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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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Tree makes
Tree makes life free
Do not cut tree
It is lifes industry
Life is in forestry.
Tree's talk listen
Silently tree given us
Best education
And we survive for
Tree only and tree make us
Enjoy our vacation.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Buddha Steps # 8
the trees are alive!
even in the dead of winter,
if you're still,
you can feel their pulse,
waiting....
chainsaws and axes,
matches and hearth.
you are alive!
just below your numbness,
if you're still,
you can feel your pulse,
waiting...
chainsaws and axes,
matches and hearth.
God is alive!
just beyond your conceptions,
if you're still,
you can feel eternity's pulse,
waiting...
chainsaws and axes,
matches and hearth.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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a Shaft Of Bees
More callous than a dig
More back-breaking than a slam
Amber as a tale, more amber than landlord
Everlasting as an auto-da-fe, more everlasting than raft
Travelled as an air, more travelled than breeze
Dateless as a wing, more dateless than cup
After they have received us at dawn, knowing, striving, like im-petuous shafts.
As if they have had us in the spring, liking, paring, changing lack like discomfit.
While they have had us sometimes, growing, carrying, like an im-mense bee.
Since they have refrained us in late spring, a sort of slam, thinking,
seeing, barbs, bees, shots, the liking shafts.
Until they have held us in late spring, between these shafts and
those shafts, knowing, shaming, between these barbs and those shafts.
As if they have had us in autumn, holding, meeting, like docile barbs.
Until they have fed us in autumn, lapping, complaining, dry as a spot.
Until in early spring they have run us, saying, declining, like a hand.
After late at night they have run us, suspecting, sounding, writing mud without clover.
How they babbled us,
those bold enterprises!
A bloom of their delirium
has brewed a load
to a travelled
breast of auto-da-fe
More zealous than an eye
How they ceased us, these presumptuous separations,
victorious as a
rumor!
The warmth borrowing our nerve, our standing
face
poem by Victor Hugo
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Watching Love Making Love
makes my armpits
alive again
makes my blood rush
back to my brain
makes my body
dance to the tune
of love's rock
makes my eyes blink
wild like a bird
hovering from one
tree to another
like a pornographic
movie
but i really like romance
much better
that gentle kiss
penetrating inside my
throat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Family Tree
We class ourselves as branches
on our family tree,
each person has a branch
and each branch has its branches
growing out of it.
Let’s go back to the beginning,
who would be the base
of our family tree.
In being logical,
we take the first names
in our written history
and those first two names
have to be Adam and Eve.
Now if they are the base
from which all families grow.
That makes everyone
on earth one big family,
and that makes everyone we talk to
part of our big family tree.
7 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Strange Tree
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
There’s a strange tree which topples me,
For this strange tree was tall, you see,
And then this tree would use its knee,
To break in three, the clouds who flee.
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
The northern tree, its branches free,
The southern tree, no limb to see,
For this strange tree, was strange, you see?
There’s a strange tree which I can see,
And this strange tree (against my plea)
Was sent to sea, its roots now free,
And now this tree… A ship is he.
End.
Tree please forgive me
Oh tree, oh tree
Please forgive me
Oh tree, oh tree
I hope you smile at me
Oh tree, oh tree
I will try to save you
Oh tree, oh tree
Become my friend because I am all alone here
poem by Lovely Girl
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Under The Laburnum Tree
(A simple tale)
Under the Laburnum tree
She saw his gentle face
Under the Laburnum tree
She knew their first embrace
Under the Laburnum tree
She gave to him her love
Under the Laburnum tree
Beneath the stars above
Under the Laburnum tree
He left her there to cry
Under the Laburnum tree
That`s where she chose to die
(Under the Laburnum tree
Were scattered all its seeds
Under the Laburnum tree
Amongst the growing weeds)
Under the Laburnum tree
The moon was shining bright
Under the Laburnum tree
Her silv`ry soul took flight
Under the Laburnum tree
At last she was set free
Under the Laburnum tree
She found eternity
poem by Valerie Dohren
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On Tree
Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather
satisfied with me. I Looked at TREE.
What if anything do I knoe about TREE.
It used to be a thing made out of wood, always tall,
with branches near the ground. Roots fingering the ground.
Life comes up somehow to TREE. Water cascades down to ground, seeping slowly into ROOT. ROOT transmogrifies
the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.
People still tell me, Tree just cannot live.
There is no real feeling in TREE.
There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.
People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.
I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.
He Makes all the TREE begin, upon a distant planet,
Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.
And every meadow of his earth.
The ONE who gave me birthe the second time around.
The ONE who gave me TREE.
And Time to write this down.
poem by Charles Hice
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Xezel
Woe to those who plot evil upon their beds!
For she who was in labour has now given birth;
And they coveted fields and homes and oppressed the poor.
The flower of Lebanon wilts and i cannot find my lover,
And like flaming torches in the day of preparation!
But they entangled like thorns and they are drunk like drunkards!
The seductive harlot is with Xezel,
And many are ready with their axes at the big tree!
For she who was in labour has now given birth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet: the Drumstick Tree
The drumstick-tree I thought was dead and gone
Is fully clothed by green leaves and flowers;
The bees are active and some fruits are born;
The tree awaits August’s Monsoon showers.
I see the tree growing so fast each morn;
My eyes perceive not the blossoming act;
How well does Nature heal its parts much torn;
Human beings are blind with eyes- the fact.
So, numerous small birds visit the tree,
To eat the flowers that gets dropped nearby;
The tree makes the backyard look so lovely;
Some Millipedes remain and will not die!
The tree looks resurrected, simply great!
God gave a new lease and a newer date.
7-31-2000
poem by John Celes
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A Tree in a Field
There once was a tree,
A tree alone in a field.
And as that tree grew
It got bigger than all 'round.
And people would often stop
Just to look at that tree,
That tree in a field.
Till one day one person,
Went and cut down that tree,
That tree in a field.
And you know what?
That tree learned one thing
Don't stand too tall too fast,
Or someone just might
Cut you down.
poem by Matthew Tener Wade
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Anthropomorphism
Monkeys looking like a man could be,
Climbing to get the fruit off of the tree.
Isn't that just like a human?
What makes them different to us?
Female tigers protecting their cubs,
While the male goes hunting in the shrubs.
Isn't that just like a human?
What makes them different to us?
Puppies barking at the sound of danger,
To protect their home from a stranger.
Isn't that just like a human?
What makes them different to us?
Birds chirping back and forth,
Sounds like talking for what it's worth.
Isn't that just like a human?
What makes them different to us?
People fighting for no reason,
People enjoying all of the teasing.
Isn't that just like an animal?
What makes us different to them?
poem by Lenore Lee
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Tree and Sky
Let my soul, a shining tree,
Silver branches lift towards thee,
Where on a hallowed winter’s night
The clear-eyed angels may alight.
And if there should be tempests in
My spirit, let them surge like din
Of noble melodies at war;
With fervour of such blades of triumph as are
Flashed in white orisons of saints who go
On shafts of glory to the ecstasies they know.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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The Bee
THE BEE
The busy bee
From tree to tree
Makes us see
That a body wee
Has also tremendous energy.
From the tree top
And from crop to crop
The bee does hop
The honey to prop
Drop by drop.
Like the bee to feel
With enormous zeal
And buzz with even keel
And to meticulously deal
Dear God, before thee, I kneel.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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A Christmas Tree! A Christmas Tree!
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With dark green needled memories
Of childhood dreams and mysteries
Wrapped present-like in front of me.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
I glimpse a past wherein i see
The child that then grew into me
Not forward fast but haltingly.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
A time for being with family
A time that's gone so fleetingly
Yet lives for always deep in me.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
When twelfth night comes whole hauntingly
One lingered look and then i see
No Christmas tree where it would be.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With feelings now felt longingly
No corner in my house to see
The magic of that Christmas tree.
poem by David Keig
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The Vision the Tree that was Me
I saw a tree so tall and straight
It almost reached to the heavenly gate
I was very close to that tall tree
I became the tree, and the tree became me A fire was burning all around
It burned the roots that were attached to the ground
The fire did not burn the heart of the tree;
As I was the tree and the tree was me. God saved the tree that was me,
God looks upon the heart you see
He saw a sinful heart set free
Sins all buried on the cross of calvary God took the tree that was me,
And planted it by crystal sea
I am the tree, and the tree of life is in me
I, and the tree are one you see, Would you like to be our neighbor?
A tree planted by the waters.
Come to the cross dear sisters and brothers
Jesus will meet you; and we will meet each other.
poem by Pearline Wagner
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 193
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Someone on a drunken spree
With all of their might
Gave me new height
Here for all to see
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Not really where I should be
I’m usually found
Much nearer the ground
Lined up uniformly
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
It makes me feel rather free
To have reached a place
No other cone’ll grace
Fills me with real glee
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Plastic and bright orangey
I might catch the eye
Of some strange passer by
Who’ll write a poem about me
poem by Flying Lemming
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A single tree makes no forest; one string makes no music.