The branch that bears the most fruit bends itself thankfully towards the ground.
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You shake in vain the branch that bears no fruit.
The Tree And The Branch
the tree looks
upon a branch
where a ripe
fruit is hanging
the tree says
it is mine
the branch say
i am holding it
the tree says
the branch too
belongs to it
angry about the
tree's greed
the branch lets go off
the ripe fruit
a hungry child
picks it up
and goes home
with a happy heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Better is the branch that bends, than the branch that breaks.
A Twig Alighted
A twig alighted on a fence and dozed;
So do I sleep.
The fruit fell and what have I to do with my trunk,
What with my branch?
The fruit fell, the flower is already forgotten,
The leaves survive.
One day the storm will rage, they will drop.
To the ground, dead.
Afterwards, the nights of dread go on,
No rest or sleep for me,
Alone I thrash about in the dark, smashing
My head against my wall.
And again spring blossoms,
And alone I hang from my trunk
A bare shoot, without bud or flower,
Without fruit or leaf.
poem by Hayyim Nahman Bialik
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A Tree's Fruit
Good fruit or bad fruit, a tree can only bear one,
This parable was taught by God's one and only Son.
First mentioned by John as a warning for the Pharisees to heed,
But being blind to The Truth, most of them would not believe.
Your life is the tree and your deeds are the fruit,
This is a simple analogy that it hard to dispute.
But the Pharisees who knew the Word and lived in the land,
Were rebuked by John the Baptist, as they didn't understand.
Christians need to produce fruit for the Lord and nothing less,
And all the fruit that we produce should be fruits of righteousness.
Our old nature will produce fruit that comes from the past,
Not only is this fruit bad, but it's the kind that won't last.
Not only is bearing good fruit The Lord's heart desire,
But trees that continue to bear bad fruit may be cast in the fire.
Within your own heart is where the good or bad fruit is stored,
And by your fruits men will know you, is made clear by The Lord.
The fruit of righteousness is a tree of life, was once said,
However, a tree that bears bad fruit may be eternally dead.
What fruit you produce is strictly your choice my dear friend,
And by this choice you will either be blessed or condemned.
( 03/2002)
A young branch takes on all the bends that one gives it.
Waiting On The Wheat Harvest
as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It Is Guaranteed
Eventually the root of a situation,
Bears the fruit,
Of what has been planted.
It may take longer,
Than something else seeded.
Something deeper intentionally done...
Without the acknowledgement,
Of the one who is to reap...
What another has sown.
That takes time on its own,
To shed upon it the truth of daylight!
In time a tainted harvest,
Crops to the surface.
For everyone to see...
What has been done to whom and when,
And why.
And if a provided taste does not correctly please...
A search to unearth this deed,
Will uncover the culprit!
Usually not too far...
From a fixation one has with weeds.
Discovered,
Delighting in the growth and appearance of it!
Eventually the root of a situation,
Bears the fruit,
Of what has been planted.
That is a given.
It is guaranteed!
Eventually.
Like a bad seed enjoying deceit fed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Girl Under The Weeping Willow Tree (Oasis)
Almost
Softly
touching the ground.
The weeping willow branch
gracefully bends,
calm
and peaceful.
A cascading
oasis
for the girl
nestled beneath
her branches.
Strong is the trunk
on which she leans.
Solid
and
faithful,
on that
she can
depend.
She gazes out
at the beautiful waters
of the lake
surrounding her
and a hue of orange
from the setting sun
on the waters
captures her eye.
Peace.
Strength.
Calm serenity.
Joy.
She desires
these good gifts
from the Lord.
And she knows
He is faithful.
And she smiles.
poem by Julie A Smith
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I Will Branch Out
Behold the man who is the seed,
Behold the woman who is the bud,
Behold the child who is the fruit,
And, behold the muse of love which has now become the branch!
For, we can now see the benefit of true love.
I will branch out from my place to touch your heart with my love,
For if there is no loser in a game, there will be no winner in this life;
So, just give me cold water to quench my thirst.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Divine Tree
In my mind I see perched upon a rocky hill
Standing firm a silhouetted tree so strong and still
Its roots extend well below the turf
Reaching deep to the centre of the earth
Its sprawling branches stretch in a canopy above
High into the sky to heaven where there’s much love
This tree is magical and a symbol for us to see
As it bears fruit, good things given by divinity
Of love compassion, peace and self awareness
To visualise the tree is a privilege I confess
But all can see if they search enough
Even though the mist at times make viability tough
The wind of your thought in its branches whisper through
And brings forth its fruit for those that stay true
And if sometimes when you try to climb to its branches on high
When life seems touch and you really have to try
The branch it may break and then you may fall
But the tree will still stand it stays there for us all
And then you must try once again you see
Each time you get further higher in the great tree
And each time you make a higher ascent
You get higher into its canopy to Heaven sent
Sonnet LXXXII: Hoarded Joy
I said: “Nay, pluck not,—let the first fruit be:
Even as thou sayest, it is sweet and red,
But let it ripen still. The tree's bent head
Sees in the stream its own fecundity
And bides the day of fulness. Shall not we
At the sun's hour that day possess the shade,
And claim our fruit before its ripeness fade,
And eat it from the branch and praise the tree?”
I say: “Alas! our fruit hath wooed the sun
Too long,—'tis fallen and floats adown the stream.
Lo, the last clusters! Pluck them every one,
And let us sup with summer; ere the gleam
Of autumn set the year's pent sorrow free,
And the woods wail like echoes from the sea.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The executive branch has grown too strong, the judicial branch too arrogant and the legislative branch too stupid.
quote by Lyn Nofziger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What you give to others bears fruit for yourself.
The Way We Look At Things At First
the way you look at the woman
the way she walks and bears herself along a narrow alley,
the way she bends when she picks up
a coin, the way she blinks an eye,
or look at you when you stare at her
white face, black long hair flowing like silk in air,
her lips pouting at you
you think she is seducing you
her hands on her hips and her legs landing on the ground
like a wooden boat at the pier,
the way you look at first on the first impression is always on the
flesh
not on the shape of her bones
or the strength of her arteries and veins,
not always what is inside her guts,
or the brains in her
that you will not see unless
you go towards her, ask her name
take time together
and ask her what she thinks about
loneliness and pain
by then you will know if she is really your woman
and it is only you and time
to tell the world that the days are still worth living
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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