When you see a palm tree, the palm tree has seen you.
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Little palm tree, stop crying, you child is the tall palm tree.
A palm wine taper does not stop tapping palm wine because he once fell from the top of a palm wine tree.
When you drink milk under the palm tree, people will say that it is palm wine.
It is only one bad palm tree that spoils the whole lot of palm wine.
You don't have to climb the palm wine tree to drink palm wine.
If the young palm tree wants to stay alive, it grows next to the odum tree.
Change the world with turning the palm
Change the world with turning the palm
Turning upside
Turning downside
Changing the world is not as hard as you think
Turning outside
Turning inside
Changing the world could be as easy as turning palm
Palm is opened
Palm is closed
Clap! Clap! Clap! The astonishing sound heard
Palm is hailed
Palm is hugged
When all people do it together
Yes, we can make a different
Change the world with turning the palm
Hide away smile
Erase away tears
Changing the world with a slight change of mind
The fate is cast
The fate unknown
Changing the world by turning others opinion
Palm is embracing
Palm is praying
Crack! Crack! Crack! A flicker of hope seen
Palm is waved
Palm is offered
When all people do it sincerely
Yes, we can change the world
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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 Palm-Tree
Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm,
On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm?
Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm?
A ship whose keel is of palm beneath,
Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bark sheath,
And a rudder of palm it steereth with.
Branches of palm are its spars and rails,
Fibres of palm are its woven sails,
And the rope is of palm that idly trails!
What does the good ship bear so well?
The cocoa-nut with its stony shell,
And the milky sap of its inner cell.
What are its jars, so smooth and fine,
But hollowed nuts, filled with oil and wine,
And the cabbage that ripens under the Line?
Who smokes his nargileh, cool and calm?
The master, whose cunning and skill could charm
Cargo and ship from the bounteous palm.
In the cabin he sits on a palm-mat soft,
From a beaker of palm his drink is quaffed,
And a palm-thatch shields from the sun aloft!
His dress is woven of palmy strands,
And he holds a palm-leaf scroll in his hands,
Traced with the Prophet's wise commands!
The turban folded about his head
Was daintily wrought of the palm-leaf braid,
And the fan that cools him of palm was made.
Of threads of palm was the carpet spun
Whereon he kneels when the day is done,
And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one!
To him the palm is a gift divine,
Wherein all uses of man combine,--
House, and raiment, and food, and wine!
And, in the hour of his great release,
His need of the palm shall only cease
With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace.
'Allah il Allah!' he sings his psalm,
On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm;
'Thanks to Allah who gives the palm!'
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Hollywood
Orange and yellow and purple and green
The lights of the city at night set the scene
Stumble through the bars of forget-me-not lane
Sparkle through the glitter but dont show the pain
In hollywood
Underneath a golden palm tree
Hollywood
Come to the party the drinks are on me
For free
Heartbeats echo through a cavern of love
Come to the tavern Ill meet you up above
Soaring through the heavens, what a fabulous ride
But everybodys heading for the same place to hide
In hollywood
Underneath a golden palm tree
Hollywood
Come to the party the drinks are on me
For free
The drinks on me
For free
The drinks on me
For free
The drinks on me
The drinks on me
The drinks on me
The drinks on me
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Trip To Tulsa
Well, I used to drive a cab, you know
I heard a siren scream
Pulled over to the corner
And I fell into a dream
There were two men eating pennies
And three young girls who cried
The west coast is falling,
I see rocks in the sky.
The preacher took his bible
And laid it on the stool.
He said: with the congregation running,
Why should I play the fool?
Well, I used to be a woman, you know
I took you for a ride,
I let you fly my airplane
It looked good for your pride.
cause youre the kind of man you know
Who likes what he says.
I wonder whats its like
To be so far over my head.
Well, the lady made the wedding
And she brought along the ring.
She got down on her knees
And said: lets get on with this thing.
Well, I used to be a folk singer
Keeping managers alive,
When you saw me on a corner
And told me I was jive.
So I unlocked your mind, you know
To see what I could see.
If you guarantee the postage,
Ill mail you back the key.
Well I woke up in the morning
With an arrow through my nose
There was an indian in the corner
Tryin on my clothes.
Well, I used to be asleep you know
With blankets on my bed.
I stayed there for a while
til they discovered I was dead.
The coroner was friendly
And I liked him quite a lot.
If I hadnt ve been a woman
I guess Id never have been caught.
They gave me back my house and car
And nothing more was said.
Well, I was driving down the freeway
When my car ran out of gas.
Pulled over to the station
But I was afraid to ask.
The servicemen were yellow
And the gasoline was green.
Although I knew I couldnt
I thought that I was gonna scream.
That was on my last trip to tulsa
Just before the snow.
If you ever need a ride there,
Be sure to let me know.
I was chopping down a palm tree
When a friend dropped by to ask
If I would feel less lonely
If he helped me swing the axe.
I said: no, its not a case of being lonely
We have here,
Ive been working on this palm tree
For eighty seven years
I said: no, its not a case of being lonely
We have here,
Ive been working on this palm tree
For eighty seven years
He said: go get lost!
And walked towards his cadillac.
I chopped down the palm tree
And it landed on his back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Girl In The Sunset
Girl in the sunset
I only saw you for a second
Yet your voice penetrated my brain
And echoed endlessly
'Stay with me' you cried
As Your golden blond hair was spinning
And as your lavender shirt caught the slow warm wind's
Under a palm tree that was swaying back and forth in that very same wind
I cannot put a name to your face
Yet you looked so familiar
Were have I seen you before?
In my many years of sailing to come will we ever meet?
That sense of togetherness I felt was indescribable
Passion I have not felt in nearly a decade
Girl in the sunset
I wish to stay under that palm tree
And view the orange sunset with you in my arms in that slow blowing warm winds
On that cobblestone road
Why do you elude me?
When will I find you?
I think I found you
But you are not “her” yet
Girl in the sunset
Please wait for me...
poem by Mike Casola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The strength of the palm tree is in its branches.
Though the palm tree in the jungle is big, who knows how big its yield will be?
There are no short cuts to the top of a palm tree.
The Little Negro
Ah! the poor little blackamoor, see there he goes,
And the blood gushes out from his half frozen toes,
And his legs are so thin you may see the very bones,
As he goes shiver, shiver, on the sharp cutting stones.
He was once a negro boy, and a merry boy was he,
Playing outlandish plays, by the tall palm tree;
Or bathing in the river, like a brisk water rat,
And at night sleeping sound, on a little bit of mat.
But there came some wicked people, and they stole him far away,
And then good bye to palm-tree tall, and merry merry play;
For they took him from his house and home, and ev'ry body dear,
And now, poor little negro boy, he's come a begging here.
And fie upon the wicked folks who did this cruel thing!
I wish some mighty nobleman would go and tell the king;
For to steal him from his house and home must be a crying sin,
Though he was a little negro boy, and had a sooty skin.
poem by Ann Taylor
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Palm trees
There’s palm trees that grows in a row
down Nelson Mandela drive
and I wonder how they survive
and are full of life and vibrance,
while the one or other pest
destroys the rest of the palm trees
and eats them from the inside
and my neighbour’s palm
is yellow brown and dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In The Palm Of Your Hand
In the palm of your hand
you hold my heart.
Cradle it gently, my love
so it will never fall apart.
In the palm of your hand
you hold my love.
Carress it tenderly forever
and always place it above
everything that you touch.
Hold my hand
in the palm of your hand
so that I may always feel
that the sifting grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
will never be able to steal
these precious moments away.
Let them be able to stay
always in the palm of your hand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A palm tree climber is not expected to tell everything he sees from up above.