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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Related quotes
Blossoms and My Love
The unusual winter warmth,
Has brought the spring fever in the nature and in my heart,
The pink, purple and white blossoms are blooming all around,
just reminding me of your warm and sensuous loving heart.
How can I compare your beauty with the spring blossoms?
In red blossoms, I see your luscious red lips,
In white blossoms, I see your beautiful body,
The purple blossoms, reminds me of the depth of your eyes,
Closer I get to the blossoms,
closer I get to the God's intricate creation,
Closer I get to your loving affection,
closer I watch the heavenly smiles on your lips.
Under the blossoming tree I walk,
the fragrance fills my love yearning heart,
When I hug you with my sincere love,
your sweet 'I love you' words, fills me with eternal love.
poem by Jay P Narain
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Life Blossoms into vitality
Petals blossoms into flowers,
Clouds blossom into rain,
Seeds blossoms into trees,
Minutes blossom into hours,
Bricks blossom into dwellings,
Anger blossoms into destruction,
Exuberance blossoms into newness,
Nervousness blossoms into exhaustion,
Teamwork blossoms into unity,
Perseverance blossoms into success,
Beauty blossoms into enchantment,
Intrigue blossoms into enigma,
Trends blossom into innovations,
Eggs blossom into fledglings,
Rose blossoms into scent,
Sun blossoms into optimism,
Stars blossom into radiation,
Soil blossoms into vegetation,
Art blossoms into exoticism,
Ice blossoms into waterfalls,
Fire blossoms into compassion,
Imagination blossoms into concepts,
Wine blossoms into sedation,
War blossoms into hatred,
Pearls blossom into resplendence,
Dreams blossom into floatation,
Fashion blossoms into style,
Roots blossom into stem,
Salt blossoms into tanginess,
Strength blossoms into fortitude,
Resilience blossoms into conviction,
Surrender blossoms into despair,
Truth blossoms into harmony,
Relationships blossom into empathy,
Violence blossoms into prejudice,
Discrimination blossoms into bloodshed,
Scalp blossoms into hair,
Love blossoms into passion,
Peace blossoms into solidarity,
Rainbow blossoms into vivacity,
Endeavor blossoms into sweetness,
Tunes blossom into songs,
Mind blossoms into ingenuity,
Wilderness blossoms into mysticism,
Flames blossom into ardor,
Corpses blossom into ghosts,
Retreat blossoms into sadness,
Bondage blossoms into rebel,
Faith blossoms into worship,
Infidelity blossoms into nemesis,
Idiosyncrasy blossoms into nothingness,
Spiders blossom into webs,
Benevolence blossoms into humanity,
Independence blossoms into character,
Renunciation blossoms into divine,
Introspection blossoms into discovering,
Emotions blossom into yearning,
Death blossoms into extinction,
And life blossoms into vitality…..
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Spring Blossoms
The blossoms dance on the breeze
drifting along like snowflakes
across my windows.
Some are pink and some are white
lazily they drift
on the currents of the breeze
underneath a simmering sun
the spring blossoms that I see.
Like fluffy feathery down
rising up towards the heavens
and the back down they come.
Tiny parasols drifting
across in the breeze
on a sunny day
the spring blossoms that I see.
29 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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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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Fruitless blossom
There were women at different ages
At different stages, with different shades,
Responsible for my springs and blossoms.
They remained as blossoms and withered.
Trees send blossoms in every spring and
Fruits later, though less in proportion.
Women of mine gave me only blossoms
Which fed my nose and left my stomach.
19.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Orange blossoms on a tree
Orange blossoms on a tree
catches my eye,
where it stands alone
in the inner city
and there’s a blinding bright sun
that is already hanging quarter height
in a cloudless sky.
It’s Wednesday and half week
and it’s spring with green leaves,
trees full of blossoms
and almost summer
because the sun’s bright rays
are already early hitting my eyes
There’s a woman with a pink blouse
and purple skirt,
that crosses the street
and are not looking out
for the oncoming cars and taxis.
Doves crowd around a man
that throws pieces of bread
on the ground next to him,
at the art museum
and the sun is now rather
bright white than red.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ocean of Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
In spring Earth is a Beauty;
Flowers smile with gaiety.
Cuckoo sings with delight;
Mother Vinapanee attracts the devotee.
Cosy blossoms smile on the tree;
On the trees birds are free.
Golden sun beam kisses the blossoms;
Welcoming mother beauteous blossoms bloom.
Vernal Breeze blows from South;
Peasants, poets enchant with mirth.
Fraternity reigns in all creatures;
Lovers enchant with profound pleasure.
Adorned with green robe the bride smiles gaily;
Tiny birds twitter delightfully.
With profound pleasure women perform duty;
Children go through books with gaiety.
Intellectuals swear to serve the society;
Scientists enchant with gaiety.
Poet’s pray sweet lovely Mother;
She contents their desire.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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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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The Twins
One 's the pictur' of his Pa,
And the _other_ of her Ma--
Jes the bossest pair o' babies 'at a mortal ever saw!
And we love 'em as the bees
Loves the blossoms of the trees,
A-ridin' and a-rompin' in the breeze!
One's got her Mammy's eyes--
Soft and blue as Apurl-skies--
With the same sort of a smile, like--Yes,
and mouth about her size,--
Dimples, too, in cheek and chin,
'At my lips jes _wallers_ in,
A-goin' to work, er gittin' home agin.
And the _other_--Well, they say
That he's got his Daddy's way
O' bein' ruther soberfied, er ruther extry gay,--
That he either cries his best,
Er he laughs his howlin'est--
Like all he lacked was buttons and a vest!
Look at _her_!--and look at _him_!--
Talk about yer 'Cheru-_bim_!'
Roll 'em up in dreams together, rosy arm and chubby limb!
O we love 'em as the bees
Loves the blossoms of the trees,
A-ridin' and a-rompin' in the breeze!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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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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Springtime Breeze
An errant breeze
Carried the sweet scent
Of Honey locust blossoms
My attention caught
I raised my head
To inhale deeply
And I thought
“how many people
Walk in beauty? ”
And never even
Raise their head
To seize
The Spring…
the blossoms…
The scent,
Of honey locusts blossoms
Carried on
An errant Springtime breeze
poem by David Whalen
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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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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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Sweet death
After spring there are many Jacaranda flowers
that lies purple at my feet,
while the trees shed
their beautiful blossoms.
Like the sweet blooms
that die,
I know that I
have but a short time
to spent in this life.
There’s a sweet perfume
that rises from the road
where the scattered flowers lie,
before it disappears
with the new rain
and I wonder if my words and deeds
will be a blessing for a time
when I am gone?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blooming
Spring already
Flowers blooming
Birds humming
Sing their sweet
Sweet song
The air
Full of blossoms
Blooming flowers..
Blooming plants…
Blooming love
Spring is clean..
Spring is fresh…
Spring is that new beginning
We pray for in the end
poem by Alexsis Daniels
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Morning breeze
Sun shine enters followed by
Cool breeze through the window,
Kingdom of sleep comes to end
Some string pulls head from pillow.
Feel of morning cool breeze
touching the body, soul wakes.
Thunder of memories of night cooled
on flow of dreams, putting brake.
Trees have worked whole night
now singing lullaby before go to rest.
Leaves are swaying and dancing
as some one shaking holding hands.
Reach passing through woods, orchards
mountains, sea and meadows
with sweet, salty, whiffed cool touch
wane blossoms and faces glow.
Blooming blossoms swaying say
good morning to kissing sun rays.
Whispering breeze performs prayer
in the temples and the churches.
Chirping birds swing their wings
to welcome and embrace the breeze.
Celestial cool touch pierce the soul
thoughts for a while freeze.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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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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Sweeter Than Wine
The Almond flowers,
With buds and blossoms from my lover;
How sweet is the entrance of your tent?
Braided chains of pure gold,
The apple of your sweetest love;
With pure incense of sweet spices.
On one branch,
On one's love,
With buds and blossoms from her taste;
An Olive Oil from her light to share with you like,
That of her skills and abilities.
Your sweet love crowns the night,
In the midst of her mountains with love;
This is my deisre towards her.
Her love is sweeter than wine,
See how her breasts feed among the Lilies;
Of the Almond flowers,
Refresh me with your sweet apples my love;
You are so beautiful among women my love,
Your sweet aroma of the Almond flowers fills my soul.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In California During the Gulf War
Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,
certain airy white blossoms punctually
reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink--
a delicate abundance. They seemed
like guests arriving joyfully on the accustomed
festival day, unaware of the year's events, not perceiving
the sackcloth others were wearing.
To some of us, the dejected landscape consorted well
with our shame and bitterness. Skies ever-blue,
daily sunshine, disgusted us like smile-buttons.
Yet the blossoms, clinging to thin branches
more lightly than birds alert for flight,
lifted the sunken heart
even against its will.
But not
as symbols of hope: they were flimsy
as our resistance to the crimes committed
--again, again--in our name; and yes, they return,
year after year, and yes, they briefly shone with serene joy
over against the dark glare
of evil days. They are, and their presence
is quietness ineffable--and the bombings are, were,
no doubt will be; that quiet, that huge cacophany
simultaneous. No promise was being accorded, the blossoms
were not doves, there was no rainbow. And when it was claimed
the war had ended, it had not ended.
poem by Denise Levertov
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