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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
THE Pine
Shaft of beauty towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passers by
Swaying in the Autumn breeze
The tall majestic pine trees
Shedding it's cones to the ground
Swaddled in needles all around
Fragrant and green in the snow
Ancient trees how tall they grow
Cooling dark green pines orth
Evergreen needles reaching forth
Like a sentry standing saluting the sky
Raising up through the clouds so high
Summer and winter under boughs spread
Snows of centuries have crowned your head
The fragrance of virtue of the pine
Rises to the heavens so sublime.
Orth - Straight.
poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Riddle For You
standing high I see the whole forst
Limbs stretched, needles green,
I am the ponderosa pine.
Low on the ground, home to small bugs,
Different colors, loose on the ground or tight,
I am the sandstone.
Crunching beneath your feat,
Snapping and breaking, releasing smells,
I am the pine needle.
I shelter small anmals, I give food to some,
I lay short from the ground up, a smell so strong,
I am the sage brush.
I keep all these things alive,
Without me you can not survive
I am water.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silver Wolf
The moon shone down
On an unsuspecting forest
Filled with chatters and squeaks
There was noise all around
Nobody sensed what was to come
Then there came an hour
When through the forest
Stalked the Silver Wolf
Product of a diseased imagination
Dangerously, silently
Scythe like claws bit the ground
Gleaming fangs hung dangerously
From a curled and sneering jaw
With great silver strides
The wolf covered ground
While all creatures around
Fell still
Sending a silent prayer
To those who would fall to the jaws
The claws
Of the giant Silver Wolf
poem by Sophie Khanoum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Norfolk Pine Of Port Fairy
'Tis said they grow more than a metre each year
And they do seem to have grown since I was last here
The Norfolk Island pine of Port fairy they tower over all
Beside them most other trees look rather small.
Though not quite as tall as the mountain ash tree
They seem to grow well in the Towns by the sea
On either side of the streets by Griffith Island tall and evergreen
These beautiful trees in their dozens are seen.
As a feature of the Town in the Coastal Countryside
The norfolk pine of Port Fairy have become known far and wide
They do look quite graceful for want of a better name
And without them Port Fairy would not look the same.
A feature of Port Fairy for visitors to recall
The evergreen norfolk pine trees stand graceful and tall
Nature's beauty at her finest for Nature lovers to see
On either side of the streets that lead down to the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The camper
Night 'neath the northern skies, lone, black, and grim:
Naught but the starlight lies 'twixt heaven, and him.
Of man no need has he, of God, no prayer;
He and his Deity are brothers there.
Above his bivouac the firs fling down
Through branches gaunt and black, their needles brown.
Afar some mountain streams, rockbound and fleet,
Sing themselves through his dreams in cadence sweet,
The pine trees whispering, the heron's cry,
The plover's passing wing, his lullaby.
And blinking overhead the white stars keep
Watch o'er his hemlock bed--his sinless sleep.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature's Rose
As the vast nature
blinds the eye by its beauty
the trees grow taller
the grasses grow greener
The animals grow more peaceful in their natural habitat
But none grow as beautiful as the red rose
As the red rose grows day by day
I walk by it desiring to pick it
Sitting and waiting for the petals to grow more mature
To grow and show off the beauty of the rose
Years go by and the rose is almost grown
This special rose is different from the rest.
Others grow, beautify, and die
While this one grows year after year
The blood of the rose is pure
as it flows up and through the beautiful flower
But the rose has not completed its growth
I run my hand down the body of the beautiful flower
Shedding my blood from the sharp thorns
I grasp the flower and thrust it from the ground
As my blood drips, the blood of the flowers does so too
The red of both mix and mature and fall to the ground dropp after drop
The smell of the flower overtakes the pain
This is Nature's Rose
C Is For Conifers
Most with cones for seeds, most with needles for leaves
C is for conifers, my kind of trees
Large junipers and fir, spruce, cedars and pines
C is for conifers, more then five hundred kinds
If you see a Christmas tree or a stack of newspapers or a 2x4 frame of a house
It's probably made from pine trees and pine trees are conifers, that's what this song is about
Or if you see a plant in the shape of an elephant, or in the shape of a dog
It's probably a shrub, a conifer shrub pruned into that shape by someone
Most with cones for seeds, most with needles for leaves
C is for conifers, my kind of trees
Large junipers and fir, spruce, cedars and pines
C is for conifers, more then five hundred kinds
Spoken: There are so many different kinds of conifer trees.
This is just a few of them: Spruce,
Hemlocks, larch, cyprus, juniper,
Fir, Douglas fir, cedar, yew,
Pine, the dwarf conifer,
And the great California sequoia redwood.
Most with cones for seeds, most with needles for leaves
C is for conifers, my kind of trees
Large junipers and fir, spruce, cedars and pines
C is for conifers, more then five hundred kinds
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Snowy Sunset
Snow Snow on the ground
Sun is sinking down down down
Trees trees covered in Wight
People gasp at the sight
Snow Snow on the ground
Animals scurry all around
Snow Snow in your hair
Stiffness and cold in the air
Snow Snow on the ground
People sledding down down down
Hot Coco and coffee inside
Why not go for another sled ride
Snow Snow on the ground
The sun has set past the ground
Lights light up the city bright
People every where say what a sight
poem by Miranda Will
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sequoia Trees
Trees so long that it makes a city look small.
Yet they make the Empire state building look tall.
People can climb this massive trees in the winter or the fall.
I saw pictures of people climbing one Sequoia like a mountain.
One of these days I want to climb a Sequoia tree.
I think these trees will last until the end of time.
No one should ever cut them down in their prime.
The Sequoias bark is so thick that it protects itself against fire.
They can last long winters in the Sierra.
Thick bark serves both causes which makes it unwilling to expire.
The fact that they are continually growing is very profound.
Theses trees are so tall and round.
Most people cant see the sky from the ground.
None should chop it down because it will fall
to pieces on the forest floor.
Try to make wood from those trees and you will be poor.
These famous trees are disease resistant.
One Sequoia is called the President.
On earth this is the second greatest tree giant.
The Sequoias are Americas living monument.
I find the Sequoias so hard to describe,
because they are so magnificent.
Thanks God for creating trees that cause so much excitement.
Poem - III
Through the dark aisles of the wood
Where the pine-needles deaden all sound
And the dove flutters in the black boughs
Through twilit vaults of the forest
Where fungus stifles the roots
And the squirrel escapes with a cone
Through the dim alleys of pine
Where the bent stick moves like a snake
And the badger sniffs at the moon
Through the green graveyard of leaves
Where the stoat rehearses his kill
And the white skull grins in the fern.
poem by Henry Treece
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fertile Ground
Some lives fall on fertile ground
and grow and grow and grow.
Some lives fall on stony ground
and fail to grow at all.
We are like the seeds of flowers
we need a base to grow,
to spread our roots
and watch our seedlings grow.
11 April 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The 'secret' of their being up in the tree had continued for almost two years now. Where the thick trunk branched out near the top, the two could sit comfortably. Michiko, straddling one branch, leaned back against another. There were days when little birds came and days when the wind sang through the pine needles. Although they weren't that high off the ground, these two little lovers felt as if they were in a completely different world, far away from the earth.
Yasunari Kawabata in Up in the Tree
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
A Pine Tree in My House
A tree that grows in my garden
A robust pine tree
Stands big and Proud
Sinks its roots deeply into the Earth
A pine tree in my house
Spreads its seeds every where
Sheds needles all over
Drops big cones onto my lawn
Survives within the sun
Ambles forth in all direction s with each gust of wind
Bends over the roaring storm
Tosses its branches in magnificent enthusiasm
Attracts the colors of a million sunsets into its needles leaves
Sways gracefully with the wind
Whispers with the blowing breeze
Cuddles joyfully with the changing seasons
Tries to reach the sky!
Looks beautiful in a peaceful state,
Is wise in its silence
Grows lush in all seasons
Allows the birds to perch and soar
Never holds them back
Never pines for their return when they fly away
If our hearts were like pine trees
We would have no apprehension in our minds
No one would wish to bring us down
No one would wake us up at night
A pine tree in my house
I Call it the tree of paradise
What I’ve got, I know it matters
For paradise, I wish to pave the way!
poem by Dr Shamim ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blessing Rain Becomes Supercell Storm
it takes very little
water to make a flood
when ground is parched
rock when earth is sun baked
exposed so quickly blessing rain
can turn into supercell storm devastation
spare sun tortured ground save trees keep sacred
forests mysteries which umbrella moisture ground
with limbs diverse tall oak trees many leaves blessing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forest In Winter
Winter’s chill winds again, and the birds
wing silently through the white pine trees
searching the snow for food, scratching the ground
when they find signs of sustenance.
A blanket of whiteness deadens my footsteps
but seems to sharpen the whistling of the wind,
and is raised and gathered into gusts that rage
shrill and stinging against the trunks of the trees.
Like a cold steel knife
winter bites icily into the cracked bark,
and the forest sways,
but with proud fortitude,
for winter is a hard taskmaster,
but fiercely beautiful.
poem by Rory Hudson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forest Follies
The Green Man
and the gargoyle
sat idly by.
As the forest
caught fire
and the flames
they grew high.
Till mountains of smoke
had covered the sky.
Then down flew the fairies
in fury they came.
And battle they did
with that furious flame.
Sending in torrents
of free falling rain.
Then away
to the mountain
the fairies did fly.
As the souls
of the forest
did softly sigh.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!