Trees under the sun,
trees, hosting man and woman
Trees, our own clean lungs!
haiku by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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Among the Trees
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for the one my heart calls for
I wonder lost among the trees
I see your light amongst the dark
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is brighter then the rest
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is out of my reach
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light comes closer
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is bright like an angel from the sky
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light fades away and leaves me alone
I wonder lost among the trees
Without a hand to guide the way
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for my guiding light
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost, alone
I wonder afraid of the world
Around me I look for the one
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost and alone forever...................................
poem by kelly Martini

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Plant More Trees
Plant more trees
As it looks green
And save the homes of the animals please.
Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the humans safe
From pollution and disease.
Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the cities beautiful and clean.
And throw the garbage into a dustbin.
Stop cutting trees
And plant more trees
For a long live of you and me!
poem by Srijita Das

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Spring comes only once.
The spring strikes; the trees blossom.
Bees swam and the trees bloom.
The autumn strikes; the trees shed.
Bees are nowhere around the trees.
Spring comes to woman only once
That she must enjoy without a miss.
26.11.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Chicago Sestina
I am surprised by the streets of Chicago
when the palm of winter grips them with snow
as if to forgive the city’s mistakes
and give it a canvas that’s new, white, and clean–
its fingers, the branches on all of the trees
kneading the air that blows in from the lake.
I’ve never lived next to the pulse of the lake
(until I set foot down the side of Chicago)
breathing in through the streets and out through the trees
welcoming the cool of the wet, numbing snow.
It lets my mind slip into thinking it’s clean
as if to personally forgive my mistakes.
“But what have you done to forgive your mistakes? ”
Did I ask this? Or is that the voice of the lake?
Some days, not even does it appear clean,
worn down from its tall standing neighbor, Chicago.
It scrapes at the sky, asking it for more snow
to stick to and freeze the trunks of the trees.
If I were a branch on one of these trees
incapable of making a single mistake,
I’d grab at the sky as it shook out the snow
and grow my roots thick till they tasted the lake.
But I wouldn’t bend to the force of Chicago
that’s constantly keeping me from being clean.
And what does it mean to try to be clean?
I don’t understand the stillness of the trees
when they’re being attacked by the size of Chicago
as if to glorify the city’s mistakes
that glisten like stars at night on the lake
before it all froze and was covered with snow.
Ah! To imagine how long there’s been snow.
How can something this old still feel so clean
and dance through the wind that swoops in from the lake?
Is it the kneading by the spiny branches on trees
trusting that there will be no more mistakes
that leaves these the only pure thing in Chicago?
Here comes the snow that seeks out the trees
Am I now clean? Where are my mistakes?
Chicago belongs where it lay with the lake.
poem by Brian Maloney

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Where Trees Are, I Am!
Just trees will grow in shapes that please,
My shapes do grow like limbs;
Eyes see, ears hear - abilities!
But trees possess just whims.
Where trees are, I am! So you are
The one with limbs, the one
Who swears with words always bizarre,
Phrases of prediction.
The plants called trees are super-wise,
The stalks are trunks profound,
Their limbs and roots also advise,
The trees are aboveground.
poem by Naveed Akram

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My beautiful flowering trees
My beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall buy some land
Plant countless seeds
And watch them grow
Into beautiful flowering trees
A cool breeze
Will bring me
Sweet fragrances
From a thousand flowering trees
I shall listen
To the songs
From birds perched
In the tall flowering trees
I shall play
With my children and theirs
In the vast expanse of green
Amongst beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall rest
Passing into oblivion
My ashes scattered
Amidst the beautiful flowering trees
by Ash (Rishi's Dad)
poem by Rishi Menon

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Choked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstructing her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is any more than she can tell what time it is
Which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog swallows it
She has been misled again
...and again
......and again
She screams, she’s tired; she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like she’s been here forever
Trees that don’t talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
Mocking her, humiliating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
Water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Joyce Forbus

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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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They Remain Beautiful To Behold
there are trees without leaves
there are those
that do not flower
that do not give you
any fruit at all
yet these trees remain
trees
and i do not entertain
any idea
of an ax
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Hugging trees has a calming effect on me. I'm talking about enormous trees that will be there when we are all dead and gone. I've hugged trees in every part of this little island.
quote by Gerry Adams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Companion On The Impossible...
on finished paths
i shy away, the stones there look the same
but no one is complaining
and all attempts to find new ones
seem to be nothing but a respect for
the trivial,
i am faced with forest trees
those that do not know how a man looks like
or how a woman tastes
all they know are the winds from the sea
and the clouds from across the islands of despair
i do not have a cutter on my hand
and i only have my fingers and tongue
i squat under the sun and begin my work
there is so much to cut and clean
been here for years and there is nothing much
that changed
the trees have grown so tall and cannot even see me
the grasses sheltered more snakes and have their party
i am alone with nothing but hope....
and then you come.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Dead Trees
the trees in the forest that you cut
come back
for revenge
the tragedy is that
those that died in that flood with all the dead trees
are the
most innocent
you escape this time
but the trees soon will find you
soon, soon,
i pray.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Trees Should Be Leisured
Trees should be leisured.
And given our priority.
Treated as if royality.
Without them no one breathes.
Trees should be leisured.
And stroked and pampered as if pets.
Instead of showing them neglect...
With a chopping down they get.
Trees should be leisured.
Like those we say we love.
Like favorite foods we eat to please.
Or things to ask from God above.
Trees should be leisured.
And given our priority.
Treated as if royality.
Without them no one breathes.
All trees should leisure.
Not be chopped and sold as huts!
To be then neglected or resold,
Or abandoned to give up!
Trees should be leisured.
And stroked and pampered as if pets.
Instead of showing them neglect...
With a chopping down they get.
All trees should leisure.
Since without them no one breathes.
All trees should leisure.
Since without them no one breathes.
And if from us trees should leave...
We would not here be needed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Small Trees
I am little like the small trees,
These are at least bigger than flowering plants,
The richness of theirs is far superior to us.
Since they are richer and we are taller,
The magnificent colours shine as they do.
Greenness is our nature as trees,
Whilst they are always colourful
More than us.
The tree of bigness is a lethal organ,
One we sit by and watch growing older.
Then the small trees subjugate the other trees
Far smaller, but we are supposed to respect
The bigger trees, they are certainly not the biggest.
The best of us are longer in health,
Whilst I am little for I am a small tree.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Chocked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstracting her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is anymore than she can tell what time it is
which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog shollows it
She has been mislead again
...and again
......and again
She screams, shes tired, she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like shes been here forever
Trees that dont talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
mocking her, humilating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Dowdy

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Until they lose everything
In the Springtime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beautiful flowers
In the Summertime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beloved fruits
In the Autumn time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most painful leaves
In the Winter time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their hope.
And the wind beats again those trees
Until they lose
Their most important spring buds
Again and again
Until they lose their sap
Moreover
The wind beats the trees
Until they collapse down
To the ground.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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I Hear
When the trees sing what matters is knowing.
That the trees are singing at all.
their gentle music ever out flowing
for those attuned to hear its call.
Although all children hear and sing along,
most adults have forgotten how
to listen to the trees and hear their song
They’re far too busy to allow
themselves to be distracted by the trees
Their minds are fixed on other things
and do not miss the melodies
The gentle breeze amongst the branches sings
It makes no difference at all
The trees still sing as they have always done
in summer, spring winter and fall.
I listen for the music of the trees
those sad but sometimes joyous harmonies.
10-Dec-08
http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Woman
In my eyes, as my eyes being but two
Their is nothing more beautiful and
exciting as a Woman true.
GOD has created His flowers and his trees,
But in my eyes He never really created
until He created Woman.
She with hair as long as the grass
blowing in the breeze.
She with eyes as bright and deep as
the sun awaiting for me.
Eyes that can search a mans soul for
his woe, and feels it with happiness.
She with a smile as a rainbow arriving
after the storm.
The smile and rainbow many men had
searched for, so to feel our soul with warmth.
She with a body and walk as an Angel,
That stops mans breadth in His lungs.
She with the gift of life, that gives an old
man the right again to feel young.
She with a scent of Her own that no one
but Her owns.
As the rose and dewdrops has their own
she has hers, but alas theirs can be owned.
GOD created the flowers and trees, and all
the beauty of this world.
And I know I wouldn't be alone when I speak.
Take your leaves, and take your trees.
Take your rose, and take your snow.
But I beg of you GOD please, women to me, leave.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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Save The Oak Trees
When you touch paper you touch a tree.
You pray for the trees from which paper come to thee.
Trees store light and wisdom in which they can share,
the make you cool by giving you shade.
You shop down a tree you should pray.
Pray for the Oak trees not to but cut down
cut down sad to the ground.
For Oak trees are very tired now-
they need to be appreciated somehow.
Appreciate Oak trees qualities of strength.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Mach 11,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise

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Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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