Quotes
Quotes
The next time you come to my door,
the next time you reach my bed,
It will not be the same, it will be a different
time, a different world, a different me.
♥
I am a tree, a lonely tree,
that every year dies
and lives again, every season,
new branches,
new leaves and new sights surround me,
and I am living and dying all the time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Related quotes
To Be Restored!
to think that this is the only time we've lived,
is small minded, and absurd!
we are leaves born by the same tree,
season after season, year after year.
with each summer the branches are fuller,
with each autumn the color deeper....
with each winter the time of stillness cuts deeper...
with each spring the hope of the spirit is reborn!
we are many lives in one,
many forms in one...
the journey is long, the ache is great,
for the eyes of the heart to be restored!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tree Dies
Tree stands alone in his space
A nagging memory of family
That once surrounded him
A time called woods
Tree is feeling his age now
Crippled down one side
By the whip-crack shock
That came with the sustenance
Tree listens to the grass growing
The birds twitter all over him
He feels the seasons change
Frost hurts more each year
Tree is aware the end approaches
He has no way to avoid it
Creeping across the valley towards him
More tired at each one-sided battle
Tree doesn't dream of after
No idea of tables or chairs
Fewer leaves again this year
None at all down the black side
Tree knows the time has come
The sharp teeth cleave him
He lies with the wet grass
Dying in the loam of his birth
poem by Savalot Savage
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Tree Time Warriors Bliss
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree … Tree … Tree Time Warriors
Tree … Tree … Tree Time Warriors
Blissssss ……
Blissssss ……
Sensual
Sensual touch …
Tree Time Warriors
In E flat
Tree Time Warriors
In E flat
Tree Time Warriors
In Spiritual Sensual Touch
Tree Time
Tree time
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree … Tree … Tree … Tree Time
Tree Time Warriors
Tree Time Warriors
And
Bliss.
poem by Stephen Karnaghan
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Tree
I know, my tree won't live any a week,
I know, my tree in that city is sentenced to death.
But I am all time with it:
I'm tired of all the other affairs,
I think, that it is my house here,
I think it to be my close friend.
I planted a tree.
I know, that pupil could break my tree tomorrow.
I know, my tree will leave me certainly.
But in the time, when it is living, I'm sitting closely,
I feel a great joy, and pain also.
I think it to be my world.
I think it to be my son, indeed.
I had planted the tree.
song, lyrics by Victor Tsoi, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Leaf And The Tree
When will you learn, myself, to be
a dying leaf on a living tree?
Budding, swelling, growing strong,
Wearing green, but not for long,
Drawing sustenance from air,
That other leaves, and you not there,
May bud, and at the autumn's call
Wearing russet, ready to fall?
Has not this trunk a deed to do
Unguessed by small and tremulous you?
Shall not these branches in the end
To wisdom and the truth ascend?
And the great lightning plunging by
Look sidewise with a golden eye
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud?
Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb
Is trodden in a little time
By cattle on their way to drink.
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think,
That hears the wind and waits its turn,
Have taught it all a tree can learn.
Time can make soft that iron wood.
The tallest trunk that ever stood,
In time, without a dream to keep,
Crawls in beside the root to sleep.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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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It's Christmas Again
That time of the year is here.
It's Christmas again.
That time of the year we wish
good will towards all men.
It's time for the trimming,
time for the singing
of carols we all know.
It's time for children with eyes so bright
and time for the flakes of snow.
Let's put up the tree and light it
and think about the past,
when all of our Christmas times
have come and gone so fast.
It's time for the food.
It's time for the gifts.
Let's have a cup of cheer.
For Christmas is here.
It's that time of the year again.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Christmas Is My Favorite Time Of Year
How wise the wisemen must have been
To find the Child in Bethlehem
He lives again and draws us nearer
Christmas time is here.
A tail of love that never dies
The laughter in the children's eyes
The child in me is always there
Christmas is my favorite time of year.
The mist of wonder lies under my tree
The gift of memories os waiting for me
The day will come and soon depart
The spirit stays to hear my heart
With love for people everywhere
Christmas is my favourite time of the year.
Christmas is my favourite time of the year...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Treasures
Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree.
Lush, green ambiance standing before me.
Mesmerized by childhood memories.
I smile and ponder of which I see.
Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree,
That precious time of year upon us,
to embrace our family and friends.
To share, care and make amends.
Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree.
The time to think of Jesus Christ,
what his life for all has given.
Rejoice, praise, worship and sing.
His Father in heaven is our true King.
Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree.
Away you’ll go for another year,
With glowing memories packed inside.
Fresh in our minds, we shall not hide.
Our living savior, Jesus Christ.
Gives much love, and an abundance of pride.
Written: Dec.2/06
poem by Melvina Germain
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No Christmas Tree Where It Should Be
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 tearfully
No home, no kids surrounding me
No corner in my house to see
The magic of that Christmas tree.
poem by David Keig
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Christmas Is My Favorite Time Of The Year
How wise the Wisemen
Must have been
To find the Child
In Bethlehem
He lives again
And draws u-us near-ear
Christmas time is here
A tail of love
That never dies
The laughter in
The childre-en's eyes
The child in me
Is alway-ays there
Christmas is my favourite time
Of year
The mist of wonder
Lies under my tree
The gift of memories
Is waiting for me...ee-ee-ee-ee-ee
The day will come
And soon depart
The spirit stays
To hear my-y heart
With love for people
Everywhere-ere
Christmas is my favourite time
Of the year-ear...
Christmas is my favourite time
Of the year-ear...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Light of Christmas
Gather round my family
One more time for me
Celebrate the season
As you light the Christmas tree
The branches need the tinsel
The tree still needs a star
And stockings need their rightful place
For family near and far
It’s more than just a gesture
Or motions you go through
It’s all part of this special time
That we show in what we do
So set the family china
Put the star upon the tree
And know that special twinkle
Reflects your love for me
poem by Robert Longley
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~~It was May, The Summer of my 12th Year~~
My fathers' field
acre upon acre of hay
barren in May
from winters blight
perfect for me to play
~~
Flat land
as far as I could see
except for one huge pine tree
a young boy, idealistic still
I thought this tree was grown for me
~~
I climbed the tree most every day
climbing right to the very top
branches formed a perfect seat
magically sitting there
time would stop
~~
Wind would blow, branches creaked
the tree and I swaying with the breeze
protected in my tree
ignorant of life's confusion...
its little ambiguities
~~
Now I wonder, as I sit
in these my twilight days
if only I could travel back
to that my 12th year in May
to hear the wind, smell the pine
and feel the boughs as they sway
~~
I would love to whisper one more time
to my very special tree
thank you so for keeping me safe
and all the memories
but most of all for the excitement
and the passion for feeling free
poem by Peter Shea
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Song: On Borrowed Time
We're all living on borrowed time,
Near the brooding sea and brine.
And we grow our primate's spine,
In every clime.
Since we crawled out from 'neath the grime,
And evolved to a species – prime.
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.
On borrowed time. We feed and dine.
On borrowed time. In swill like swine.
On borrowed time. We sup our wine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
On borrowed time. In slow decline.
On borrowed time. No season shines.
On borrowed time. No reason rhymes.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
We're all living on borrowed time,
Acting out our roles in mime,
As if you cannot tell that I'm confused.
We're all living on borrowed time,
And we're captured hook and line.
Enraptured lives entwine as minds unloose.
On borrowed time, by frantic chime,
Of doomsday clocks and scam sub-prime.
On borrowed time, we count the dime.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
From that day of Eve's droll crime,
When dull Adam su*ked the lime,
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.
On borrowed time. By dread defined.
On borrowed time. Knee-deep in slime.
On borrowed time. We moan and whine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
On borrowed time. To heights sublime.
On borrowed time. Statistics climb.
On borrowed time. Who reads the signs?
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
poem by David SmithWhite
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It's Christmas Time
The best time of the year
The time to share our love
I wish I could celebrate this increable tme with you for the lifetime
But, Christmas comes once a year
It's Christmas time
let's forget the bad things
and move on with our love
It's Christmas time
I don't need money
But your love
I don't need nothing
But you
I am the tree and you are my star
without you I would be empty
so, baby It's christmas
The best time of the year
It's our time
to light up the world
It's Christmas Time
poem by Guenael Oristel
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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.
Miseltoe And Wine
For those who say Christmas
Is the time of peace, you'd be right
Christians shall gather
For the years pass fast
It's A Time For Living
A Time Of for laughter
Time for Giving
most of All, A Time
Of Sharing
Cos for Christmas time
Means Miseltoe And Wine
For Children Singing Christian Rhymes
For logs on the fire
And gifts on the tree
It's Time toto rejoice
In the good that We See
For god sent his son
This time of year
Sees New Hope
We had waited so long
Now He is here!
Time To rejoice
To sing the chorus
A Time for Joy
A Time for song
And Forever after
And a time for all
Fighting to cease
Time to rejoice in the Good that we see
With Christmas Time
Miseltoe and Wine
Children Singing
Christian Rhymes
With Logs on the Fires
And gifts on the Tree
Time to rejoice in the good that we See
poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
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The tree that knew me.
My tree will know it all
The tree of my childhood
With the endless branches
And the many whispers
Time that it can only measure
My tree remembers
The boy with the wind in his hair
The boy with the crazy laughter
The boy with the fear of living and of lifes unknowns
The boy I used to be
Before the internet or the mac
Playstation Nintendo and games that attack.
My tree remembers me
Clinbing its branches into the sky
Hung on its strong limb
A swing
Of rope and wood.
Telling me I should
Swing as high as I could
Touch the weightless sky
On the magical piece of wood
I can fly and pierce the sky.
My tree remembers
Red Light
Green light
Outdoor street light
Before
My first crush or even a kiss
Dodgeball
And street baseball
Red rover
Red rover
Please come over
And play
Hide and seek
Take cover
And be meek
In my tree
Is everything I want to be.
Imaganary places
People
Creatures
And mystical things
High In my tree
I can see the world
But no one can see me...
My tree remembers me
The boy I use to be
My tree does not know what happened to me
My life has no room for fasanations of fantasys
Now complacted full of responsibilities
I have no time
To many dead lines
My tree looked at me
And said this is where you should be..
One day I drove hurriedly by.....
The pain of progress has its cost
And my tree has lost its spot
It was no longer needed for shade and play,
And its slow pace way
Was its end.
In my heart that tree and me are not appart.
poem by Howard Johnson
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A Time Of the Year
It is funny how memories
of old friends appear
at just around Christmas
every year.
Your mind drifts off to places
you used to know
and all the fun
you used to enjoy there.
Back to the school days
how joyous they were,
but ask anyone how they felt about them
and they’ll tell you they hated it there.
In truth, it was the best years of our lives.
A time before the world
and its pressures closed in,
a time of laughter, no tears there.
Lazy days of summers
that seemed to last all year,
and at Christmas
everyone’s favourite time of the year,
gifts spilled out from the bottom of the tree.
Those times are all now gone,
but we can still relive
the joys we used to know
through the eyes of our children
and their children
at this time of the year.
12 December 2007
poem by David Harris
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