The Blasted Fig-Tree
One aweful word which Jesus spoke,
Against the tree which bore no fruit;
More piercing than the lightning's stroke,
Blasted and dried it to the root.
But could a tree the Lord offend,
To make him show his anger thus?
He surely had a farther end,
To be a warning word to us.
The fig-tree by its leaves was known,
But having not a fig to show;
It brought a heavy sentence down,
Let none hereafter on thee grow.
Too many, who the gospel hear,
Whom Satan blinds and sin deceives;
We to this fig-tree may compare,
They yield no fruit, but only leaves.
Knowledge, and zeal, and gifts, and talk,
Unless combined with faith and love,
And witnessed by a gospel walk,
Will not a true profession prove.
Without the fruit the Lord expects
Knowledge will make our state the worse;
The barren trees he still rejects,
And soon will blast them with his curse.
O Lord, unite our hearts in prayer!
On each of us thy Spirit send;
That we the fruits of grace may bear,
And find acceptance in the end.
poem by John Newton

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A Tree's Fruit
Good fruit or bad fruit, a tree can only bear one,
This parable was taught by God's one and only Son.
First mentioned by John as a warning for the Pharisees to heed,
But being blind to The Truth, most of them would not believe.
Your life is the tree and your deeds are the fruit,
This is a simple analogy that it hard to dispute.
But the Pharisees who knew the Word and lived in the land,
Were rebuked by John the Baptist, as they didn't understand.
Christians need to produce fruit for the Lord and nothing less,
And all the fruit that we produce should be fruits of righteousness.
Our old nature will produce fruit that comes from the past,
Not only is this fruit bad, but it's the kind that won't last.
Not only is bearing good fruit The Lord's heart desire,
But trees that continue to bear bad fruit may be cast in the fire.
Within your own heart is where the good or bad fruit is stored,
And by your fruits men will know you, is made clear by The Lord.
The fruit of righteousness is a tree of life, was once said,
However, a tree that bears bad fruit may be eternally dead.
What fruit you produce is strictly your choice my dear friend,
And by this choice you will either be blessed or condemned.
( 03/2002)

Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard
What, barren here! in this so good a soil?
The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil
From giving thee his blessing; barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Art thou not planted by the water-side?
Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified?
The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree:
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too,
Will neither patience nor yet dressing do?
The executioner is come, O tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
He that about thy roots takes pains to dig,
Would, if on thee were found but one good fig,
Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be!
The utmost end of patience is at hand,
'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand.
O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree.
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Thy standing nor they name will help at all;
When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall.
The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree!
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
poem by John Bunyan

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The Barren Fig-Tree
The church a garden is
In which believers stand,
Like ornamental trees
Planted by God's own hand:
His Spirit waters all their roots,
And every branch abounds with fruits.
But other trees there are,
In this enclosure grow;
Which, though they promise fair,
Have only leaves to show:
No fruits of grace are on them found,
They stand but cumb'rers of the ground.
The under gard'ner grieves,
In vain his strength he spends,
For heaps of useless leaves,
Afford him small amends:
He hears the Lord his will make known,
To cut the barren fig-trees down.
How difficult his post,
What pangs his bowels move,
To find his wishes crossed,
His labors useless prove!
His last relief is earnest prayer,
Lord, spare them yet another year.
Spare them, and let me try
What farther means may do;
I'll fresh manure apply,
My digging I'll renew
Who knows but yet they fruit may yield!
If not--'tis just, they must be felled.
If under means of grace,
No gracious fruits appear;
It is a dreadful case,
Though God may long forbear:
At length he'll strike the threatened blow,
And lay the barren fig-tree low.
poem by John Newton

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Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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I Was Warned
God spoke to me a warning
“Go around that tree”
I looked at the options
and thought,
‘It must just be me.’
He spoke again and said so plain
“go another way”
I stubbornly persisted
and refused to obey.
It was just the still small voice
that God was teaching me,
to learn how to hear Him
and not go near that tree.
Just as I stepped under
that beautiful huge oak tree
I was really then, in wonder
how much the Lord does see!
A little bird was resting
somewhere up above
Poop fell and hit my leg
God warned me in His love.
That was so amazing
the knowledge that He has,
He knew when I would get there
what was waiting in my path!
I marvel at how much He knows
just like His word has said.
He knows when every sparrow falls
or if they’ll hit you in the head!
This is a true story
I was learning how to hear
and trust that the Lord can speak
and make His wisdom clear.
October 30,2005
poem by Ginny Alloway Baker

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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost

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Pluck A Plum Where There Is No Tree
PLUCK A PLUM WHERE THERE IS NO TREE
God who freed
from fruit the seed
can pick a pear
from a baby tree.
God who sired
the hallowed fig
does harvest fruit
from a barren sprig.
God made blooms pastel
and bright fruits
and can a kumquat take
from a tree of quince.
Who made Pluto and
the Pleiades
can pluck a plum
where there is no tree.
================================ =====
(to Senator George Mitchell
.. tireless worker for peace
in America and Europe)
The Sanskrit word for the Wish
Fulfilling Tree is Asritakalpalateeka.
It is spoken of in Revelation.. the
tree with 12 kinds of fruit.)
poem by Saiom Shriver

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Adam and Eve Apple Fantasy
I am bored Adam
I am bored Eve
Let's walk together in the garden
It is afternoon Adam
It is afternoon Eve
Our tummies are empty
Let's have something to eat
It is beautiful garden of Eden
How wonderful the fruit trees!
Adam look honey
This beautiful Apple tree
No Eve this is the knowledge tree
Look Eve there is sign in the sky
Can't you see?
Lord command 'Don't eat from the apple tree'
Ha Ha Ha
Who is that?
I am serpent of the garden
Listen Adam
Listen Eve
Go pick the big apple
from the tree
Adam my honey
Do you hear me?
My stomach is aching
go get me this delicious apple
Eve I would not disobey the Lord
Oh Adam
Oh Honey
You seduce me Eve
Ooh Adam
Ooh Eve
Something happened after
we ate the apple
Go Adam get some Fig leaves
Adam Let's rest
under the shaded tree
Adam let's have babies
Eve let's have off-springs
poem by Sherif Monem

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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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Love You Always Expect Love That Is Sweet And Enduring
we were once in love
i will not deny that
we make love almost every moment we look at each other
in the beach
in the camarin
in the house of your mother in the house of your friend
we like making love and we were content with what love is
for the time being
in the flesh,
we mature like some ripe fruits and we have no other option
like the fruit we fall
to the grounds of questioning ourselves
will this love be real even without the flesh
of the fruit?
will this love be true even without the leaves
of the trees?
will this love endure even when the tree is cut
because it will bear no fruit any longer?
i promise you love and i put the word there
forever,
but i never told you that there will be no pain
we compensate
we shall also be both broken......the sweetness shall not last longer,
but it is not the end yet, the sweetness shall linger in the memories
of our youth
when we wilt we shall be ready with our new seeds,
the rain shall make
the seeds grow again
time showers it with longings
and we shall now watch the flowers and the fruits
from a certain distance...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Eden No More
Oh why dose the
Teardrops fall
From above
It mourns the loss
Of Eden no more
Man and wife
The creator did make
In his own image
A miracle of love
Hand in hand
They nurtured the land
That God gave to thee
For prosperity
Amongst the beauty
The garden of life
There laden a tree
Baring the fruit
Of knowledge and life
One simple rule
That he gave to thee
Thou shalt not
Taste the forbidden fruit
From the apple tree
But alas there lived
Amongst the fruit
Of the tree of life
A fallen angel
That tempted mans wife
He convinced the maiden
To take one simple bite
One simple bite
That changed the rest
Of her life
The texture was crisp
And it tasted so sweet
A forbidden fruit
That was divine
To the taste
Its taste so sweet
She needed
To share the
Divinity that
Had fallen from
The apple tree
Said fallen to Eve
Take heed of my word
He will love you evermore
If you share this divinity with thee
Believing it to be so
Young Eve did show
Her husband the tender
Fruit from yon tree
The fallen just smirked
At how easy to sow
The seeds that will
Embellish mans fate
In the page's of time and history
poem by Kaila George

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Jesus, Do I Love Thee?
Jesus, do I love Thee?
Thou art far above me,
Seated out of sight
Hid in Heavenly Light
Of most highest height.
Martyred hosts implore Thee,
Seraphs fall before Thee,
Angels and Archangels,
Cherub throngs adore Thee;
Blessed She that bore Thee!
All the Saints approve Thee,
All the Virgins love Thee.
I show as a blot
Blood hath cleansed not,
As a barren spot
In Thy fruitful lot.
I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing;
Thou, righteous Judge unsparing:
What canst Thou do more to me
That shall not more undo me?
Thy Justice hath a sound—
Why cumbereth it the ground?
Thy Love with stirrings stronger
Pleads—Give it one year longer.
Thou giv'st me time: but who
Save Thou shall give me dew;
Shall feed my root with Blood,
And stir my sap for good?
Oh, by Thy Gifts that shame me,
Give more lest they condemn me:
Good Lord, I ask much of Thee,
But most I ask to love Thee;
Kind Lord, be mindful of me,
Love me, and make me love Thee.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Reservation For One
This is my tree, my tree, my tree,
My one lone tree, pear tree,
It grows, overflows, it grows it’s fruit,
Alone, only for me.
If I could go to a far-away place,
With just me and my tree, pear tree,
I’d pack my bags, my bags I’d pack,
I’d pick up my bags and flee.
There’s nothing at all, no nothing,
At all, that films me more with glee,
Than those globes, those globes,
Of precious fruit in my tree, pear tree.
I sit beneath, beneath I sit,
Its laden canopy, I polish it’s leafs then,
Set a table of fruits,
Of wine, and bread and brie.
This tree, my tree, could feed the world,
Find me a wife and camaraderie,
It’s powers, it’s powers are vast but I
Can’t pass on its secret sadly.
I’d tell the world, the world I’d tell,
If they weren’t all so hungry, you see.
But my fruit, my fruits, my laboured.
Fruits, I grew only for me, for me,
No none are as hungry as me.
poem by Suzanne Louise Bishop

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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince

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Arbor Amoris
I have a tree, a graft of Love,
That in my heart has taken root;
Sad are the buds and blooms thereof,
And bitter sorrow is its fruit;
Yet, since it was a tender shoot,
So greatly hath its shadow spread,
That underneath all joy is dead,
And all my pleasant days are flown,
Nor can I slay it, nor instead
Plant any tree, save this alone.
Ah, yet, for long and long enough
My tears were rain about its root,
And though the fruit be harsh thereof,
I scarcely looked for better fruit
Than this, that carefully I put
In garner, for the bitter bread
Whereon my weary life is fed:
Ah, better were the soil unsown
That bears such growths; but Love instead
Will plant no tree, but this alone.
Ah, would that this new spring, whereof
The leaves and flowers flush into shoot,
I might have succour and aid of Love,
To prune these branches at the root,
That long have borne such bitter fruit,
And graft a new bough, comforted
With happy blossoms white and red;
So pleasure should for pain atone,
Nor Love slay this tree, nor instead
Plant any tree, but this alone.
L'ENVOY.
Princess, by whom my hope is fed,
My heart thee prays in lowlihead
To prune the ill boughs overgrown,
Nor slay Love's tree, nor plant instead
Another tree, save this alone.
poem by François Villon

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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

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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
Strange Fruit
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves, blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar tree.
Pastoral scene of the gallant South
The bulging eyes, and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia, cool and fresh
And the smell of the burning flesh.
Here is the fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
So strange
So strange
song performed by by Sting

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forbidden fruit
tree of knowledge
i am the tree
and the fruits
yours to pick
praise and glory
yours to keep
much better
for me to stand
each leaf my gratitude
to you in helping me shine
the fruits they are
your success
i stand in your honour
in your praise
and dance to your plan
forbidden apple
it is in the sacred
corner of our hearts
the everlasting eden
sanctuary you share with us
yes the snake though
keeps slither
between us
lying that your fruit
is my own fruit
my own achievement
mine to keep and eat
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Beware of Satan, the Deceiver of the World
Satan deceives the world for long
As Gospel's truth aren't known to all;
He uses Christian rituals, rites,
Doctrines and laws to delude souls!
The evil spirit Satan thus
Enters the souls afilled with sin,
Pretending as Holy Spirit,
Duping even Christians with faith.
Satan can quote the scriptures well;
He uses name of Lord and God;
The Tempter is a ‘born' Liar;
And steals souls en way to heaven.
Receive the Holy Spirit then,
By knowing Gospel entirely;
And let Him dwell within always,
Enlightening your soul with grace.
False preachers in this world abound,
Who try to interpret the Word,
By creating ‘mass hypnosis',
And making people to convulse.
Loud hymns and intonations work
Illusions, magic, transient ‘cures',
Taking the minds and hearts to heights,
As if God has anointed one.
The Bible is the Word of God;
A heart with sin can't work like Christ;
Only a soul that's cleansed off sin
Can do the things, Jesus akin.
The Holy Spirit cannot dwell
In persons who have little faith,
In sacred words that Bible tells,
And live their lives as per God's Word.
A sustained life of prayer's first,
To follow foot-steps of Lord Christ;
A soul that's kept sin-free always
Can make the Holy Spirit stay.
The Holy Spirit dwells in those
Who have repented for their sins,
Renouncing Satan's pomps and works,
And never follow his vile ways!
No human act or endeavour
Can do miracles on one's own
But grace of God, prayer-obtained,
Alone can heal afflicted men.
For grace of God, strong faith is prime;
Fasting, prayers make life sublime;
Good deeds and charity are next;
All stem from love of Jesus Christ!
God sees the minds and hearts of men;
If body must be God's abode,
It should be freed of every sin,
And stay that way until one's death.
Beware of false teachers, prophets,
Who claim to see Jesus, Angels!
For, God was never seen by man,
From ever since the world began!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-09-2012
poem by John Celes

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