star and that one alone,
It didn't see any other stars but that one.
It was its bestfriend.
Its happiness.
Its everything.
The tree continued to grow taller.
Hoping, wishing that his height would bring him and the star closer.
Instead the taller the tree grew the further the star got.
The star tempted the tree on some nights, letting its star shine so bright...
so that it seemed closer.
Then it really was.
But the star just wanted to see its beautiful reflection on the tree.
Not to spend time with it.
And the tree watched.
Cried.
Hated.
As he watched the star shine for another tree and forget about him.
Wasted his time.
Cared too much.
For a star he had known all his life,
He watched put others before him.
The sadness was too much to bear.
So it wouldn't grow and was cut down
Down.
Down.
Down.
The star continued to move
Up.
Didn't even stop and think.
About what it had done.
poem by Aurelia Ivy
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O little plum tree in the garden, you're
O little plum tree in the garden, you're
Aflower again,
With memories of a million springs and my
Brief years of pain.
O little tree, you have the power to find
Your youth again,
Grow young, while I grow old in tenderness
And wise in pain.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Knowing Of A Tree
It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Team efforts
Every seed that comes off a tree
Does not grow to a tree.
The one that grows to a tree
Depends on various factors
That have come in its fevour.
Don’t boast your glory.
14.08.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pohutakawa
I'm a pohutakawa seed
Plant me in the ground and water me
Plenty of sunshine is what I need
And guess what you will see
Out will come a tiny twig
And it will continue to grow so big
Beutiful flowers of phero
Creates a tree of pheroa
Pohutakawa tree, pohutakawa tree
New Zealands christmas tree
You fill my heart, with Aroha
Create a tree of pheroa
poem by Bookworms Rock
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Agamede's Song
Grow, grow, thou little tree,
His body at the roots of thee;
Since last year's loveliness in death
The living beauty nourisheth.
Bloom, bloom, thou little tree,
Thy roots around the heart of me;
Thou canst not blow too white and fair
From all the sweetness hidden there.
Die, die, thou little tree,
And be as all sweet things must be;
Deep where thy petals drift I, too,
Would rest the changing seasons through.
poem by Arthur Upson
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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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I Grow Old
I grow old I should feel the cold
I grow old I should have grey hair
I grow old I should sit and stare
I grow old I should have false teeth
I grow old I should have poor sight
I grow old I should forget to write
I grow old I should have aches and pains
I grow old I should 'stroll down memory lane'
I grow old I should walk with a stick
But as I grow old I KICK ASS!
And that's about it!
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lenten Flowers
Primrose, anemone, bluebell, moss
Grow in the Kingdom of the Cross
And the ash-tree's purple bud
Dresses the spear that sheds his blood.
With the thorns that pierce his brow
Soft encircling petals grow
For in each flower the secret lies
Of the tree that crucifies.
Garden by the water clear
All must die who enter here!
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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The big tree
Lets make a tree house for ourselves,
I can remember the words of my love,
Piling up fine wood with your soft hands,
I can see the visions of my love, .
I remember the hanging ropes,
Climbing the tree and tightening them,
It was a tree that we made our tree,
Tears role down my cheeks standing before it,
The footprints of a lost lover I see, .
Your imprints brings sorrow to me,
The tree brings me memories
The swings we made there my love,
Playing while hoping for tomorrow,
Remember the marriage we planned,
The wedding we admired,
And children we debated about,
You said three and i said two,
It was under the tree,
And ended under the tree,
Death took you by surprise,
My hopes so long gone,
My wishes drained into mystry,
Im all alone, with the tree, our tree
You have gone my love,
I wanted to marry you,
I wanted us to grow together,
With our tree, the big tree,
The swings are empty,
The tree house so desolate,
Im missing you.......
This tree shall be symbolic to us,
Us, , , the us that will never be,
As seasons shall surely change and pass,
The tree shall die also,
And will be left all alone, ,
Of course, in solitude
Im missing you
poem by Sir Gaylord Munemo
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The Unknown Country
WHERE is the unknown country?'
I whispered sad and slow,--
'The strange and awful country
To which I soon must go, must go,
To which I soon must go?'
Out of the unknown country
A voice sang soft and low:--
'O pleasant is that country
And sweet it is to go, to go,
And sweet it is to go.
'Along the shining country
The peaceful rivers flow:
And in that wondrous country
The tree of life does grow, does grow,
The tree of life does grow.'
Ah, then into that country
Of which I nothing know,
The everlasting country,
With willing heart I go, I go,
With willing heart I go.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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A Girl
The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast -
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.
poem by Ezra Pound
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If It Isn't What It Should Be
When a tree begins to grow...
Is it nurtured to seek approval?
Does it do it to get that from other trees?
Or does it just grow to be what it is?
To grow to be what it is freely,
With only God to please.
And if it isn't what it should be...
What and who is there to correct it?
What recommends or suggests to it what it must do...
To become what it is and comfort it too?
And if it isn't growing in faith...
Does God choose to get moody,
And brood?
Observing this with attitude?
Insisting Mother Nature refuse it,
Any assistence on a 'menu'...
Kept constantly reviewed.
When a tree begins to grow...
And decides not to produce branches.
Or allow a leaf or pine needles to bloom...
What affect would that have on other trees observing?
Will they begin to feel,
Maybe that tree is not deserving?
Will they make attempts to move away from it?
Or will they just let it sit...
Doing nothing to fulfill its purpose?
As the sky beckons,
To give it space and room.
Will the other trees observing this...
Watch another tree rot,
To not exist?
How long will a forest of trees,
Put up with it?
And what about the purpose that tree has here on Earth?
Who and what becomes affected...
When that tree does not fulfill its worth from birth?
A connection becomes neglected.
And the affects from that can be expected to reflect.
Somewhere in time to be ultimately discovered.
Uncovering what has been revealed,
To stir up some kind of backlash in protest.
However...
Shouldn't something about this process...
Make 'something' upset,
And furious about the lack of respect shown?
Or,
Does it condone it like us humans do?
By just looking away...
Only to complain about the shame of it all.
Or...
Does it one day become furious?
Like Mother Nature is showing now...
By unleashing Her attention grabbing disgust,
Unexpectedly disrupting as She fusses...
With all of us!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Around the Acacia Tree
Vertical and pinnate, green leaves
And small flowers of yellow grow
Around the Acacia Tree.
Sun light drapes and the ground receives
The curtain's folding golden glow
Around the Acacia Tree.
The incense scent in the air weaves
The knitted root tangles below
Around the Acacia Tree.
Yet, now, from the bark, cloudy smoke
Lifts like a slumbering ghost awoke
Around the Acacia Tree.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mantree
Man & Tree.
There was a spruce tree in the forest, he had
watched it grow from spindly sampling to
a handsome young tree, and thought of it as
the son he never had.
But shortly before Christmas it disappeared
he went to the market in town where they sold
hundreds of trees for those who want the real
thing, but couldn’t find it there.
After the festivities he found his tree on a dump,
green needles gone, now it was brown, he took
the dead plant home and used as kindling to lit
the fire on cold, soggy days.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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No draught turns away a farmer
To grow love is to grow a tree.
It is often cut down before blossoming
By axe that comes in the form of vigilance
The grower dolorously goes for another.
10.10.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Family Is Like A Tree
A tree is like a family it starts
out very small but it soon begins
to grow and the family too also
grows.
The tree starts out with small branches.
A family ita a child.
as the years go by they have all
grown together.
Soon the tree has been generated with
new branches and too the family expands
not with branches, but generations.
.Their both so much a like in so many
ways., if nurtured and taken care of
they both will grow straight. and tall.
And generate many new branch
and many more generations too
come as the tree grows old
some branches will die and fall off.
When the generations of a family
get old they too will die off.
But both will leave something of
themselves behind.
.
To live on for many generations of
life and many generations of branches..
GAYLE GOFF
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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