The New Forest
Tall trees offer the birds and beasts much protection;
Of flora and fauna, there is a truly fabulous collection.
Through the forest, ponies roam around wild and free;
Up above their heads, the small birds nest in the trees.
Under the canopy of the trees, the world seems so dim,
But, in grassy clearings, the sunlight is suddenly let in.
Trees, caught from falling, stand at an angle, inclined;
With other trees, their twisted limbs are now entwined.
Rabbits risk emerging from warren holes to run around;
Their long ears stand erect, listening for the tiniest sound.
The forest is punctuated with patches of soft, marshy land,
Where large pools of stagnant water, always seem to stand.
Herds of deer roam around, with their heads held up high;
But on seeing any human, they suddenly feel slightly shy.
Earthen tracks have been formed, by countless falling feet;
Eager to avoid the hidden dangers, of the soft bogs of peat.
Couples companionably dawdle, as they exercise their dogs,
Who, in their eagerness, vault over fallen, moss covered logs.
The boughs of Silver birch trees gently shimmer in the sun;
Twigs snap under foot, sounding like a shot fired from a gun.
The silence is sometimes broken, in places, by passing trains,
But once they've passed by, peace and quiet, once again, reign.
Leaves, twigs, pine cones, and berries, carpet the forest's floor.
For birds and animals, the forest is Mother Nature's food store.
The forest is a sanctuary from the pressures of modern living;
The pace there, compared to everyday life, is more forgiving.
The forest can be a magical place; it seems almost enchanted.
Tiny tots believe fairies live there and want their wishes granted.
Here and there, the ground rises into grassy mounds and banks.
The trees stand tall, like the attentive soldiers in military ranks.
In the shady spots, unfurl a multitude of magnificent spiky ferns.
In autumn, dressed in bright colours, the trees almost seem to burn.
Broken boughs lie abandoned; under lichen laden logs, insects hide.
Streams meander through the forest, and the surrounding countryside.
All of this outstanding natural beauty, is given to us humans for free;
There isn't a more tranquil place upon this earth, where I'd rather be.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Related quotes
Forest For The Trees
When youre a young man, down and out
You really need someone to help you out
It looks like life or death is your only choice
Its really hard to see
The forest for the trees
The forest for the trees
And when you get angry and everythings black or white
You should know that it isnt that simple, no ones always right
You know that youre life it worth living
You gotta start taking if no one else is giving
And if youre not afraid to open your eyes
You may be pleasantly surprised
Thigs are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees
So if you need somebody, tell them please
If you want someone, get up off your knees
Things are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unicorns and Myth
Many moons ago, England had its myths,
Stories of fairies, leprechauns and unicorns,
Who lived in a mythological land,
Where mystery and magic still stand,
For the forest were dark and dangerous places,
The unsuspecting walking through their depths,
Knowing the magical creatures watching over their steps,
Protecting them from the devil that hides in the dark,
Shadows waiting in the tall trees,
But nature has always had its power in magic,
White witches harnessing nature's secret power,
The plants and trees that surround and fill the forest,
Magic and myth to be found in the dark green leaves,
For the forest contains many secrets,
Many secrets where unicorns run at the witching hour,
Or the moon sharing her secret power,
And there are many beautiful flowers,
Blooming, even in the dark,
The fairies sprinkling their magic dust,
To make mushrooms and petals grow,
The forest rich with its vast, magical beauty,
That has captured the imagination of all who see.
poem by Paula Glynn
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Perfect Harmony
In a world so far away
At the end of a closing day
A little child was born and raised
Deep in the forest on a hidden place
Mother never saw his face
Ancient spirits of the forest
Made him king of elves and trees
He was the only human being
Who lived in harmony
In perfect harmony
The woods protected, fulfillled his needs
Fruit by birds, honey by bees
He found shelter under trees
He grew up in their company
They became his family
A thousand seasons
They passed him by
So many times, have said goodbye
And when the spirits called out his name
To join forever, forever to stay
A forest spirit he became
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfect Harmony
In a world so far away
At the end of a closing day
A little child was born and raised
Deep in the forest on a hidden place
Mother never saw his face
Ancient spirits of the forest
Made him king of elves and trees
He was the only human being
Who lived in harmony
In perfect harmony
The woods protected, fulfillled his needs
Fruit by birds, honey by bees
He found shelter under trees
He grew up in their company
They became his family
A thousand seasons
They passed him by
So many times, have said goodbye
And when the spirits called out his name
To join forever, forever to stay
A forest spirit he became
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Save Forests and Rare Species
The Franklin forests are extinct;
These trees of beauty are now rare;
No more are they found in the wild;
Their fragrant flowers tempt a child!
Last seen in 18 zero3,
By Altamaha river-side –
A deciduous tree or shrub,
It grows upto a twenty feet.
With leaves that change color by fall,
Its snow-white flowers are showy;
With golden yellow stamens free,
It is now grown in pots from seeds!
But nothing like the forests wild
Of Franklin trees that grew on own;
You could not find a path through them –
Home to wild animals many.
How Nature rears a forest dense!
–The secrets, no man deciphers;
The way they flourish in the wild,
No gardener can do like-wise!
As man destroys more forest trees,
For want of newer farming land,
Wild wondrous trees then cease to be,
And other species vanish too.
Deforestation is a crime
That has gone uncontrolled with time;
Rare species of trees, shrubs and beasts
Have been effaced from earth with ease.
The earth has lesser green cover!
’Tis growing bald, much more each day,
As forest trees are felled for wood,
At rates more than we ever should.
World’s rain-forests are turning scarce –
A cause of global-warming fast;
Landslides and floods are dangers new;
More species turn something of past!
Trees extract carbon-dioxide,
And make the air less polluted;
Wild beasts are on the rampage when
Their forest habitats are gone.
Save forests and afforest, man;
The clouds bring rain when trees ask for;
Wild beasts need forests for their homes;
Preserve forests in ways you can.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-23-2008
poem by John Celes
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Beautiful nature in the forest
Our beatiful nature
as it is full of leisure
it keeps us suuplied with food
and gives us too shelter which is good
our beautiful nature
in the forest the trees swing
while the birds sing
the grass dance at the birds tune
as their moisture will run away so soon
our beautiful nature
as you step inside the forest
i set my foot on the ground to rest
as the forest skin holds my feet
the dew rans way and the grass take a sit
our beautiful nature
i pick out a fruit from a tree
since they are provided for free
i dont even need to bend on to one knee
i relax inside with calm
since the forest has also a natural charm
which will protect me
from any living predators
lastly i came out happily
as i was fed so quickly
which makes me to be taking care of nature
so lets all take care of nature
poem by Tanaka Chirombo
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Regeneration
The pine needles covered the ground like a carpet
and their fragrance was all around.
The pinecones scattered here and there
punctuated the ground.
The firs were thick, stately and tall
and had grown for many a year.
They grew with the company of each other
and it did appear
that all of the forest creatures
whether large or small
were content to see the pine needles
continuously fall.
All seemed peaceful and quiet
on the forest floor,
until the animals sensed a danger.
Then there came a roar.
Most feared by all the fir trees
a spark had created a flame
and as the animals ran for their life,
nothing was the same.
The fire spread and one by one
the firs were engulfed by smoke.
Unable to breathe, they stood their ground
and silently did choke.
Consumed by a blazing fire
they quietly went to sleep.
The sweet pine aroma was absent
and into the air did creep
a sorrow for all of the trees that died
that once had stood so high.
The rain that came to cleanse the ground
was a gift to them from the sky.
For they would begin to grow again
from the rain and sun that shone.
The firs would grow and regenerate
and then would come the cone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Imaginary Creatures
In this make believe world
imaginary creatures dangle from the trees
In a forest where emotions run free
For what they feel they never agree
It`s a future they will never see
In a forest with closed doors
The imaginary creature holds the key
To a future that will never be
So as i walk this forest of make believe
I search no more for what i see
It`s just creatures dangling from the trees
In a life that will be as they see
So i`ll just leave this forest be
And search no more for that key
poem by Joseph Whelan
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If Nature Survives
Once upon a time dense forest
Now stands open field with no trees to rest
No green branches and no noise of birds
It has become rare chance for melody to be heard
Where has our cuckoo gone?
Why has she deserted morning tune?
What have we done to her go in exile?
I thought she has lost her refuge for a while
The sparrows have disappeared too
Quite in numbers could be seen through
In window hole or in little hide out
They were happily seen to be heard about
They have gone too and become extinct
Probably to far off places and in interior districts
Now villages too have adopted same way
Little trees and forest is done away
You find no crows, owls or eagles
Sky is seen barren and no formation of love triangles
Nature has turned off its kind eye
Not enough of birds could be seen to fly
Deforestation is on rise and on high side
Gap is apparent and looks very wide
We are doing enough of damage to wild culture
As if we have taken out right control for future
Who to be blamed for this outrageous act?
Earth has tolerated it but so far refused to react
Of late natural calamities are on rise
It may spring anytime big surprise
Large population insects and birds stay in forest
It is their birth place and permanent refuge for rest
We need not disturb ecological balance
Let each tree cut be replaced by more to make it dense
If nature survives we survive too
In defiance we fell apart and disintegrate too
No one can survive long its absence
Nature is our mother and real essence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Friends of the Forest (Memories of Clayoquot)
A small band of protesters
gathered in the forest.
Together their voices growing,
rising on the wind.
A Chorus.
'Stop cutting the tree's'
they cry.
'Stop raping the land.
Our Mother Earth gives us life,
touch her with a gentle hand.'
No Help
from government officials.
'Just pass the tax.' they say.
And the workers in the forest
don't want to find another pay.
So the Friends of the Forest
take a stand to show us how
the power of our words and actions
can start a change
here and now.
The future's in our human hand.
Reuse the trees.
Replant the land.
Show the world a better way
as the forest's guardian.
We are God's
each of us
in a small way,
creators of a future world
with each choice we make today.
poem by Angela Michel
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Carry me on
Carry me on to the forest whose face is
aglow in light.
I put down golden words
in the raptness of lovely green
with pure conviction I see the reflection of every
standing tree on wild streams
Carry me on to the forest with a
moonlight-rinsed face, to the cootage of peace
where every moment is enriched by sweet
chirping of birds
I place the footprints of murderous men
on every humble tree
Carry me on to the depth of dense forests
I plant one tall tree of love-laden heart
on the flowing breast of every travelling river
I tear off fruitless human blandishings
Carry me on to the eternal free forest,
to the erect trees growing in a slope
I look for pollens of every season in
every tree which donot know how to stoop down
I sculpture on every tree symbols of
futile human pride
Carry me on.
Translated from the Assamese by Pradip Khataniar
poem by Prem Narayan Nath
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Song of the woods
For a time the birds
and the trees
and animals dwelt in me,
but then came man.
Axes and saws
started to chop and bite
and as trees fell,
there wasn’t a place
safe for animals to be.
Time swept past
and man’s machines
started to carve
right trough trees.
Trees fell faster
than any could grow
and the climate was altered
by man and his machines.
Lost was the air
that had risen from me
and the forest rain dwindled
and a scorching sun
started to batter me.
The world of old is lost
and most of the trees are gone
and clouds of pollution
blankets the world.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I write these lines upon a sheet of paper
I write these lines upon a sheet of paper
That someone made from what was once a forest
Without much thought (as I suspect) for nature:
Does this not fill my heart with guilty sorrow?
Or is its lifeblood more akin to water
That runs in rivers under cloud and sunshine?
Why am I so affected by the sunshine?
All that I do - whether I read the paper,
Or, being thirsty, drink a glass of water,
Or walk amid the tall trees of the forest,
If there's no sun, my mind is fill'd with sorrow,
And if it shines, gladness is in my nature.
But gladness is not always in the nature
Of all terrestrial things, whether the sunshine
Dispels from my own mind some part of sorrow
For many men and creatures, as the paper
I read informs me, live within a forest
Of woe, and some have not a dropp of water.
One dropp of that mysterious liquid, water,
Would save a living animal, by nature,
Whether it dwelt in pasture or in forest,
However little it received of sunshine,
It cannot be exprest by lines on paper
How marv'llously that liquid quenches sorrow.
How much may we, the lucky living, sorrow,
For those who have been drown'd by cruel water,
The greater part of whom are not on paper
Recorded: but the cruelty of Nature
Alone knows. May their souls in heavenly sunshine
Be rested, and walk peaceful through that forest.
I think that life itself is like the forest,
A dark one, where one knows not whether sorrow
Will come, or else a glade o'erspread by sunshine,
That suddenly becomes a fall of water
That patters down in raindrops, in its nature.
Will those trees bloom or turn to crumpled paper?
I'll use no further paper from the forest:
My nature does not wish for you to sorrow,
But sit by flowing water in the sunshine.
poem by David Mitchell
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The Vanished
The Vanished
It was not a forest more like a few forgotten trees
by the road, they stood close together as seeking
protection from vandals. Inside the day was dark
and I heard twigs breaking off, but saw no birds or
squirrels. Perhaps it was the spirits of the people
who had lived here but had died out as the forest
gave way to farm land and was reduced to dismal
woods of evergreens that was helpless against
agricultural progress. A way of life, beyond repair,
as a dead language that is but whisper in the wind.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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What a wonderful world of nature...
When the early morning is born with heavenly blessed
When the bright sun rays shower through the misty clouds
When the birds choir being to chirp their songs on the trees
then the day being with a wonderful of nature.
I can feel the Mother Nature touches me with her love
I can feel the nature illuminates my heart and brighten my soul
I can see the green grass in summer-spread lovely
I can see the flowers in the spring bloomed lavishly
I can see the leaves falls in the autumn covered earth greatly
I can see the trees full of snow in the winter sprinkled
I can see the stream water gurgles from the mountain
I can see the fauna in the jungles freely set to live happily
I can see the barren lands wet and fertile
Not only they are beautiful in nature
but they serve a purpose for us
Not only they are beauty as forest
but they serve food and water for us
Always, praise the God and thank HIM for HIS beautiful creation
What a wonderful world of nature that you and me live.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Those bare forests
When I was young, I had gone to this forest,
It was dark, deep and wild,
Like my youth it was full of resources,
I had spent few days there and had learned how the forest life is?
Forest life means survival of the fittest,
I could not find difference between city and forest,
In city too only the fittest can survive else the human who have wore the leather of lethal animal will not let the herbivore animal like us to live.
After twenty years struggling in the city and being tortured by children,
I returned back to the same forest to see its growth,
I could see it was bare, cut by poacher, deforesters,
It had not followed its own rule and the trees which it holds were all ageing like me,
We both were thrown out of the society it was thrown by cutting and I by my own sons.
I and it had the same fate bare with few more ageing hair and trees to be removed.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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In Tempreate Forest
In Temperate Forest,
Neither cold nor warm.
You can take serene rest,
Expanding your arm.
Humming with lively life,
Birds call from the trees.
In their delight and strife;
Insects rustle like breeze.
The thick leaves of forest,
Cut sunlight in drops.
Seeing the peaceful nest,
Heart happily throbs.
Honey-suckle, blue-bell,
Bloom and laugh in gay.
Hazel, dog-wood, sorrel,
Enjoying the day!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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The Bird Watcher (Part 1)
I plod through the leafy woods
The shadowy, coolly rain forest at the dale
Harkening the spellbinding tunes of trills
Watching the vividly coloured pretty fowls
Echoes of those feeble (But aloud) chirrups twinging me
Of those little birds I encaged in my early ages
Were all tremulous and dolorous sobs, but
Misapprehended unto chant sweet songs of rollicking
Encaging the birds is remorselessness
To set all those confined birds free, now I wish,
To let them spread their wings beneath the skies
And dry out their invisible tears in the fresh breeze of the freedom
The red and blue Macaws, the Golden Pheasants….
The birds of passage,
The settlers for the time being,
Blossom the trees with lurid variance of colours
The Green Turacos, the red Robins
And the tall milky Flamingoes with pinkish limbs
Creeping in the marsh and organizing their eats,
Deceive me the marshy land to be an enchanting flowerbed
Golden slanting rays and long shadows
The contrasting beauties of the forest
And the humming of swaying trees in the breeze
Embellish to the beauty to the trills & chirrups
May 11-2009 (Hawiyah - Saudi Arabia)
poem by Nooruddeen Mathilakathveetil
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