The Oak And Its Branches.
An Oak, with spreading Branches crown'd,
Beheld an Ivy on the Ground,
Expos'd to ev'ry trampling Beast,
That roam'd around the dreary Waste.
The Tree of Jove, in all his State,
With Pity view'd the Ivy's Fate;
And kindly told her, She should find
Security around his Rind:
Nor was that only his Intent,
But to bestow some Nourishment.
The Branches saw, and griev'd to see
Some Juices taken from the Tree.
Parent, say they, in angry Tone,
Your Sap should nourish us alone:
Why should you nurse this Stranger Plant,
With what your Sons, in time, may want;
May want, to raise us high in Air,
And make us more distinguish'd there.
'Tis well -- the Parent--Tree reply'd;
Must I, to gratify your Pride,
Act only with a narrow View
Of doing Good to none but you?
Know, Sons, tho' Jove hath made me great,
I am not safe from Storms of Fate.
Is it not prudent then, I pray,
To guard against another Day?
Whilst I'm alive, You crown my Head;
This graces me alive, and dead.
poem by Mary Barber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jupiter And Fortune.
Once Jupiter, from out the Skies,
Beheld a thousand Temples rise;
The Goddess Fortune all invok'd,
To Jove an Altar seldom smoak'd:
The God resolv'd to make Inspection,
What had occasion'd this Defection;
And bid the Goddess tell the Arts,
By which she won deluded Hearts.
My Arts! (says she) Great Jove, you know,
That I do ev'ry Thing below:
I make my Vot'ries dine on Plate;
I give the gilded Coach of State;
Bestow the glitt'ring Gems, that deck
The fair Lavinia's lovely Neck;
I make Novella Nature's Boast,
And raise Valeria to a Toast;
'Tis I, who give the Stupid, Taste,
(Or make the Poets lie, at least);
My fav'rite Sons, whene'er they please,
Can Palaces in Desarts raise,
Cut out Canals, make Fountains play,
And make the dreary Waste look gay;
Ev'n Vice seems Virtue by my Smiles;
I gild the Villain's gloomy Wiles,
Nay, almost raise him to a God,
While crowded Levees wait his Nod.
Enough--the Thunderer reply'd;
But say, whom have you satisfy'd?
These boasted Gifts are thine, I own;
But know, Content is mine alone.
poem by Mary Barber
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The Willow Tree
In the graveyard stands a willow tree,
You can hide within its branches,
And it will keep you safe,
And it will keep you warm,
And it will keep all your demons at bay,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
As I look out through its branches,
I see people crying for their loved ones,
Tears rolling down their faces,
I want to shout to them,
And let them in here with me,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
But I can’t, I can’t let them in,
Even though I know their suffering,
Because it’s the living that hurt you,
And I don’t want too be hurt anymore,
So only my dead friends are in here with me,
I like the willow tree,
It sets me free,
And safe within its branches it cradles me,
The willow tree.
poem by Darren Harris
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No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The Divine Tree
In my mind I see perched upon a rocky hill
Standing firm a silhouetted tree so strong and still
Its roots extend well below the turf
Reaching deep to the centre of the earth
Its sprawling branches stretch in a canopy above
High into the sky to heaven where there’s much love
This tree is magical and a symbol for us to see
As it bears fruit, good things given by divinity
Of love compassion, peace and self awareness
To visualise the tree is a privilege I confess
But all can see if they search enough
Even though the mist at times make viability tough
The wind of your thought in its branches whisper through
And brings forth its fruit for those that stay true
And if sometimes when you try to climb to its branches on high
When life seems touch and you really have to try
The branch it may break and then you may fall
But the tree will still stand it stays there for us all
And then you must try once again you see
Each time you get further higher in the great tree
And each time you make a higher ascent
You get higher into its canopy to Heaven sent
The Strange Tree
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
There’s a strange tree which topples me,
For this strange tree was tall, you see,
And then this tree would use its knee,
To break in three, the clouds who flee.
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
The northern tree, its branches free,
The southern tree, no limb to see,
For this strange tree, was strange, you see?
There’s a strange tree which I can see,
And this strange tree (against my plea)
Was sent to sea, its roots now free,
And now this tree… A ship is he.
End.
Dads Cherry Tree
There was a large cherry tree in my yard
This tree t’was my dad ‘s favorite
And as the cherry tree grew up to thy sky
He did have a decision
whether or not to chop the tree down
Or risk it falling and killing him
For you see this old cherry tree did
Stand right over his bed
So if the wind kick up or lightning did strike
Would be his end for
The tree would fall and he would go
So unfortunately with the tree
So he would make great decision
And hopefully make it right
It took him many years and many a time
He thought’s the did spite
Him for the year’s went by and the cherry tree
Got more demised, nearer to the bed
As he would lay and begin to wonder
Will this take off my head
So as the year the did expire
Then He finally said
I will take the old tree down
Above my own bed
And the so alas the cherry fell
The tree would breathe its last
And be cut down to stump and be
Safe for dad once again
The tree was made low and the branches did go
Right into the meat smoker
But out of the ash cloud grew another
through the thorns and choker
the tree did live on in another a tree that grew
and so the tree was reborn
from a cherry, the trees great fruit
and so this little sapling grew and it grew
and it grew 1,2,3 foot by the crowing of the year
and so it grew and it got taller
as a little sapling then might or would do
and the tree got no smaller
as it grew to be as tall as dad and it was
staring him in the eye
he said we got to dig this up
look at the size
for you see the little sapling was right in my garden
and blocking the sunshine
so we dug and dug and dug
it took a lot of time
but finally we got up pulled it out of the ground
and moved to better spot
were it would live in peace and harmony
the place we set was not to hot
But it was not to cold either, it was
It was a nice spot with all
of the tree for the young cherry’s company
the tree grew very tall
And with it happy position that there was
it was a great sight
To see this cherry tree again live
And never have to fight
Now when my dad he did see this
he was so overjoyed
He had his cherry tree’s son and offspring
And never again did he toy
With planting or cutting down old cherry trees
He loved his tree so dear
That he would be indeed collecting all the cherries
And never wrong was he steered
poem by Timothy Young
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Sonnet: Nature Heals Itself
Just when I thought the tree was surely dead,
New leaves began to sprout up once again;
And soon, it wore a green crown on its head;
It had been resurrected by the rain!
Dumb-founded, astonished, perplexed I stood!
The tree that was deemed dead now was alive;
A canopy of green covered the wood,
And made me happy for the tree was live!
What a remarkable feat of Nature!
Impossible a task, it had performed;
Never underestimate her stature;
If left to man, the tree would have been harmed.
Thou art thine own healer, Nature Mother!
Can a human do than thee much better?
poem by John Celes
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Shake The Tree
Id love to take this lying down
But the world we know has lost its crown
All night talk n jazz cigarettes
Is never gonna change this killer town
I see her walking
In perfect time
She gives me reason
To carry on
Round the corner comes salvation
Made to order is what you found
Why oh why do we fool ourselves
Is it just the need to carry on
I see her walking
In perfect time
She gives me reason
To carry on
Shake the tree you find
Shake dont cut it down
Glamour takes its toll on you
Throw away whats out of view
Pearls of wisdom hang around your neck
They warm to the touch of your perfect skin
High, high, high, high
High, high, high, high
I see her walking
In perfect time
She gives me reason
To carry on
Shake the tree you find
Shake dont cut it down
Shake the tree you find
(I see her walking in perfect time)
Shake dont cut it down
(she gives me reason)
To carry on
I see her walking
In perfect time
She gives me reason
To never say die
I see her walking
In perfect time (shake)
She gives me reason (the tree you find)
To never say die
Shake the tree you find
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Disgarded Garden
Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.
As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.
Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.
This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.
poem by Sarah Barron
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Leaves Turning Grey
Like a carcass lays, an ancient tree,
he tried to pray, through celestial seas,
but his spirit flew just like a bee.
Everyday he gazed at crying clouds,
the wind through his branches was so loud.
He looked for listening ears
as he stood in a sea of tears.
O tree, do you still wade?
Why have you lost your will to change?
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots have lost their range.
But how can one ask for help,
when you're not helping yourself?
And so this tree founded on sand,
with the wind tumbled to land.
He's an arboreal fool,
in a world that pulls
his heart and blood apart.
O tree, you've lost your blood,
your dead branches lay in the mud.
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots in such ground won't stay.
poem by Soren Valentine
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The Green Bay Tree
'Where is the place of their first fond meeting,
'Where, oh where, is that green bay tree,
'Under whose cover
'The maid and her lover
'Plighted their troth and their constancy?'
O the winter nights were bleak and dreary,
The storms of summer were fierce and free;
Its trunk is shattered,
Its branches are scattered,
O! withered and dead is that green bay tree!
'Where are the lovers who courted its shadow,
'Where, oh where, may those fond ones be?
'The troth which they plighted,
'How is it requited-
'Say, have they forgotten that green bay tree?'
The lover was fickle, and would not remember;
He met with another more fair than she;
For her-broken-hearted,
Her peace hath departed,
The maiden doth fade like the green bay tree!
poem by Charles Mackay
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The Living God
There is no death with Thee! each plant and tree
In living haste their stems push onward still,
The pointed blade, each rooted trunk we see
In various movement all attest thy will;
The vine must die when its long race is run,
The tree must fall when it no more can rise;
The worm has at its root his task begun,
And hour by hour his steady labor plies;
Nor man can pause but in thy will must grow,
And, as his roots within more deep extend,
He shall o'er sons of sons his branches throw,
And to the latest born his shadows lend;
Nor know in thee disease nor length of days,
But lift his head forever in thy praise.
poem by Jones Very
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Sonnet: My Moringa Tree
My life too looks like the Moringa tree,
That continues to live amidst its foes;
The sun Tho’ good, scorches mercilessly;
The wind and Milliepedes are its main woes.
And every time it puts forth leaves so green;
And boughs that grow rapidly all over;
The wind trims down its size to make it lean;
Big branches break; so does the crown-cover.
The Millipedes attack relentlessly;
Within a few days time, it turns leaf-free
The sun joining the fray, blazes the tree;
Except the rain, behave all ruthlessly.
The tree however, refuses to die!
And grows again most luxuriantly and high.
7-8-2000
poem by John Celes
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Knowing Of A Tree
It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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On Tree
Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather
satisfied with me. I Looked at TREE.
What if anything do I knoe about TREE.
It used to be a thing made out of wood, always tall,
with branches near the ground. Roots fingering the ground.
Life comes up somehow to TREE. Water cascades down to ground, seeping slowly into ROOT. ROOT transmogrifies
the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.
People still tell me, Tree just cannot live.
There is no real feeling in TREE.
There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.
People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.
I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.
He Makes all the TREE begin, upon a distant planet,
Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.
And every meadow of his earth.
The ONE who gave me birthe the second time around.
The ONE who gave me TREE.
And Time to write this down.
poem by Charles Hice
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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
All rights reserved
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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My Sycamore Tree
A rainbow appeared across the sky
Like a promise
A covenant
Shinning on high
I waited and watched Making sure I could see
Climbing the branches of my sycamore tree
A star shone bright
Symbolizing
Signifying
The importance that night
Men followed it
As I watched happily
Sitting atop my sycamore tree
A white dove descended from the clouds
With a voice
And a light
Amazing the crowds
Water and word
I watched and thought of what it could be
From the tallest branch of my sycamore tree
From a tree like mine a cross was formed
Spitting
Beating
Some laughed while others mourned
I knew there was something I could do
But I was afraid of what would happen to me
So I stayed put, hanging on tight to my sycamore tree
Three days later a butterfly appeared
Alive
And vibrant
Then to my tree it finally neared
It seemed as though it was speaking to me
Speaking of life eternally
So I followed the butterfly as far as I could see
Then I quickly climbed down the branches
Joyully leaving my sycamore tree
poem by Emily Caudill
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The Fable of Dryope - Ovid's Metamorphoses Book 9, [v. 324-393]
She said, and for her lost Calanthis sighs,
When the fair Consort of her son replies.
'Since you a servant's ravish'd form bemoan,
And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own;
Let me (if tears and grief permit) relate
A nearer woe, a sister's stranger fate.
No Nymph of all OEchalia could compare
For beauteous form with Dryope the fair,
Her tender mother's only hope and pride,
(Myself the offspring of a second bride)
This Nymph compress'd by him who rules the day,
Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey,
Andraemon lov'd; and, bless'd in all those charms
That pleas'd a God, succeeded to her arms.
'A lake there was, with shelving banks around,
Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown'd.
These shades, unknowing of the fates, she sought,
And to the Naiads flow'ry garlands brought;
Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she prest
Within her arms, and nourish'd at her breast.
Not distant far, a wat'ry Lotos grows,
The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs
Adorn'd with blossoms promis'd fruits that vie
In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye:
Of these she cropp'd to please her infant son,
And I myself the same rash act had done:
But lo! I saw, (as near her side I stood)
The violated blossoms drop with blood;
Upon the tree I cast a frightful look;
The trembling tree with sudden horror shook.
Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true)
As from Priapus' lawless lust she flew,
Forsook her form; and fixing here became
A flow'ry plant, which still preserves her name.
'This change unknown, astonish'd at the sight
My trembling sister strove to urge her flight,
And first the pardon of the nymphs implor'd,
And those offended sylvan powers ador'd:
But when she backward would have fled, she found
Her stiff'ning feet were rooted in the ground:
In vain to free her fasten'd feet she strove,
And as she struggles, only moves above;
She feels th' encroaching bark around her grow
By quick degrees, and cover all below:
Surpris'd at this, her trembling hand she heaves
To rend her hair, the shooting leaves are seen
To rise, and shade her with a sudden green.
The child Amphissus, to her bosom prest,
Perceiv'd a colder and a harder breast,
And found the springs, that ne'er till then deny'd
Their milky moisture, on a sudden dry'd.
I saw, unhappy! what I now relate,
And stood the helpless witness of thy fate,
Embrac'd thy boughs, thy rising bark delay'd,
There wish'd to grow, and mingle shade with shade.
'Behold Andraemon and th' unhappy sire
Appear, and for their Dryope enquire;
A springing tree for Dryope they find,
And print warm kisses on the panting rind.
Prostrate, with tears their kindred plant bedew,
And close embrace as to the roots they grew,
The face was all that now remain'd of thee,
No more a woman, nor yet quite a tree;
Thy branches hung with humid pearls appear,
From ev'ry leaf distils a trickling tear,
And straight a voice, while yet a voice remains,
Thus thro' the trembling boughs in sighs complains.
''If to the wretched any faith be giv'n,
I swear by all th' unpitying pow'rs of heav'n,
No wilful crime this heavy vengeance bred;
In mutual innocence our lives we led:
If this be false, let these new greens decay,
Let sounding axes lop my limbs away,
And crackling flames on all my honours prey.
But from my branching arms this infant bear,
Let some kind nurse supply a mother's care:
And to his mother let him oft be led,
Sport in her shades, and in her shades be fed;
Teach him, when first his infant voice shall frame
Imperfect words, and lisp his mother's name,
To hail this tree; and say with weeping eyes,
Within this plant my hapless parent lies:
And when in youth he seeks the shady woods,
Oh, let him fly the crystal lakes and floods,
Nor touch the fatal flow'rs; but, warn'd by me,
Believe a Goddess shrin'd in ev'ry tree.
My sire, my sister, and my spouse farewell!
If in your breasts or love, or pity dwell,
Protect your plant, nor let my branches feel
The browsing cattle or the piercing steel.
Farewell! and since I cannot bend to join
My lips to yours, advance at least to mine.
My son, thy mother's parting kiss receive,
While yet thy mother has a kiss to give.
I can no more; the creeping rind invades
My closing lips, and hides my head in shades:
Remove your hands, the bark shall soon suffice
Without their aid to seal these dying eyes.'
'She ceas'd at once to speak, and ceas'd to be;
And all the nymph was lost within the tree;
Yet latent life thro' her new branches reign'd,
And long the plant a human heat retain'd.'
poem by Alexander Pope
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Sons Of The Pioneers
(myles goodwyn)
Published by northern goody two tunes, ltd./capac - ascap
Reachin for a space in time, layin our fate on the line
Starting out a life anew, after weve come so far
Wont you look and see now, here we are
You were the ones, there is no doubt
You ate it up and spit it out
You were the ones, you made it clear, you could take it
We are the sons of the pioneers (we are the sons of pioneers)
The day has come, our fate is clear
Were the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Were not afraid to try (were not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear
Whats the point of going on, if you feel that it couldnt be done
Cause I just wanna understand, freedoms the soul of a man
Wont you look and see now, and show me how
We have the chance, there is no doubt
Well pick it up, and see it out
We are the ones, you made it clear, we can take it
We are the sons of the pioneers (we are the sons of pioneers)
The day has come, the way is clear
For the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear......................fear
When you think of how far weve come, and to know that weve only begun
Leaving us a legacy, makes sense to me
That now our time has come, for we have to move on
You were the ones, there is no doubt
You ate it up and spit it out
You were the ones, you made it clear, you could take it
And now its time, our fate is surely here now
There is no doubt about it, its time we thought about it
We are the ones, the way is clear, for the sons of the pioneers
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afriad of fear
Is there any doubt, none at all, they heard the call of the
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid to try (men not afraid to try)
Sons of the pioneers (sons of the pioneers)
Men not afraid of fear
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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