Sonnet: All Things Have a Purpose
A wild tree grows for ants to be its guests!
Old water-tank helps frogs spawn, croak each year;
A neem tree grows for birds to build their nests;
The refuse-dumps rear insects sounding ear.
The cut tree-trunks help white ants eat and breed;
The papayas help birds to beak with joy;
On wild berries, squirrels happily feed;
The tall palm-trees house pea-fowls to enjoy.
The wilder trees add greenness to the earth;
The wild flowers give nectar to wild bees;
The parrot-noise though disturbing, gives mirth;
His duty to His creatures all, God sees.
Don’t blame something if you can’t understand;
God knows the uses of the desert-sand!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: God is Kinder to Man
A wild tree grows amongst the broken stones
And rocky land: I wonder how at all?
Its greenish fruits make nests for ants and drones;
With natural glue, they weave it like a wall.
With time, they bend and twist the flattened fruits;
A cozy nest gets made that lasts for long;
And when it dries, switch on to newer shoots;
They guard their larvae with a marching song.
Though God grows trees for ants/bees to make nests,
Yet, man fears God may not him well provide;
But human beings are God’s heavenly guests;
And God is our Master, Friend and our Guide.
What love exits the heart that made us all!
And longs to take us back ev’r since our fall.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild In The Country
(words & music by george wise - hugo peretti - luigi creatore)
A rose grows wild in the country
A tree grows tall as the sky
The wind blows wild in the country
And part of the wild, wild country, am i
Wild, wild, like the deer and the dove
Wild and free is this land that I love
A dream grows wild in the country
A love grows tall as the sky
A heart beats wild in the country
And here with a dream in my heart
Part of the wild, wild country, am i
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Nature Feeds its Other Creatures Superbly
The Guavas o’er-ripe highest on the tree,
For long by humans unbothered remain;
Squirrels and birds come eat them happily;
God’s charity is enormous like rain.
Thus, Nature feeds creatures in unseen ways,
With berries, leaves that men care not to pluck;
The dumb creatures thus spend their living days,
From Antelopes, Ants, Squirrels to wild Duck.
A few men practice real charity;
This is by habit and not ignorance;
And Nature too can kill without pity;
When famine strikes, it is a ‘Skeletal-dance’!
God feeds His creatures through Mother Nature,
Who knows their problems well of their future.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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That Knows
the face in the mirror,
grows darker with time...
deep and grainy,
weathered and beaten.
the trunk of an old tree,
where birds hide their nests,
and squirrels meet to plot
the downfall of man.
hollowed and sketched,
with dignity unspoken,
the scars of love and wars,
where insects breed and whisper.
and time itself,
bows in awe and respect,
for the tree that knows
itself to be a tree!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Nature's Call
A bluebird is perching
Upon the fence,
Just beyond it
Is a forest, dense.
Squirrels are chasing
Each other,
Scampering and racing
With much luster.
A stream is slowly running
Past.
I draw some out,
And water the plants.
All is growing wild...
Wild is the cat,
And so is the bear.
Wild is the honey,
And so is the fish.
Wild is the bat,
And so is the hare.
Wild is the bee,
And so is the tree.
Wild is everything
That you can see.
A scream from the cat,
A roar from the bear.
Silence honey,
And splash from fish.
The screech of the bat,
The thump of the hare,
Buzz of the bee,
The sweet rustle of the tree.
Many sounds,
Made by one
And all-
Thes are the sounds,
Nature's call.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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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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Not Everyone Looks Forward To Spring
Although it is a time of bloom and blossom
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
It also is a time of heavy pollen
And not everybody looks forward to the Spring.
The garden in full bloom is looking lovely
And blossoms on the bushes and the trees
But pollen by the warm breeze is carried
And you hear some people sniffle, cough and sneeze.
The beauty of Spring on the artist's canvas
And Spring inspire the lyric poet to rhyme
But all of those who have an allergy to pollen
Will tell you that Spring is not their favourite time.
Not every one yearns for the warm weather
Or for the scents of blossom, rose and flower
You cannot enjoy the beauty of a sunlit garden
If you cough and sneeze one hundred times an hour.
It is a time of greenery and beauty
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
And Mother Nature she is at her loveliest
But not everyone looks forward to the Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Wild Wild Party In The Loquat Tree
Out in the back by the grape stake fence
Is a place where nature makes so much sense
All the creatures livin in harmony
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
Havin a feast beneath a clear blue sky
Animals comin from miles around
To bounce the branch and shake the loquat down
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Peckin at em pickin at em hidin em away
Savin em up for a rainy day
No matter how big no matter how small
Theres more than enough theres plenty for all
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Every little loquat holds the seed
For a brand-new baby loquat tree
One o these seeds may find its way
To a place in the sun and then someday
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
All havin a party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neem tree
Neem treeis at the top
And this neem tree
As you see here
Infront of my house
Wellwisher of all
Those who are coming
And going here and there
Bowdown before it
As a mark of honour
At every step of life
And I like its leafs
Flowers fruits
Branchs barks
Twigs trunks.
Neem tree is at the top
At the top.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Willow tree by the lake
Willow tree by the lake standing tall since the day one
Home for birds and squirrels, place of fun
Breeze will come and play with her branches
Whistle at them before they move on
Any time, at mid day, at night or at the crack of dawn
Humming bird feeder and bird house hanging all over the tree
They swing back and forth and hang free
All summer it is a fun house as the birds come and go
Rabbits will hop around on the ground below.
Ducks will sit idle or sleep under her shade
Squirrels will carry food up the trunk, not afraid
During winter when nature sleeps no life around
Willow tree will shelter the birds, the squirrels
and even the worms under it's ground.
Many yrs ago I planted the tree, saw it grow day by day
Sat under it, wrote poems, it made me happy and gay
I know one day my time will be up and I will be gone
But my willow tree will still be here, singing with the wind at each dawn.
poem by Syed Karim
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Love And The Wind
All were in league to capture Love
The rock, the stream, the tree;
The very Month was leader of
The whole conspiracy.
It led Love where wild waters met,
And tree hugged close to tree;
And where the dew and sunbeam let
Their lips meet rapturously.
And then it shouted, 'Here he is,
O wild Wind in the tree!.
Come, clasp him now, and kiss and kiss!
And call the flowers to see!'
And there, on every side, the wood
Rushed out in flower and tree.
And that is how, I've understood,
The Springtime came to be.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Wild East
(ian hunter)
Well its tuesday night
How Id like to be inside at this time
Watchin t.v. is killin me
Its such a drag tonight
I feel like jason
Just found a rusty fleece
And the cyclops all laughin at me
You cant tame wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Now some cynic from the methadone clinic
He keeps on bothering me
He writes all my lyrics backwards on diapers
And hangs em from the local trees
Watch out, white boy
Dont argue with a sawn off piece
Im a crazy son, mama
I love the grease of wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Now jezebel dont feel too well, she talks to jane
bout a one way conversation on a subway train
Hey! they took away her wallet and her valise
Love hate, love hate, love hate, love hate, wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east come on crazy wild east
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time of the Oak
At the end of my fence there is a beautiful big oak tree
It has withstood all weathers remaining proud and free
The trees bark is overgrown with wild ivy and faded
It's never alone because many insects and critters invaded
I often see the sparkling eyes of a racoon at twilight
Or an opossum hanging from a branch holding on tight
Thousands of insects and birds visited over the years
Because the tree provides shade and shelter it appears
I often think of trimming it but I do not have the heart
Leaving nature alone seems to be the way that's smart
During fall I usually get mad because of the falling leaves
But I enjoy watching the squirls taking acorns like thieves
The old tree has seen different times and past generations
It has fought with the wind and endured heat with patience
The oak spreaded out and with majestic posture it stands
The tree is a statement of time without making demands
During a storm I know I am safe if the oak tree survives
Because it has conquered time - being part of many lives
I am waiting for whispers of ancient secrets it may shares
Telling me about natures yet undiscovered evolutionary affairs
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Secret of the Sun
Raised by the bare bones of nature’s grace,
my home held hands with the feral forest,
where nature hid her gold.
I have heard palm trees whisper their stories
I have listened to the silent full moon quietly teach
lessons of those who had lived.
I know of the green secrets of the earth
Soft voices of searching roots that sprout forth, cluster
around my hut to tell.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I understand the tongue of the wild.
I have swayed to the blue songs of humming birds that fill the
tree branches with their nests.
I have had breakfast plucked ripe off the tree
and lunch caught right from the river.
I have aimed a stick in the forest and secured supper.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
where nature’s breast milk flows from palm trees
and every suckle leaves a smile on wrinkled ebony faces.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I have seen rains held up at the summons of wooden carved gods.
women foretell events of the next day, and men
hear voices of elders long dead.
I am from the bowels of Africa
I am carolled to dreamland by
crickets, frogs and fireflies
that mime nature’s song at night fall
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I am the dark secret held by the sun
Wildflowers
The hills were alive with wildflowers
And I was as wild, even wilder than they
For at least I could run, they just died in the sun
And I refused to just wither in place
Just a wild mountain rose, needing freedom to grow
So I ran fearing not where Id go
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
And the flowers I knew in the fields where I grew
Were content to be lost in the crowd
They were common and close, I had no room for growth
I wanted so much to branch out
I uprooted myself from home ground and left
Took my dreams and I took to the road
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
I grew up fast and wild and I never felt right
In a garden so different from me
I just never belonged, I just longed to be gone
So the garden, one day, set me free
Hitched a ride with the wind and since he was my friend
I just let him decide where wed go
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can fly
You are butter fly
So you can fly
We are human being
We only keep on trying
You have sense to find out honey
We are hungry but only after money
You store for future and bees
We not only take fruits but steal complete tree
See the ants
What do they want?
What do we need?
More and more as greed
See the river water
They flow and cater
All needs and provide
Unite all but never divide
Birds sing in time
We praise sometimes
If that serves the purpose
We keep silence and only suppose
We take no clue
Neglect and refuse to view
We are adamant and irresponsible
Want everything but without struggle
Ants store for future use
We waste it and vehemently refuse
Cut the wood and barren the forest
How can anything then be called best?
Let us not cry later
Still we can make it better
We should miss nothing in anticipation
Let us build future with active participation
* Childish attempt *
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Wild Mountain Thyme
1. oh, the summer time is coming,
And the trees are sweetly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
Chorus:
Will you go, lassie, go?
And well all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather,
Will you go lassie, go?
2. I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain,
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain.
3. if my true love, she wont have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
4. oh, the summer time is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
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