Que Sera. Sera
Beneath the trees like drifts of snow,
the dropping cherry blossoms fall.
It makes me sad to them go.
Like fleeting dreams beyond recall.
Their images I have safely stored
imprinted in my memory
I conjure up from my record
and once again I clearly see.
The spring clothed trees all pink and white
before the fruit begins to form
and I can marvel at this sight.
One miracle I can perform
Predict the future from the past
extrapolate and then forecast.
(Poeticpiers/May 07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Fashion sense for M'lady Ann Beard
The trees bedecked with blossom now.
Some clad in pink and some in white.
Contestants in the beauty show
which spring provides for our delight
The blossoms which adorn he trees
are unaware, they do not know.
That very soon the gentle breeze
will shake them loose to fall like snow.
The trees will don new coats of green.
More suited to the summer sun
than what the blossoms would have been
Their time has passed so they have gone.
When autumn comes the trees will know
its time to wear their winter clothes
In preparation for the snow.
The theme of winters beauty show.
Though seasons come and seasons go.
The trees adapt quite easily
for summers sun or winters snow
They’re sure to be dressed suitably.
29/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sakura Matsuri Cherry Blossoms in May
Sakura Matsuri Cherry Blossoms in May
Last night,
Listening to the raindrops
Pecking on the window pane,
alerting thought
celebrating spring
With lady goddess that makes
cherry trees bloom.
Night enters into day and
Immersed into the gay;
Garden exploes into patchs
Pink and white blossoms
sprinkling pink flakes for
adults and kids to take.
Cherry trees are expecting all…
Don’t you think so?
Pink floral carpet covers pathway.
Strolling under the floweral canopy,
Bloomed strung arm embraces, spraying
Squirts of fragrance on each that passes.
Almedia S. Knight (ASK)
May 2,2009
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Cherry trees with snow
Sparkling in the bright sun
Red covered in white
Pink blossoms did not survive
The premature death of spring
tanka by Vega Destiny Star
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Choka Sonnet
nature’s beauty show.
near Tokyo in the spring
guaranteed to please.
avenues of cherry trees.
soft spring breezes blow
setting pink blossoms dancing
on the cherry trees
their sweet perfumes they release.
lovers stroll below
unaware completely free
to just wander to and fro.
all that they can see
their own private paradise
where the blossom never dies,
10-Apr-08
Choka sonnet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self
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Moonlight Magic for friend Konstantin
Moonlight magic
cherry blossoms pink and white.
springtime beauty show.
satisfies my appetite..
a beautiful sight.
softly the breezes blow
thus creating tricks of light.
at night the moonlight
adds to my delight
the blossoms seem to glow.
it is my birthright
I can come and go.
I choose to visit by night.
to enjoy the sight.
wander to and fro
in ecstasies of delight.
night: my favourite
why, because I know
the cherry blossoms pink and white
will be bathed in silver light.
Tankanelle a form devised by Board Flak
Parameters
The first stanza 7/5/7 syllables
The next four stanzas 5/5/7 syllables
The final stanza is 5/5/7/7
The opening line is repeated as the first line of the closing couplet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Glorious Spring Blossoms
I drove to town this sunny morning
And right before my eyes
I saw that spring was here
It was a glorious surprise
The trees were huge plumes of pink
Like fluffy cotton candy to me
Others were white like puffy clouds
They were spectacular to see
I love the spring when dull trees turn
Whether by God or Mother Nature
It shows tomorrow has such promise
With spring blossoms sweet and pure!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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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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The Blossoms On The Trees
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue,
Purple, pink, and every hue,
From sunny skies, to tintings drowned
In dusky drops of dew,
I praise you all, wherever found,
And love you through and through--;
But, Blossoms On The Trees,
With your breath upon the breeze
There's nothing all the world around
As half as sweet as you!
Could the rhymer only wring
All the sweetness to the lees
Of all the kisses clustering
In juicy Used-to-bes,
To dip his rhymes therein and sing
The blossoms on the trees--,
'O Blossoms on the Trees,'
He would twitter, trill, and coo,
'However sweet, such songs as these
Are not as sweet as you--:
For you are blooming melodies
The eyes may listen to!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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There Was a Cherry-Tree
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy --
As when you were a boy.
There was a cherry-tree. The Bluejay sat
His blue against its white -- O blue as jet
He seemed there then!-- But now -- Whoever knew
He was so pale a blue!
There was a cherry-tree -- our child-eyes saw
The miracle:-- Its pure white snows did thaw
Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet
But for a boy to eat.
There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and joy!--
There was a bloom of snow -- There was a boy --
There was a bluejay of the realest blue --
And fruit for both of you.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A Kentish Garden
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
And lovely leisure blossoms every day.
There, tall and white, the sceptral lily blows;
There grow the pansy, pink, and columbine,
Brave hollyhocks, and star-white jessamine,
And the red glory of the royal rose.
There greeny glow-worms gem the dusky lawn,
The lime-trees breathe their fragrance to the night,
Pink roses sleep, and dream that they are white,
Until they wake to colour with the dawn.
There, in the splendour of the sultry noon,
The sunshine sleeps upon the garden bed
Where the white poppy droops a drowsy head
And dreams of kisses from the white full moon.
And there, some days, all wild with wind and rain,
The tossed trees show the white side of their leaves,
While the great drops drip from the ivied eaves,
And birds are still--till the sun shines again.
And there, all days, my heart goes wandering,
Because there, first, my heart began to know
The glories of the summer and the snow,
The loveliness of harvest and of spring.
There may be fairer gardens; but I know
There is no other garden half so dear;
Because 'tis there, this many, many a year,
The sacred, sweet, white flowers of memory grow!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Sun Is Out And Shining
The sun is out and shining and there's warmth in the breeze
And the weather rather pleasant around 21 degrees
And pink blossoms on the fruit trees and the wild birds chirp and sing
on this the first day of September and of the calendar Spring.
The poetess is out walking and a song is in her head
And she will write a poem this evening before she goes to bed
Her dedication to September her favourite month of the year
When Spring spreads her green beauty in the Southern Hemisphere.
The lovely golden whistler his song one can't mistake
In backyard on the mirror bush he whistled at daybreak
I'd like to think he piped for Spring though naturalists tell me
That the only reason birds sing is to defend their territory.
The sun is out and shining and Spring is in the air
And blossoms on the fruit trees and parks and gardens wear
Their green cloaks of September and there's warmth in the breeze
And the weather temperatures quite pleasant around 21 degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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First Snowfall
The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness follows the squall.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Pristine White
I see my Bradford pear trees
with blossoms pristine white.
Each year they become lovlier
to my ageing sight.
They started out small some years ago
and have reached an unbelievable height.
So round and full they stand up tall
and welcome birds by day.
The birds with different colors
create a glorious display.
However a serious flaw to these trees
always makes me pray.
If while in bloom there comes a storm,
they break apart easily.
And all the beauty they've given
can come apart for me.
So while I can, their pristine white
I keep in my memory.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Snowy Sunset
Snow Snow on the ground
Sun is sinking down down down
Trees trees covered in Wight
People gasp at the sight
Snow Snow on the ground
Animals scurry all around
Snow Snow in your hair
Stiffness and cold in the air
Snow Snow on the ground
People sledding down down down
Hot Coco and coffee inside
Why not go for another sled ride
Snow Snow on the ground
The sun has set past the ground
Lights light up the city bright
People every where say what a sight
poem by Miranda Will
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Purple Cherries
Fragile pink cherry blossoms
fall
that there be sweet purple
cherries in the fall
and each cherry seed
can make the world cherry treed
*********
inspired by muse
MuKaKo MuKaMo
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inspired by Issa - Cherry Blossom Fall
cherry blossoms fall
our heart warms up
to spring
inspired by
toward the mouth
shouting 'Look! Look! '
cherry blossoms fall
-Issa,1825
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Cherry Blossoms
pink cherry blossoms
smell sweet and beautiful
small and delicate they are
oh so calming and soft
are my pink cherry blossoms
poem by Zooey Lichty
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