The Peach Farmer's Heart
I look up
and I climb
and I dropp the flowers
from the peach tree
one by one.
I'm sorry
my dear flowers
but I have to do this
'cause I'm hoping for
a golden harvest
and I need not
all of you
but some.
I look up
and I climb
and I dropp the flowers
from the peach tree
one by one.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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City Of Peach
Flowers, flowers
peach flowers everywhere
in the mountains and lowlands
of the city of peach.
How lucky I am
to see this beauty everyday
and that's because
I have not given up
I struggle to survive
the cold and lonely winter
of this city of peach.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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The Peach Tree On The Southern Wall
The peach tree on the southern wall
Has basked so long beneath the sun,
Her score of peaches great and small
Bloom rosy, every one.
A peach for brothers, one for each,
A peach for you and a peach for me;
But the biggest, rosiest, downiest peach
For Grandmamma with her tea.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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To His Two Children
In the land of Wu the mulberry leaves are green,
And thrice the silkworms have gone to sleep.
In East Luh where my family stay,
I wonder who is sowing those fields of ours.
I cannot be back in time for the spring doings,
Yet I can help nothing, traveling on the river.
The south wind blowing wafts my homesick spirit
And carries it up to the front of our familiar tavern.
There I see a peach tree on the east side of the house
With thick leaves and branches waving in the blue mist.
It is the tree I planted before my parting three years ago.
The peach tree has grown now as tall as the tavern roof,
While I have wandered about without returning.
Ping-yang, my pretty daughter, I see you stand
By the peach tree and pluck a flowering branch.
You pluck the flowers, but I am not there
How your tears flow like a stream of water!
My little son, Po-chin, grown up to your sister's shoulders,
You come out with her under the peach tree,
But who is there to pat you on the back?
When I think of these things, my senses fail,
And a sharp pain cuts my heart every day.
Now I tear off a piece of white silk to write this letter,
And send it to you with my love a long way up the river.
The Old Peach Tree
Under the old peach tree
Hearing the buzz of bees
Looking up at pink blossoms so sweet
Watching pink petals fall at my feet
Under the old peach tree almost fallen down
I can hear every sound as the sun goes down
I hear somewhere the song of a mocking bird
The sweetest song I ever heard
As I lean against the old peach tree
I think of things that used to be
This old tree brings me back to my childhood
And the many peaches I ate that were so good
Old peach tree I wish you could talk
Whisper to me some of your thoughts
But instead you fill my heart with your beauty
As I smell the perfume of your blossoms so fruity
I wonder how much longer you'll be here.
How much longer my heart you'll cheer
I hope to lean against you many a spring
And feel the peace that you bring.
poem by Grace Riffle

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The Ripest Peach
The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!
She looms aloft where every eye may see
The ripest peach is highest on the tree.
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!
I may not reach here from the orchard grass.
I drink the sunshine showered past her lips
As roses drain the dewdrop as it drips.
The ripest peach is highest on the tree,
And so mine eyes gaze upward eagerly.
Why -- why do I not turn away in wrath
And pluck some heart here hanging in my path? --
Love's lower boughs bend with them -- but, ah me!
The ripest peach is highest on the tree!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen's Flowers
During the month of April
Tree after tree in full bloom;
Mauve flowers, pushing out in plenty,
With copper pod yellow flowers on top
Here and there - taller, larger trees.
A solitary bread-tree flaunts its pretty leaves,
Bunch of bell-tree flowers intruding through;
Nearby a frangipani tree with white-streaked red flowers
Bougainvillae and railway creepers on the fence
Along the pavement where I walk.
Line, color, motion, light and shade
Thrill me: what my eyes see each moment
Constitute a better painting than
Any of the greatest of Masters.
Alas, it is evanescent!
13th April 2007
Bandra-Kurla.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

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I Say There's A Tree, A Horizon
Big tree
right outside my room
tell me when your flowers will bloom
big tree
a wars'a comin soon
this war'll bring you alotta doom
big tree
spread your leaves and fly
cuz you dont wanna be here when your flowers die
big tree
uproot yourself and run
run from the bullets and run from the guns
war
from the oceans to the land
no more water to fill your hands
flowers
I'll try to water you
but theres salt in my tears and that jus' wont do
big tree
they dont understand
that what they do effects your land
big tree
by you I've made a bed
and I ask you how this war moves us ahead
big tree
my friend whats the cost
if only they could see the faces of the lost
pinecone
shaped like a grenade
the grass where you lay is all I could save
big tree
where have your sisters gone?
to make more boxes to lay flags on?
big tree
where have your brothers gone?
to make more boxes to carve names on?
poem by Chris Osterbrock

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Flowers - Giving It All Away B-side
Renegades and shifting shades
And the lights in your face
And you friends talk lying
But some of them got flowers in their room
When its on and youre falling on every floor
That youre hoping to score
And youre every night ? ? ?
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
Hear the word that the man on the stairs
Knows your every affair and is holding your hand
And he says some of them got flowers in their room
And he screams in a face
But the smile on the face is cool and its cold
And it reads vacated
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And I take someone home and I cant be alone
And theres faces to please and I walk on the knees
Oh you see, I got no flowers in my room
And I laugh with my mouth and I laugh with you
But the joke was a joke that I never really knew
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remembering the Springs at Ch’ih-chou
Peach-tree flowers over rising waters.
White drowned stones, then free again.
Wistaria-blossom on quivering branches.
Clear blue sky. The waxing moon.
How many tight-coiled scrolls of bracken,
On green tracks where I once walked?
When I’m back from exile in Yeh-lang,
There I’ll transmute my bones to gold.
Rain-tree
Rain-tree
The rain-tree is of cassia family -
Like an elephant it stands on the road, clothed
With thick green foliage, dark against the sky
All along the Bandra-Kurla road in Mumbai.
You have to exert a little and see
Over the top to see the nazuna-type
Of pink flowers sitting above the foliage
In plentiful numbers, with up-thrust pink hairs.
Unlike the African tulip in front of ONGC
At Bandra Flyover visible from the distance,
Here the pink and green does not show off
As rain-tree flowers don’t advertise themselves.
Unlike copper-pod’s bright yellow flowers
The rain tree flowers don’t weave a carpet:
I’ve never seen the flowers on the ground below
Nor do they wither on the tree, how I wonder!
In monsoon rains, the leaves shine specially,
Transparent drops falling on walkers below,
Or with a thud on the racing car bonnets too,
Some choose to fall on road to rise a bit upwards.
I have not understood why it is called rain-tree:
Are they attracted, peacock-like, to the rain-clouds,
Or does the rain-bird which drinks water straight from heavens
Prefer this tree, and inspire Kalidasa to write Meghdoot?
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

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Peach Grove Next To Abbatoir
Next to an abbatoir
grows a peach grove.
The former has screams.
The latter is silent.
The slaughterhouse
stinks of blood and urine
and solid waste.
The peach grove is fragrant.
The slaughterhouse yields
a maximum 1000 pounds an acre of
food.
The peach grove yields in
trilevel agriculture four hundred
fifty thousand pounds an acre.
The slaughterhouse is labor
intensive and causes many worker
injuries and deaths.
The peach tree requires nothing
but a seed beneath dirt. The sun
and rain and mother earth
do the rest.
The slaughterhouse food causes
cancer, heart disease, food
poisoning, kidney failure, arthritis,
food poisoning fatalities.
The peach grove is God-designed.
poem by Saiom Shriver

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My Tree
Don't pick my apples
Don't pick my peaches
Leave my tree alone
This is not my money
This is not my car
This is not my world 2
What labels me a star?
CHORUS:
This is my tree, my tree
And I ain't never gonna let U climb me
This is my tree, my tree
And I ain't never gonna let U climb me
Can't a man have secrets?
Can't a man have love?
Can't a man have an attitude?
Or is it all or none?
I don't know what U want
CHORUS
Watch me dance
This is not my woman
This is not her race
Color shouldn't matter
If your soul is in the right place, right place, ooh
CHORUS
Yo, Robin Power's on the mic now
Pumpin' a steady jam, but this ain't a battle
N.P.G. is in the house 2 rattle your brain 2 the new idea
Love's the only drug we're doin' here
Love's the only drug we're doin' here
We doin' it hard! (Hard!)
N.P.G. is in the house and we're just gettin' started (In the house, yeah)
And on the way, I'll preview all the days 2 come (Mm-hmm)
We got a big bad drummer who got computers on the run, oh yes it is
Got computers on the run
N.P.G. in the house (N.P.G. in the house)
N.P.G. in the house (N.P.G. in the house)
Yeah
If U're lookin' 4 [it then]
Look in your own backyard
Plant some peace flowers in your war zone
So I can fire my bodyguards
This is my tree (CHORUS {x5})
No, U ain't climbin' me
I ain't never gonna let cha climb my tree
That's right
Funky, funky, but we got 2 slow this down
Yo, Robin Power's on the mic now
And I'm comin' from a positive place
Uptown James, let's get ready 2 turn this papa out
Yo boy, turn this mic up
I want them 2 hear what I got 2 say
Testing, 1 2, testing, 1 2
It ain't loud enough baby, turn it up
Prince? Prince?
Yo, I don't think U heard me
U got 2 slow this down
Did U hear me? (This is.. this is..)
Yo, yo, slow it down (This is.. this is..)
(This is.. this is my tree)
Yeah
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: the Drumstick Tree
The drumstick-tree I thought was dead and gone
Is fully clothed by green leaves and flowers;
The bees are active and some fruits are born;
The tree awaits August’s Monsoon showers.
I see the tree growing so fast each morn;
My eyes perceive not the blossoming act;
How well does Nature heal its parts much torn;
Human beings are blind with eyes- the fact.
So, numerous small birds visit the tree,
To eat the flowers that gets dropped nearby;
The tree makes the backyard look so lovely;
Some Millipedes remain and will not die!
The tree looks resurrected, simply great!
God gave a new lease and a newer date.
7-31-2000
poem by John Celes

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The Beautiful Camellias
The camellias bloom in Winter when the skies are cold and gray
When the sun shines at it's weakest and the Spring seems far away
Each tree an individual by the shade of flowers they bear
An avenue of camellias of one shade of flowers more often than not rare.
In shades of pink and creams and reds the colours one might name
Each is an individual for no two look the same
The beautiful camellias resplendent in their flowers
They bloom in lawn and garden on Winter's coldest hours.
In late fall in Victoria in the Southern Hemisphere
The flower buds on camellia tell Winter days are near
And before the wattles come to bloom towards the end of July
The flowers on the camellia tree lose their petals and die.
The beautiful camellias bloom in the cold winter showers
And long before the southern spring they will have lost their flowers
And on June's coldest and wettest day great beauty I can see
A mass of pink flowers blooming on the green camellia tree.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The Spring Wind And The Peach Farmer In The Farm
Spring wind
why do you have to blow
so hard?
Are you angry with me?
Don't you want me
to remove the peach buds
from this peach tree?
Spring wind...
Okay, you win
I'm going home
I'll come back tomorrow
when your anger is gone.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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Night Jasmine- Tree of Sorrow
Mild, balmy breeze,
Hauntingly fragrant
With Night Jasmine.
A small evergreen tree,
Twinkling
With ivory white flowers
In my garden,
Resplendent at night,
Like the star
Studded sky.
Before the day breaks,
The tree silently sheds
Its crowning glory
On Mother Earth’s breast.
To pay homage
In all humility.
Overcome with wonder
I find myself ponder,
As I gather the flowers
In my wicker basket
On my way to the temple.
To offer
To the deity
At the altar.
Oh, Harshingar,
Why are you
Called
The Tree of Sorrow?
Night Jasmine is called Harshingar and Paarijatta in India its
A sacred tree, grown in temples. Flowers are offered to the deity in the temples. there are many myths associated with it.
poem by Mamta Agarwal

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Heralds of spring
A warm evening
Traffic buzzes over
An endless highway
The bare kesu tree sighs happily
As white storks alight
Folding noiseless wings
Orange flowers bedeck
Winter-stripped branches
Storks rest, nodding at the hardy tree
As birds return to colder lands
This humble tree, flowers early
To herald the onset of spring
Note: The humble and hardy Kesu tree [Coral/ Butea Monosperma] is commonly found on roadsides in India. Kesu flowers are bright orange or purple, with long and thick petals - look like semi-spiralled daisies!
poem by Anita Atina

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Do you know My Dear?
Do you know My Dear?
The dew dropp that does not fall on the ground,
The mysterious dropp that surrenders inside the flower,
The dream dropp that hangs at the tip of a leaf,
The retiring dropp that collects at the edge of the eye,
It is nothing but the remains of our silent conversation!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan

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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan

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