Fallen Leaves
A gentle
breeze
blew leaves
upon your
tree.
They clung
to the
branches,
refusing
to
surrender.
A violent
storm
appeared,
beat
against
your
branches.
Disturbing
the
leaves.
They
held
firm,
until
they
couldn't
hold
any
longer.
The
pressures
of life, so
great
they fell
away
crying.
poem by Heather Burns

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Samuel Gardner
I who kept the greenhouse,
Lover of trees and flowers,
Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm,
Measuring its generous branches with my eye,
And listened to its rejoicing leaves
Lovingly patting each other
With sweet aeolian whispers.
And well they might:
For the roots had grown so wide and deep
That the soil of the hill could not withhold
Aught of its virtue, enriched by rain,
And warmed by the sun;
But yielded it all to the thrifty roots,
Through which it was drawn and whirled to the trunk,
And thence to the branches, and into the leaves,
Wherefrom the breeze took life and sang.
Now I, an under-tenant of the earth, can see
That the branches of a tree
Spread no wider than its roots.
And how shall the soul of a man
Be larger than the life he has lived?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters

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Make-believe
Make-believe
The olive tree had three trunks Siamese triplets?
It was old and gnarled, some of its branches had
no leaves and it was lost in an abstract, cosmic
dream and not aware of its surround; I touched
the perennial and thus gave it soul.
A mild breeze blew, a fluttering of leaves and
the three could see the blue sky where a silvery
bird flew northward glinting in the sun. It could
also see how cute other trees looked, when aware
how ugly it was dawn dew dripped from leaves.
Wished it could be a cosmic dream again and
not know of time and place. But look, its tears
had fertilised the ground and around its trunk
flowers so rare they had still to get a Latin name,
sprung up from red/rusty soil.
They are my creation I have created beauty out
of my distress, the plant whispered as in awe.
My children, must shade them from the hot sun
and bitter winter rain. Vanity be gone, and see,
on its naked branches green leaves grew,
poem by Oskar Hansen

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No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Leaves Turning Grey
Like a carcass lays, an ancient tree,
he tried to pray, through celestial seas,
but his spirit flew just like a bee.
Everyday he gazed at crying clouds,
the wind through his branches was so loud.
He looked for listening ears
as he stood in a sea of tears.
O tree, do you still wade?
Why have you lost your will to change?
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots have lost their range.
But how can one ask for help,
when you're not helping yourself?
And so this tree founded on sand,
with the wind tumbled to land.
He's an arboreal fool,
in a world that pulls
his heart and blood apart.
O tree, you've lost your blood,
your dead branches lay in the mud.
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots in such ground won't stay.
poem by Soren Valentine

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Don’t be an uprooted Tree
Seed is sown and the embryo is formed
Legitimate or not, radicle develops into root
Root penetrates into the surface of the soil
Absorbs water and food, turns seed into plant
Inherits the culture of the earth beneath.
It’s in root science that, it moves in
Right direction to fetch the exact need.
Stem gives the support and balance to stand
Branches form the vitality of the plant
Leaves prepare the food to survive
Bearing even odds the plant grows into tree.
As long as deep roots embraces mother earth
The tree shows confidence and attracts.
Location and depth are the might of the tree
Flower, fruit, shade, firm soil, H2O and CO2
Vary from tree to tree, but all owe to root
Never there is an existence beyond this means.
Still human trees surrender under the pressures
Try to get uprooted from the surface and means
Hoping for better flower, fruit, soil and breeze
Truth is, an uprooted tree, a timber, put to ablaze.
-vidi-
22-04-08
poem by Vidi Writes

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Like A Butterfly
Who are you that hold me up
When I am weak?
I think that you are a tree
And I am the wind
That blows through your branches
Tingling when touched...
Your leaves soften the breeze
That knows no relief
From the ceaseless momentum
Of life that began
Like a wafting butterfly
Sailing in the sky!
©All Rights Reserved-2011
poem by Romeo Della Valle

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When Tree Branches Rub Against The Roof
When tree branches rub against the roof
the small bulbul runs past
during the afternoon hour
to the pool where it dives and rolls,
stretches out wings and shoot them out straight,
walking boldly up and down
stretches out wings,
stretches out wings
as he walks to and thro.
When tree branches rub against the roof
a light breeze blows,
while the sun burns hot as fire
and the neighbouring child calls
when the afternoon comes with its peace,
with thoughts from the past
when the afternoon comes,
when the afternoon comes
and sometimes I forget the present.
When tree branches rub against the roof
birds peck around everywhere
while moments are lingering
as leaves blow to the ground,
and I think of God as if He is here,
while the shades bring a kind of tranquillity
and I think of God
and I think of God
and find some deeper meaning to life.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Sprinkle Your Love
The glazing sunshine
Afternoon
Under that tree
Tree with dry leaves
Visible roots
Dry earth
Give me water
To drink
And sprinkle your love
On the bareness of my heart
The sky and some patches of white clouds
I stretch
Hold my hands
The hands dry like the branches of that tree
Hold my hands
For these hands
May grow some leaves
And fruits
Like the hope
I have
From the tree
My love
Do not despair
There is blood
Still running in my veins
poem by Sadiqullah Khan

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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

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The Willow Tree
In the graveyard stands a willow tree,
You can hide within its branches,
And it will keep you safe,
And it will keep you warm,
And it will keep all your demons at bay,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
As I look out through its branches,
I see people crying for their loved ones,
Tears rolling down their faces,
I want to shout to them,
And let them in here with me,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
But I can’t, I can’t let them in,
Even though I know their suffering,
Because it’s the living that hurt you,
And I don’t want too be hurt anymore,
So only my dead friends are in here with me,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
The willow tree.
poem by Darren Harris

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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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The Ring of Stars
In order to make a star with five branches
Where six would have been the same
A circle must first be drawn
In order to make a star with five branches ...
A ring!
One did not take so many precuations
In order to make a tree from many branches
Trees that hide the stars
Trees!
You, full of nests and song birds
Covered with branches and leaves
That you lift as far as the stars!
poem by Robert Desnos

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January Morn
Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow. Like heart and soul in every man
who let their light grow ever dim
a spark still burns low within
longing to burst forth, to shine again.
Like bare branches on a January morn
don't feel cold don't feel forlorn.
Our Heavenly Father like warm spring sun
like gentle warm wind
when called upon
will make each light burn bright again.
poem by Nelda Hartman

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October Girl
I married an October girl
but met her in December's cold,
I remember well
that winter of our meeting
you could not say that it was swell
that frosty first time greeting.
I saw her a second time
October in the spring
when light shone from her face
and joined with my light within;
she blew a gentle breeze
with freshness in her haste
to meet again the man
who previously in December
she had not seemed
so keen to chase.
She blew into my life in spring
through summer and the fall
and swirled around the boughs
of my many outreaching branches,
until she bared me of all the leaves
I'd grown throughout my life
and pointed to the roots of me
that held me strong in strife.
October is a blustery girl
with many winds of change
sometimes with an angry squall
that bares wintered teeth
with lightening storms of rage,
but I never did meet a girl
with such a warm embrace.
I married that October girl
we married in the spring
and as I wait to see
what summer's breeze may bring
I know that October's girl
will shine her light within
as I soar up so very high
upon October's wind.
poem by David Taylor

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Spring Song
dirge of fallen leaves
under my feet tickle my toes
tender green smiles
a koel
perched on
a dessicated tree
cooes lullabys
to fledgelings in the nest
dry branches camouflaged
weary traveller
looks up in hope
through the dry branches...
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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The Kite-Part 1
I once was the kite, a beautiful, flying kite
I soared the sky, I dipped and swooped with all of my might
You were the tree, my tree, growing tall inside my yard
Growing tall and healthy, your strength mighty and hard
One day, unknown to all as to why, I got stuck
Stuck on your highest branch, freedom was no luck
The longer I was there, the more entangled I became
Tighter and tighter, knotted in my prison-like game
With every sharp wind, from every sharp word from you
I wrapped around more and more, as your ugly words blew
A tangled mess so bad, I was left atop this tree
This relationship tree I once depended upon, now traps and keeps me
Through storms of bad fights, your emotional wind blows
I get whipped and battered, around in knots my life goes
During angry weather, my body gets ripped and beat
Thrashed against this tree, where branches were my treat
The shade the leaves offered me, when the days were bright
Now is dark with mystery, keeping in secret the life of my kite
I am still there, for all to everyday see, although my color is gone
Faded and weathered, ripped and torn, endlessly trapped, I hang on
Oh how I want to be that flying kite again
Guided and held by trusting hands of way back when
To fly high and be free, through the sky I would go
How and why my flights changed, I might never know
poem by Deborah Cromer

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Autumn (Tree)
The last leaf of summer falls
A tear of summer past.
Winter is coming, darkness calls.
Getting earlier, night arrives fast.
Insects no longer fly,
As frost starts to lie.
Coating the ground in blankets of white,
All bare the tree stands still in fright.
Through empty branches, the wind blasts,
The wood remembers summer last.
When all was green and not yellow,
When summer’s breeze kiss was mellow.
Only a few months, the tree must hold
For spring will make it bold.
With new leaves growing, new to old,
Summer arrives, arms to unfold.
poem by Ben Littlechild

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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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Nature' S Kindergarten
Deep, blue sky,
Overcast
With clouds white.
Gentle breeze
Kissing the branches, trees, leaves
And the nascent buds in between
Caressing
The concrete crust.
Stronger it blows
Trees take to the floor
Branches conduct the choir
White to grey
Synergy high
Bang the floor
Dance
To tunes of thunder
Lightening strikes
In the milieu
Pours the virile
The entire show
In silence bids bye.
poem by Sanjay Mehta

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The heart of a tree
With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett

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