En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Trees

Green with spendour when Summer's here,
Brown contender in Autumn's sphere,
Bare the branches in Winter's embrace,
New growth created, when Spring shows her face.

Stalwart trunks, with many years standing,
Leaves when over, steadily landing,
Branches swaying in the breeze,
How I love all kinds of trees.

Forests of green, where they all meet,
Swaying together as they all greet,
Each morning, when the light appears,
Each growing slowly over the years.

Sentinels of the land they survey,
Strong and upstanding in every way,
Graceful, mighty, powerful and fine,
Tall and sleek just like the Pine.

The Oak, Ash, Sycamore and Lime,
The Rowan, White Beam and Silver Birch sublime,
Each one giving of their glorious best,
To the World - The World's been blest.

What would we do without our trees,
Don't cut them down, will you please,
Remember how they give us shade,
From the sun, within the glade.

Stand and study these majestic creations,
Upright descendants of past relations,
Their dignity, against all weathers,
If it were us, we'd lose our tethers.

But these gallant trees require our care,
They give oxygen, in the air
That we breathe, so, if we want to survive,
Let us keep our trees alive.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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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
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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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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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Meditations after Li Po for M lady Helen

I
I follow in the footsteps
of old poets of the past.
As geese fly south in autumn.
Instinct is my only guide.
My attempts to emulate,
may not bear such worthy fruit.
I can only do my best

II
The trees discard all their leaves
and face winter nakedly.
I ask myself why this should be
but I receive no reply.
Winter winds pass freely through
the leafless twigs and branches.
Dead leaves return to the earth.

III
The trees stand as sentinels
coated with white bitter frost
Bowing in submission
to the power of the wind.
Better to bend than to break,
the trees know instinctively
the wind dies as spring returns.

IV

Only when the time is right
the geese will return once more.
The trees will put forth new leaves,
flowers spring up underfoot
The spring sunshine will inspire
Poets to take up their brush
and ink: To write poetry.

21-Oct-07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood

In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.

In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.

In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.

poem by Andrew Blakemore
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Autumn Falling Leaves

When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,

Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,

Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,

Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,

Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,

Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.

poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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New For Old

Bud blisters into life
Stretching for the light
Unfolding radiant green
Upturned palm to the sun
Life seeping in, breathing out
Green, Green so Green
Resurrected hope, so Green
Summer breeze stroking
Branches ebb and flow
Leaves so Green strong now
Fear not wind of change
Mellow summer turns
Green, green, green-yellow
Yellow area of dieing heart
Green lingers no more
Limp transparent yellow
Barely a breeze takes one
Fierce Hyde-like wind now
Cracking and ripping
Wind torn leaves fall
Life chords snapped
Death too early, still Green
Nourishment broken not ended
Seasons build up to tear down
To build up, to tear down
Leaves fall, Green leaves fall
And then some more
Until leaves are falling, falling
Trees and branches revealed
In the x-ray of autumn blast
Winter is coming
Winter is coming
Yellow pale yellow carpet
Beneath the naked tree
Yellow, mulchy brown
Once crisp leaves scatter
Green, yellow, transparent veins
Tired, half dead, leaves lose their grip
Join the autumn rain soaked mound
Providing new life to the roots
Old for new, New for Old
Seeds buried in death
Bring new life in Spring
In the end is the beginning.

poem by Adrian Wait
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Ah The Trees

Ah the trees soothe the mind
Take time to breathe the air
With the breeze the puppeteer with touch so fair
- They duet, with delicate wave and muted joy
A minuet for bygone kings or tinker boy.
Ah the trees, I leave my madness
As I run through crowded street
Diesel perfume will never smell as sweet
-As the meadow kissed by the breeze
Conducted by the trees.
Finding childhood summers I had lost.
Or winter wood with decor frost.
Ah the trees, where we rest our eyes in shades of green
And butterflies now seldom seen
Flicker in the sun.
When your lips touched mine and we were one
Lost in the rat- race we would run.
Beauty now we find in books
Yet Mother Nature has kept her looks.
Ah the trees, charcoal black as tempests
Like to scatter fear with lightning strike
But you stand strong against the sky
Like troops you watch the bullets fly
Swaying until the storms respite
Laying still in the morning light
Revived as hoar frost does yield to sun
Miracles for everyone.
And as birdsong imparts a healing trill
Trees dance, we embrace
And stand so still.

poem by Kevin East
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There and back again for M 'lady Chitra

There are no blossoms to be seen.
They’ve served their turn and left the stage
The trees are clad in shades of green
One further step on their passage

from the bare twigs of winter time.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
then blossom time which is sublime
Providing pleasure for the eye/

The trees are in their summer dress
More subtle than their spring attire.
Waiting for autumn to impress
with leaves that seem to be on fire.

The autumn winds well strip them bare
and spread their glory on the ground.
A coloured blanket everywhere.
and twigs now dancing to the sound

of early winter gales that blow.
Creating eerie harmonies,
bare branches moving to and fro
produce discordant melodies.

The trees endure the winters rage,
the bitter cold and falling snow,
The know it’s just another stage
they’re well prepared to undergo.

Before the welcome spring returns
to prompt new tender leaves to grow
Followed by blossoms in their turn.
As seasons come and seasons go,

07/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Harmless Gossip

An avenue of stately trees
whose branches meet high overhead
exchanging gossip with the breeze.
This is the way that rumours spread.

When lovers stroll beneath the moon.
The trees observe their every move.
They dance to day to the same tune
their forbears danced to when in love.

Though fashions change, some things do not.
The trees have seen it all before.
All that they’ve seen is not forgot
but added the their growing store

of gossip which the trees then share
with every passing breeze that blows.
The trees will spread it everywhere
to all and sundry I suppose.

Be very careful what you do.
Although no one can see.
Know that the trees are watching you
and they will share quite happily.

Everything that they have seen
with any breeze that happens by.
With consequences unforeseen
By trees and breeze or you and I.

When strolling in a moon lit glade
Beware the moons soft silver rays.
That stir the blood of man and maid
to think this is the time and place.

19/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once Upon An Autumn Day

Once Upon an autumn day,
Colorful leaves began to fade
In the midst of a chilly, frosty air
As multitude of trees grew steadily bare.

Once upon an autumn day,
The whispering breeze was here to stay
Moving aimlessly through the countless trees
Scattering leaves with the greatest of ease.

Once upon an autumn day,
The leaves whirled freely in every way,
Until at last they came to rest
Finding a haven in which to nest.

Once upon an autumn day,
The trees were dormant, and the leaves lay
Waiting for the winter snow to fall
To quickly obscure them one and all.

poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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The Autumn Months Splendor

The Autumn Months Melody
The hot summer days are gone and rolled by
The cool autumn months have once again arrived
The autumn majestic spirit permeates the land
It is another new day of autumn
The far sun above the horizon sends its rays and gentle warmth
on the valleys, mountains and hamlets
Nature has dressed in beautiful colors
The jolly trees are painted with red, yellow and brown
The autumn trees adorn the valleys and mountains that hug the skies
It is a portrait of panoramic dazzle
The brisk wind blows over the meadows
The cool wind sweeps the plains and fields
The tall trees dance and bow gently in grace
The tree branches hiss, swing and sway
The shivering leaves quiver with the wind
The green pastures are dotted with a mosaic
of dried brownish scattered leaves
Joining autumn happy symphony
The singing joyous birds, the playful beavers
The swimming silver fish in the water streams
All bring a solemn joy
The sun slowly climbs the immense skies
The autumn patchy clouds cast their shadows on the peaceful land
All painting an awesome picture of beauty, love and harmony
How beautiful are the melodies and splendor of the autumn months!

poem by Sherif Monem
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Trees and Plants

Plants and trees
So green so green
The kitchen is the leaf
And the root is the chief

They give us flowers to decorate
And also to celebrate
They give us paper from their wood
And they are found in the woods

With their help we can make whatever we want
From a rubberband to a pant
We don't need to pay tax or fees
To borrow from our lovely trees

They protect us from diseases
That would make us ill
All the carbondioxide
They always take in

Some people cut trees
For things like table and chair
Not knowing what pollution
They are doing to the air

Forests are turning from green to brown
Animals' faces are always with a frown
So let's make this place from brown to green
By planting more saplings and trees

poem by Deepika Ganesh
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A Day In The Life Of A Tree

Feel the wind burn through my skin
The pain, the air is killing me
For years my limbs stretched to the sky
A nest for birds to sit and sing
But now my branches suffer
And my leaves dont bear the glow
They did so long ago
One day I was full of life
My sap was rich and I was strong
From seed to tree I grew so tall
Through wind and rain I could not fall
But now my branches suffer
And my leaves dont offer
Poetry to men of song
Trees like me werent meant to live
If all this world can give
Pollution and slow death
Oh lord I lay me down
No lifes left to be found
Theres nothing left for me
Trees like me werent meant to live
If all this earth can give
Is pollution
Trees like me werent meant to live
(oh lord I lay me down)
If all this earth can give
(my branches to the ground)
Is pollution and slow death
(theres nothing left for me)
Oh lord I lay me down
My branches to the ground
Theres nothing left for me

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Decline of Day

Gentle breeze,
swaying trees
leaves
golden-green.

Imperfect sphere
sliding through day’s
perfect, blue air.

Ascends the moon
stark and silver
much too soon.

poem by Steven Federle
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Pine Tree

I'm a pine tree in a ceramic pot,
Sitting on a ledge beside a window.
The other trees outside have grown a lot,
But my maturation has been so slow.
I watch each season pass in front of me.
I watch the world wear down in bad weather.
I watch each tree become green and healthy
In front-yard forests—tall and together.
I see the leaves go brown, flake and crumble.
I see the barren branches of winter.
I see nature force them to be humble
When lightning crashes them into splinters.
I'm fine looking from here, my window sill.
In watching, I experience life still.

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Insolvent for my friend Aldo

The silver leaves of aspen trees
which shimmer in the playful breeze.
Each separate leaf reflecting light
like newly minted coinage bright.
Quite soon will be a memory
as autumn winds strip every tree
until no single leaf is left
Their branches naked and bereft.
Though they still shiver in the breeze.
The naked branches do not please
the eye the way they used to do.
I long again to see the view
of silver laden aspen trees.
which dip and curtsy in the breeze..

28-Oct-07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trees

whenever the lustre of my amber glistens,
i could feel the price it had exacted on the trees,
blood red tears meandering rough and uneven tracks
to land where they were kept like a child for a million years

they emerge to fascinate us with coruscating tales
of the romances with time, lost on the memory of men,
the dinosaurs, the first forests, the insects -
which now sparkle with such subtlety - they draw us
to the heart of their very existence, the million
years in the now, solidified, and now dangling right
at the door to the heart, our bossom

the trees, the trees, so many of them
standing tall and proud, as if broadcasting to us
if they had not been around, creation
would have been at a standstill

the trees, the trees, they fuel the world
a panacea to foibles rolled into one tall order, -
so that our cars run, our kitchen cooks, our umbrella works,
the news reach us handsomely wrapped, the chopsticks
to pick our food, the clogs to walk and rattle autumn,
the medicine to heal our rebellious body, fruits for
the seasons, the table for us to write on and a cosy
space for the dead to dream on

when they stand in a fusion at the break of dawn
it feels one has stumbled upon a meditative realm
of the highest kind - the orchestra blasting away
in them permeates every hidden place - they only help
to enhance that robustness and promises of the day
the sun channels its recuperative light - leaves that dance,
filter the music and the essence of the day

trees, trees.... abodes of birds, animals, they tell
on the weather, sing the storm before it approaches
and whistles to us fine spring tunes

trees trees standing so tall, majestic affording
a luxuriance to cool ourselves as we brood over
our destiny - trees our only saviours as the earth
climbs the mercury ever ready to send us
into obivion in a spinning fiery hot cauldron

second version:

whenever the lustre of my amber
glistens, i could feel the price
it has exacted on the trees, brown red
meandering down the barks and onto
the soil and for a million years,
preserved in the goodness of the earth
to give us the infinite light on the pendant

the trees, the trees, so many of them
all standing tall and proud as if to broadcast
to us that if they had not been around, creation
would have been at a standstill

the trees, the trees, they fuel the world
a panacea to foibles rolled into one tall order, -
so that our cars run, our kitchen cooks, our umbrella works,
the news reach us handsomely wrapped, the chopsticks
to pick our food, the clogs to walk and rattle autumn,
the medicine to heal our rebellious body, fruits for
the seasons, the table for us to write on and a cosy
space for the dead to dream on

when they stand in a fusion at the break of dawn
it feels one has stumbled upon a meditative realm
of the highest kind - the orchestra blasting away
in them permeates every hidden place - they only help
to enhance that robustness and promises of the day
the sun channels its recuperative light between the leaves
in a playful quest - like pianists dribbling ivory keys -
to give to us the best of the day

trees, trees.... abodes of birds, animals, they tell
on the weather, sing the storm before it approaches
and whistles to us fine spring tunes

trees trees standing so tall and majestic, shaking and
jolting many of us to the solid truth that if not for their
presence, the earth that has been climbing the mercury bars,
would have sent us into oblivion in a spinning fiery hot cauldron

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter Night for Friend Hunter

Though almost imperceptibly. The snow was falling steadily,
unruffled by the slightest breeze. To coat the branches of the trees,
with layers of the purest white, which sparkle in the pale moonlight.
The contrast pleasing to my eyes. Beneath the trees a blanket lies
as yet a flimsy covering which is slowly thickening.
The snow continues relentlessly but quietly and stealthily.
The winter will remorselessly alter existing scenery.
Cover the faults and flaws with snow, assisted by the winds which blow.
When night departs and morning breaks, spread far and wide the fallen flakes.
Until the world appears to be as far as human eye can see.
A pristine expanse of pure white: a truly awe inspiring sight.
Which waits to greet us when we rise, a sight too bright for human eyes.

26-Nov-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back To An Old Place

it is summer
scorching summer
season creeping,
grasses are wilting
trees are shedding of
their last leaves,
what i see are bones
of trees,
skeletons of
branches,
the dry wind keeps
blowing the leaves
away,
what i have is this
bald surrounding
emptied of their
essence
beyond me are
brown mountains
vultures are
in the skies
eying for
death as prey
i sit upon a rock
the only rock
left here
i have no cover on
my head
i am half naked
i have no one to talk
to,
they have left this
arid place
a long time ago
i am back
i am telling the
sand soil,
i have something
to write and
tell the world
about it

it is summer
in this vast desert
a long time ago
this was ours
and the trees are green
grasses verdant
butterflies flutter
and innocently
land on our
hands.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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