Two beneath a shady tree
They were two beneath a shady tree cover
An old oak tree with blistered trunk and bark failing over
Like the hand of an old man with frail eyes
Yet leaves and fresh sprouts from its boughs shot to the skies
An old sturdy oak tree under summer sun
In mid of golden wheat clustered by the wind run
The waves of the wheat heads combed by gale and breeze
As the two set and made themselves at calm ease
They set and watched the golden field swaying in dance
The broken roar and the dim din of a remote city at horizon glance
She was beautiful and shy like a violet by a mossy wall stone
She set by him hidden and through his eyes she was only his own
They set beneath the tree, their life yet untrodden path
They spoke the first verses of love with joy and laugh
What was to come they knew not; merely the glory of that hour to bear
since they were innocent and pure; the masters of the days that were
They gathered roses from the field while they may
Unaware of old time that was still to carry them flying
A world so harsh where love grows and fleets away
They fell to play losing no time in grieving and sighing
And so they sat beneath an old oak before the sun in dusky skies
veiled his fair locks of child hair while he did spy
The unclouded luster that dwelled in her slaying eyes
Her bashful beauties once descried
The vanquished flowers around lost their pride
And in their vermilion buds their blushing they did hide
Losing their balmy fresh summer smell
They would never admit or tell
How much her sweets by far their own did excel.
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Related quotes
To dream her
Is it a dream or is it a scene
Is it a phantom only in my imagination seen?
Do I see her shadow in the forest’s gloom?
When the moon is in its nightly orbit loom
The sun has long sunk in the dusky skies
To veil its fair glories while I spy
The unclouded luster of her eyes
Her bashful beguiling beauties once descried
The vanquished roses lose their pride
And in their thorny leaves their blushes hide
Myrtles have lost their balmy girdle
And dropping lilies seen sadly to tell
A melancholic story how much her sweets their own excel
Watching her withdraws into the forest dark my soul pauses in pray
For the light breaks out and goes away
And I am on the look for the vanishing ray
But once she gone the lilies their heads rear
And with fresh balmy scents perfume the air
When the glory of their rival is not there
Again grown bold and proud the spreading rose
Its blooming buds does disclose
And into the vaulting skies its incense throws
..
..
I languish at her beguiling charms when she drew nigh
But if she disappears again I will die
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Morning Spring
The foul mist has been replaced in the greening plain,
And the dew-drops shine on the ear lop of a balmy rose, not rain,
The coquette rose awakes facing East again
Its lovely self adorning in such fresh scent morning with no strain.
Oh, the vast plain is grassy, untamed wild and bare
Wild, wanton and wide open to the morning air
Which has built up everywhere
Making the little rabbit to the meadow tread and dare
upon the far horizon blue peaks in the distance rise
And ivory white against the cold sapphire sky
Shine out of the crowing crests of snow
Beneath their line the bushes stretching in a dominant grow
The morning wind is hiding, sighing, dodging among the trees,
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, of glee, not tears
The sun is rising in bright dusk skies
Veils his fair head of glory while contently he spies
This morning it is my love unclouded luster of her eyes
Her beauty shines as nature does; and once it descried
The jealous vanquish roses lose their bursting pride
And back into their home buds their blushes hide
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
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My Oak Tree
My taste for love is what I long,
The secret so full and free
My heart of love beats every day
Because of this Oak Tree
The beauty of its leaves, we seldom admire
Oh Creator Lord to thee
How foolish our paths would have been
If it wasn’t for this Oak Tree
How quickly this seed germinated
Our eyes could hardly see
I treasured every moment
Beneath this Oak Tree
As little children we play and hide
How sweet are those memories to me?
The games we played, the jokes we shared
Beneath this Oak Tree
I would never forget this Oak Tree dear
For she is very dear to me
It matters not how grey I get
For my Mother is that Oak Tree
I watched this tree as the leaves got dry
The limbs begin to break
I fell to my knees, and begged the Lord
“Please don’t you this Oak Tree take”
Lord, if this tree should bend its head
I dread that day to see
May time give way to that glorious day
When we meet in eternity.
poem by Troy Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I stand and watch a tree of sturdy oak
I stand and watch a tree of sturdy oak
It braves against the rain, the sun and the gust
Thunder roars through its boughs with blast
Yet its leaves whitening in sight like a royal cloak
An oak proclaims against echoing dunes and scourging sun
Through the storm, tempest and chilly damp dark
Its boughs wave against torrents and bent in arcs
As it stands against the events like a calm nun
The clouds above its foliage are straining
The pale yellow woods around its trunk are waning
And a broad stream by its roots is complaining
Of heavy low skies constantly raining
With one black self reflected shadow at its feet
the oak through all its lush foliage shines
As summer haze brooding heat
And holy still silent in its dusty lusty vines
Oh I wish I had the strength and stamina of this oak
My life would be so much in a better clock
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The Rainbow Of Sounds
This twilight sky
Is like an indigo-orange symphony,
In which the light is absorbed
To be decomposed in corpuscles.
It may be ours until we die.
I may be your tree-woman, a Ginkgo,
That Ginkgo having a stony trunk
And pure violet spiritual eyes
To look at you,
While the leaves are trembling
Their green sound.
Slowly, you may become my tree-lover-man,
While a star in the universe is dying for our love.
I may feel that force aspiring the quanta of light
Near you.
Come and be my black infinity,
While this earth is cracking its crust
From time to time
And especially now
As at any end of the time.
Wind is your embrace,
Next to this field of Nepal poppies trembling their hypnotic
Red melodious shadow
And near this ripe wheat field
Loudly shaking its tired yellow.
The wind is crazily singing and dancing around.
I seemingly hear some astral blue songs.
It's like a jazz blues chord progression.
Our leaves cling to its long hair.
I feel the rainbow of sounds,
I feel this love.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The winds
From the meadows her walks have left a balm so sweet
That whenever summer wind wilts and sighs
It sets the jewel print of her lovely feet
In violet blue hue as her slaying eyes
To the woody hollows in which we hide and meet
And the heavenly valleys of daunting Paradise
A slender bird in foliage high, his wings would not shake
One long white bloom of a tall sturdy tree
The white bloom reed fell bending into the fresh lake
As the pimpernels dozed in the summer sun on the lea
But the rose was all night advocating her sake
Knowing my love promise to me
With the lilies they were all night awake
wondering what my love acts and takes will prove to be
Four winds blowing through the bright sky,
My heart is heavy with forlorn love
You have seen poor me under the burden of love I die,
No remedy from the mountains around or the heaven above
I asked the winds: Tell me then what I shall do
That my maiden love may be honest, virtue and true.
Shall I be stern with her to the haughty
Or shall kisses and sweet talks will sway the maid so naughty
Oh, sighed the spring wind from out the South,
'Lay a kiss upon her voluptuous mouth, '
And the winter grumpy wind from out the West without mercy or taste,
'Wound the heart within the lovely valley of her breast, '
A prompt protest came from the summer wind from out the East,
'On the contrary! Send her a banquet of a lavish feast, '
With disdain and mockery breaths the autumn wind from out the North,
Exclaimed: 'In the tempest winds thrust her forth;
Shall I be cruel and harsh as she
Then her love will pacify and relent to be kind to me
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There will come
There will come upon the earth, calm spring time
When soft rains fall and raise the adores of wet ground
And flowers leap and bloom into their prime
As the swallows circle and bounce in vast meadows, shimmering sound
And no one will know of my time under the sun
And no one will reflect or contemplate of my days, not one
Not even one would mind, neither happy bird on a bough tree
That I have perished; erased diminished with no memory utterly
Come red black Robins and wear your feathery fire,
Whistling your whims on a low summer wind stirring fence-wire
And fat oily frogs in a garden pool, sing your rhythm all night
And tree heavy with late season foliage play the wind that turn you white
The world will go on as we do when an acquaintance dies
We hurry to burry and move as if it never concerns our fates; blinding our eyes
Oh that first Spring after death, herself when she wakes at dawn
Minding her course would scarcely notice that we were gone.
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You turned from me
Remember me as I was back then
As a precious memory of comfort in time of agony and pain
You have turned from me; but I always see
The beautiful maid laughing by a flowering spring tree
With the slaying eyes that made the air around so bright
Under shaking, flickering stars of warm hazy summer night
Hands were touching hands
Love grew slowly in such timid shy trend
You have turned from me; but I always remember
The bursting laugh against the night dew of early November
That one careless night of youth and laugh
While outside the spangled reeds in the silver moon did bath
For me, that night is the only night I have
Such a precious jewel against hard times in my heart I save
And how about you? in shine or in sorrow
How far did that splendid night in your heart grow?
You have turned from me time passes for long
The years were harsh leaving me forlorn without a song
I dare you never will see
What time and years have done to me
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Banyan Tree
Banyan tree, banyan tree
that century old banyan tree
standing grandeurly for us to see
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Cool breeze passing through
seeking blessings of banyan tree
branches shaking in approval
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Glassy green with majestic trunk
touching the earth, not breaking free
shelter home for different birds
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Yellowish streaks, some with reddish tinge
welcome every season with a glee
symbol of eternal life
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Shedding leaves, like tears falling
a grandfather lamenting on its knees
new plants cuddling around
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Lord Buddha became its buddy
meditation was the only key
peace you get underneath
that is why it is banyan tree.
Banyan tree, banyan tree
wish fullfilling, it is banyan tree
just pray here and let you see
Banyan tree, banyan tree.
A life giver and just for free
Banyan is my national pride
preserve these at any cost
don't commit a homicide?
God blessed us with banyan tree
heat absorbing banyan tree
has healing powers this banyan tree
banyan tree, banyan tree.
---- X -----
copyright/Children of Lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
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poem by Tribhawan Kaul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under An Oak Tree
The leaves of my soul crunch beneath my feet
With the many pieces of me
They all collapse without the other half
Wind telling them secrets
The flowers singing them songs
But all of them horror
Saddened lies and deceit
The sent of a green tree so sweet and desirable
Just stands behind me to protect his prize
A rose gently swaying in the breeze
If carefully picked she might know how to please
Then yet again like a man of waves and fire
A man of stone and beard
Once said all women are like snakes
Not all snakes are venomous
But all snakes are deadly
I am different
And this he sees
Very easy to please
All I want is to laugh
To smile and to give
This he does
The wind in my hair is so great
But I know the evilness it holds
The secrets it tells
Dares not to share them with me
Blowing the pages in my journal around
Like a teen to its mother
The fresh due tickling my finger tips
As if feathers trying to make me sneeze
Warming my cooled face
The reds and yellows spying into my eyes
To see what I’m dreaming about
I see as I open my eyes
I was just sleeping under the oak tree
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
The butterfly
I have watched a butterfly now a full half hour
So self-poised upon a yellow budding flower
And a huge winged butterfly with all rainbow colors indeed
I know not if it sleeps or it feeds
How in pure calm motionless it stands on leaf so thin
Even more still as it visits a stump pale with green
And then what joy waits it when the light breeze
Has found it out among the trees
It carried it up, down and away
A whole world on a spangled ray
This plot of Orchard-ground is ours
My son's trees they are, My family flowers
Stop here whenever you are jaded and worry
And take a rest in our green sanctuary
Visit our rich wreathe glorious foreheads of lofty pines
And breathe ambrosial passion from their veins
By the balmy flowers seek refuge from human eye
And smell their scent being shoot to the sky
Come often to us fear no wrong
Sit near us on a balmy bloom of a bough long
We will talk of sunshine and of song
And summer days long lost, for ever gone
When we were young and strong
Our days of youth vigor and rapture sealed in our memory’s throng
My fragile creature, stay, do not take haste your flight
A little longer stray around, delay in my sight
So many converses I have with you in a day bright
You are the historian of my infancy
With you around I can relive my fantasies
Float longer near me, do not yet depart
Tell me again the days of my childhood of lost heart
My sweet times in you I revive
Gay creature as you are to you I owe my strive
You bring solemn images of happy times to my heart
…..
These innocent days of sun and joy free of care
With no worries no burden of life to bare
How sweet, how pleasant were these days
The times when in our childish plays
Some giggling budding girls, few boys and I
Together chased you the flying butterfly
A very hunter did I rush
Upon my prey I leapt, I sprang, I fell
And the heavy odor of the trodden grass I smell
Oh that precious moment in me forever dwells
I lay on my back aloof and watched the sky
The thin gray cloud was spread on high
Sealed and carved in my bosom stone
Inside my very marrow bone
I got up and followed you from brake to bush
In open meadows in dales over brooks and creeks
As the sun of dusk sets behind the mountains peaks
But at the very last moment I feared to brush
The feathered dust from off your wings
This sweet joyful time makes my heart sink
Under huge broad-breast old oak tree lush and green
With trunk and boughs spread with bubbles skin
There under the tree in the warm summer day
I kissed a young maid with gems entangled in her hair
The day was not harsh no clouds in gray
The forest was in full foliage not bare
And the wind moaned soughing bleak
As I kissed her warm enthralling cheek
Yet there was not enough wind in the air
To move away the bright ringlet curl
From her lovely soft cheek
The swans’ lake flapped their wings
And trumped their shrieks in full beak to sing
And as I was sunk in this heavenly bliss
My eyes caught in swift a glance of the lovely valley of her breast
The smell of her silken robe and the scent of her inner vest
Shy and perplexed at her first maiden kiss
Painting in passionate pangs she looked for a liss
She folded her arms beneath her cloak
And she stole to the other side of the oak
At once into the summer air you bounced and flew
And took my joyous soul to fly away with you
Fly, Fly and tower into vaults of heights and heavenly bowers
Creature of sun and joy, wind and sky
My memories of past glory, my soul are with you even as I die
And return to us right after spring thundering showers
Guard yourself from the evil behind your magnificent wings
Hide yourself from the storm, the rain, and the howling winds
The forest gloom foster danger with deadly weight
which haunts us in some sad reverse of fate
Pass by lakes pores and ocean shores
Leap and rest on the back of cloudy rack sailing in ore
A child born out of his mother sweet womb
To turn into a hovering ghost over his stone tomb
Fly butterfly over earth and ocean with waving holy motion
Ride on winds that shake the dew drops that wake
The sweet budding spring flowers in balmy bowers
Carry these divine memories of joy and love to contend eternally with stars above.
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Golden Tree
In the dark late night she appeared
A golden tree dancing
Before a sky of azure blue
Somewhat purple hued.
Her branches grew haphazardly
Playing hide and seek with cirrus clouds.
Inside she prayed for rain to shine upon her.
Through a kaleidoscope she could read the songs
Of her wounded soul,
Although the approaching dawn was blackening.
Electric blue were the eyes of midnight.
Mistrustful, they hid behind a wall of deceit
This golden tree danced in the early morning breeze,
As she shivered to ward away the fallen snow.
She wept for all of the hurt through which she lived.
When she read the world through that kaleidoscope,
There were none but scattered shards of broken glass
“Dance and dance”
All tell this golden tree,
For she shall grow when the sun rains upon her gilded heart.
She is loved, in all her lustrous glory.
Red birds of ardor,
Robins with their breasts of copper,
And the new moss that grows upon her fragile trunk
Shall arrive within a vessel christened “springtime.”
She reaches out with agile limbs
To trees with silver branches
Swaying to and fro,
Dropping leaves with veins of woven silk,
That wilt with each and every touch.
In the dim moonlight when the air is bittersweet
There appears a golden tree that dances,
Far from where the rippling creek is crawling over
Gemstones dampened by the rain.
Against a sky of azure blue
Touched with purple hues
A lithe, dancing golden tree can be found
In any place, time or realm,
She could be you or me-
Perhaps anyone’s wounded soul,
Where its world seen through a kaleidoscope
Is none but a shattered dream…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The willow
How beautiful is the willow in April gown
Delicate and gleaming under the sun
Never minding the seasons and years gone
It stands, long flowery drippings and soft wind sigh
Spring does not call me as it use to
With sprouts in vast meadows and balmy flowers of variety hues
No more shall I renew myself with the world every spring
With heavy leafy boughs crowded with birds in sing
Willow, Willow sway, twinkle, lull in the sun
Your leaves, same leaves of my past days gone
Welcome me as the spring use to in wild laugh and fun
Oh let me answer the spring again for my days are still undone
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Let Me Wake Up Young
Let me wake up young at early dawn again
And welcome the showers of spring first rain
Let me love and peer up at the morning sun
With half shut eyes and comfortable fresh cheek
Let me live a sweet life tale full often to seek
Through meadows and pathless woods where rivers fall and run
Let me love again my brightest beautiful one
Of heaven and divine let me slowly speak
These love tunes to the night and the starlight meek
Or the moon, if that her hunting be begun
Let me know, let me relive these delights and be prone
To moralize upon a smile and a tear
And find at once a region in a world of my own
A meadow, a bower for my spirit where it will steer
To alleys of forest gloom where pine tree dropp their cone
Where foxes hide, robins chirp and leaves are fallen sere
Let me wake up in strength and vigor hope
Worship the morning, the mystic night, the light the shade and lush lea on slope
Let me glance again fresh on wide plains, fair foliage trees, and at sprouting flowers
Call on birds over clear streams, smooth calm lakes, and long stretched bowers
Let me lost in the happiness of pathless woods with tall towers
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My heart is heavy with fruits of love
My heart is heavy with fruits of love
Like clusters of ripe pomegranate fruit bearing down
The canopy branches of the tree
But I can never give you one from above
It is waxed and sweetened by the full sun as jewels crown
The fruits of my love do not belong to me; they are not free
Yet in the evening, at dusk twilight, I dare entreat you to hide low
When bats chase moths encircling wandering in lights glow
Under the crimson dusk skies’ pall
A fruit from the tree may slip and fall
And when in the gray hour it drops as lust’s prey
Would you take it? Hence no one will ever know or say
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An Evening Of Roses
An evening of roses scent comes to the world
As the wind beats the far mountains; it blows
More softly around the open grassy wold
Where the shy timid tulip hides as it grows
The evening is descending calm like a nun
When at the far sky the first star glows against lowering sun
This is when through waving silky hair in your exquisite ear
I shall whisper a song of love and cheer
And me this knowledge of evening so rare, bolder made
Or else I had not dared to fantasize and to flow
In these lines towards you, and invade
With this verse your peace or your holy woe
Listen to the holy music of the creatures night
The sounds of evening choirs so distilled and clear
As the moon climbs so slowly to its high orbit bright
You she constantly follows and persistent at you to peer
Come love to the garden of the balmy roses
The silver cheerful moon is at your command
Grape her, touch her by your extended hand
Before she reaches the mountains peak where she poses
In ever climbing up the up growing trees
All flowers wreaths come to rest at the top canopies
In silence withholding their secrets they are all in ease
Yet their plots and dreams in the forest have not cease
How sweet it is hearing the faint breeze among the trees
The soft inland murmur of downwards flowing stream
As the vivid water rise and fall among the outcropping rocks they tease
No where else you can contemplate such a beguiling dream
We shall sit beneath an old oak tree hear each other in love speech
As the moon shines and spreads her silver rays
We watch the crisping ripples on the pebbled beach
And the tender curving lines of forest sprout under light spray
Do not be so shy and coy to play your love part
In our time-beguiling art
This primrose bush on which we lean
Never can guess or deem what we mean
None of its buds can see or blab
The gaudy grasshopper is too busy after its pulp
And the heavy smug frog
Into the bottom lake after its prey plops
We can hide well behind the vermilion-veined tulip
On its flowery bed we can rest or sleep
The crowds of cowslip ahead never prattle
Nor their distinguished neighbor the shy myrtle
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Golden Wheat
Remember me when the South wind blow
Golden wheat, where the waves dance in row
Forget the emptiness and cold
Embrace love and the memories you hold
Remember me solemnly gazing for doe
Golden wheat, where waves dance in row
Entwined together on the greens we rolled
Embrace love and the memories you hold
Will you stay with me, as old we grow
Golden wheat, where the wave dance in row
Together we'll erase the world's toll
Embrace love and the memories you hold
South wind lover always know
Golden wheat, where waves dance in row
Bodies come together as if made in a mold
Embrace love and the memories you hold
My pledge to you from Heaven and below
Golden wheat, where waves dance in row
With my last breath our love will still unfold
Embrace love and the memories you hold
When we're gone I hope our descendants know
Golden Wheat, where waves dance in row
Feel the south wind, be it warm or cold
Embrace love and the memories you hold
poem by Rhonda Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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