En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Face

The Face

On my walk along the old lane I came across a tree that
has on its trunk the outline of a sad pastry chef’s face,
of one who has just burnt his cakes; and has to open his
shop, now he had to rush out, buy up pastries in other
places; theirs, of course, will not be as good as his own,
but he got to have something to sell. He’ll grind up his
burnt cakes put the crumble in tiny paper bags and sell
them to children on their way to school, or old folks who
are going to the park to feed the ducks; ten cent a bag.
His wife’s fault, she came to the bakery - they haven’t
been married long- they kissed, canoodled; ok, we get
the picture. He has made it clear that she mustn’t upset
him during baking hours, he isn’t mad at her, not since
she told him she had a bun in the oven herself.
And the tree, it’s an olive tree- silvery in winter light- is
silent but there is a stir of a smile in the air.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marula tree trunk

Strong winds blow against the Marula tree trunk,
They come with miscellaneous objects,
Light and heavy,
And use them to break the Marula tree trunk,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,

Light and heavy rains come,
The Marula tree smiles,
For the plentiful rain water will make
It stronger and taller,

Animals come and sleep under and on top
Of the Marula tree,
Lean and rub their itching bodies
Against the Marula tree trunk,
Relieve themselves against it,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,

The human race use the Marula tree for shade
Against the merciless summer heat of the Limpopo sun,
And eat or make beer with Marula,
But, alas! One vicious human being returned,
And chopped it,
Off goes the faithless Marula tree trunk,
To be scorched by the everlasting home burning fires.

poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hex

The Hex.

Where the village lane meets the main road there was
an ugly olive tree that looked like two crippled old men
trying helping each across the road, petrified by cars,
I used to stop and talk to the tree old but still bore fruit;
now it has been chopped down and will end up as winter
wood. No. I’m not a tree hugger but it annoyed me that
it was cut down as it was not in any ones way.
An old woman came down the lane she had a long nose
with a big hairy wart on and a sack of twigs slung on her
crocked back. “Tell me dear woman, why was this tree
executed? “Because it was ugly looked like two old men
trying to help each other across the road”, she said and
toothlessly laughed.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Save My Style

[Chorus]
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God put a smile on my face
Haha, God put this smile on my face
God made me shine like the sun
God make me shine like the sun
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one
It ain't my fault
[Bridge]
I just reach for style, I'm hot I breaks it down
It ain't my fault, you can't break it down the way I break it down
[Verse 1- 50 Cent]
Listen you can call me what you want, black and ugly
But you can't convince me the Lord don't love me
When my cds drop, they sell the best
You call it luck, why can't it just be I'm blessed
I'm a trackstar, runnin' through life, chasin' my dream
?? I may even trade in a mic in for a triple beam
I zone off thinkin' is there really heaven or hell
So what happens to a changed man who dies in a cell
I need no answers to these questions, cuz time will tell
Got a date with destiny, she's more than a girl
Don't much good come from me, but my music
Is a gift given from God so I'ma use it (Yeaaah!)
[Chorus]
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God put a smile on my face
Haha, God put this smile on my face
God made me shine like the sun
God make me shine like the sun
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one
It ain't my fault
[Bridge]
I just reach for style, I'm hot I breaks it down
It ain't my fault, you can't break it down the way I break it down
[Verse 2- 50 Cent]
Some days, I'm in the crowd all by myself
Bunch of niggas around I'm still by myself
I'm drink off in the crowd, by myself
Thinkin' bout nothin' more than life, what else
These days its hard to tell who really cares for me
So you when hear this song, you should say a prayer for me
I put a message in my music, hope it brightens your day
If times are hard, when you hear it, know you'll be okay
A O.G. told me God's favorites have a hard time
You out the hood, that's good now stay on the grind
I'm a spunge, knowledge and wisdom, my ?? off fast
I'm in a class by myself, you do the math
[Chorus]
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God gave me style
God gave me grace
God put a smile on my face
Haha, God put this smile on my face
God made me shine like the sun
God make me shine like the sun
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one
Sometimes I feel like I'm the one

song performed by by 50 Cent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look at a tree

If you have a problem seek out a tree,
Look you idiot look and you'll see.
Open your eyes and open your soul,
Look at the tree look and you'll know.

See the sun glint through the leaves
See the bark the colours the light this weaves.
See the beauty look at the light,
Look and you'll start feeling alright.

Once now and then, Once in a while
Look at a tree, really look at a tree.
You will notice different colours as light falls on a branch,
This is not a mistake this is not by chance.
There is beauty and wonder in nature you see
Look at a tree look and you'll see.

poem by Scott Winter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Married to a Tree

I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as coarse
As thou, the bark
That stands still
While my bleeding heart
Doth dry up on your floors

I am married to a tree
Who sways to and fro carelessly
Who is helpless at the woes
Of the wind that causes much a storm
And leaves its menacing trail

For I am married to a tree
With grooves and dents
That frown with age
As I run my fingers down the seams
And am turned off by your despair

I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as damp
Like the leaves that blossom in spring
And die in the autumn, so sad
For I hope that winter will be forgiving

I am married to a tree
But the reason that I wait
Is for the birds that sing and chirp
And compliment the rays
For it is worth my time

I am married to a tree
As condemning as I may be
And selfish that I may seem
For I should commend thee
As you are as nurturing as she.

poem by Antoine La Najja
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Sun -de- Light

Sorry but i must be damn,
on this feastive,
to everyone's delight,

excuse me shorty, (son)
to the crush, of the crump
cake cheese,

money fall far from the trees must be,
earth sin,

if i can complain,
plant this seed next to this greenre,
i much say it with a rush.

and let the sun come to delight,
and say that you are peach, (the son)
to a tree, (mother) of course,

winter to season, you sparke a connection
sonnie that is all right! ! !
smile for the camera! ! !

(father) a son, we will have making luv to sun up to sun down...
and sonnie this the light of the watch your grandpa,
gave to me under this tree,
your grandmother, my mother first came to be
and know at this tree.

i call this Tree 'sun de light'....
Our family Tree.

poem by Louis Borgo
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Under The Laburnum Tree

(A simple tale)

Under the Laburnum tree
She saw his gentle face
Under the Laburnum tree
She knew their first embrace

Under the Laburnum tree
She gave to him her love
Under the Laburnum tree
Beneath the stars above

Under the Laburnum tree
He left her there to cry
Under the Laburnum tree
That`s where she chose to die

(Under the Laburnum tree
Were scattered all its seeds
Under the Laburnum tree
Amongst the growing weeds)

Under the Laburnum tree
The moon was shining bright
Under the Laburnum tree
Her silv`ry soul took flight

Under the Laburnum tree
At last she was set free
Under the Laburnum tree
She found eternity

poem by Valerie Dohren
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Le Jardin Des Tuileries

This winter air is keen and cold,
And keen and cold this winter sun,
But round my chair the children run
Like little things of dancing gold.

Sometimes about the painted kiosk
The mimic soldiers strut and stride,
Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide
In the bleak tangles of the bosk.

And sometimes, while the old nurse cons
Her book, they steal across the square,
And launch their paper navies where
Huge Triton writhes in greenish bronze.

And now in mimic flight they flee,
And now they rush, a boisterous band -
And, tiny hand on tiny hand,
Climb up the black and leafless tree.

Ah! cruel tree! if I were you,
And children climbed me, for their sake
Though it be winter I would break
Into spring blossoms white and blue!

poem by Oscar Wilde
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To A Silvereye

I see you almost every day you fly from tree to tree
And I envy you your happiness for you are wholly free
You tiny insect eating bird in olive fawn and gray
And I feel glad so very glad to see you every day.

No boss to order you around to tell you what to do
Wish you were me dear tiny bird and wish that I were you
For you have freedom in your wings the freedom of the sky
And I envy you your happiness dear tiny silvereye.

On garden tree and green hedgerow close to the homes of men
I see you almost every day you and your tiny kin
From garden tree to garden tree and to and fro you wing
And midst the leaves the sunlit leaves you preen and chirp and sing.

I see you almost every day from tree to tree you fly
And I envy you your happiness the freedom of the sky
And I've a wish a secret wish when my turn come to die
That I will come to life again a tiny silvereye.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The boy and the apple tree

Once there was a boy who used to play under an apple tree
He played so happily that it was a joy to see
As he grew old, he got bore of playing alone
Toys and gadgets he desired to be his own

So, under the apple tree the boy muttered
‘Tree can you give me toys I now desire? ’
‘Toys I don’t have, my boy, ’ the tree replied
‘But my fruits you can sell to get your toys.’

So the boy took the fruits and went away
The tree waited for his return day after day
Many years had passed and the boy got older
He married a girl to be his wife and lover

The adult boy now needing a new house for his family
Went to the tree and asked for its advice earnestly
The tree glad to see him once again said
‘My branches will be sufficient to make your nest.’

To these words the adult boy listened
And took all the branches away with him
With these he constructed a house for his family
Where he lived for several years happily

One day, the boy now a fully mature adult thought
‘It will be wise to travel around and sail the sea across’
So, he went to the now old apple tree and asked
‘Tree, can you tell me, a boat, where I can get? ’

The tree which was happy to see him again sighed and said
‘Though I am old, my stem you may take if you want’
On hearing this, the guy cut the tree down
And made a large boat, which was fine and strong

Many years had passed and the guy now became an old man
Tired from his adventures across the sea and land
He went and saw the apple tree once again
Which was now but a stump nobody would want

The old stump on seeing the old man cried
‘My old boy what can I do for you this time’
The old man on hearing this softly replied
‘I just want to lean against you till the end of my life.’

poem by Henry Chen
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Father Squirrel (Dedicated To My Father)

I watch a squirrel outside in a tree,
he seems so alive and free,
hopping from one tree to the next one,
I watch and think what fun. Down the trunk to the ground,
scampering, hunting all a round,
until the nuts have been found,
back up the tree he goes,
while a gentle breeze blows,
tree to tree he leaps,
you can not even hear a peep. Into his home he goes,
the winter harvest he sows,
day by day he repeats these steps,
so his family will be well kept.

poem by Kathleen Johnson-Breakfield
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Tree please forgive me

Oh tree, oh tree
Please forgive me

Oh tree, oh tree
I hope you smile at me

Oh tree, oh tree
I will try to save you

Oh tree, oh tree
Become my friend because I am all alone here

poem by Lovely Girl
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When I was only three I planted a tree

When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.

poem by Brad Milner
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Hill slope

Down on the hill slope a tree was there with flowers on it,
Season came and season goes,
it remain there with shade and fruits to give,

Small wood pecker or big owl,
all were there as it was there home to live,
One day a wood cutter found it useful to him,
he thought it to cut and takes its wood to sell in city,

birds and squirrel on tree helplessly saw the tree,
they tried to make noise,
but it didn't affected the woodcutter in the need

he cut down the tree to take the wood,
the tree on hiill slope became log of wood,
weak protest of bird and animals,
on it was not enough,
to save the tree.

tree full of life became silent as saying what was my fault,
is it only there right to live,
but yes its true only humans here,
are powerfull and can do anything to live and win,

hill slope became barren and dry like desert
poor tree however it was home for many
didn't found the place on to live on earth.

the reason it don't understand
why it is weak and meek.not able to
survive and get its right to stay alive to give shade and life to others.

poem by Hemu Gupta
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My Beau

I sat, my back resting against a tree trunk,
The sun shining full on my face,
I felt as if my whole being had shrunk,
As I looked out, at this huge open space.

This tree was enormous, such girth must have been
Created by vast centuries of time,
I was but a speck, when from such distance seen,
Yet it stood strong, as if just in its prime.

The views were stupendous, and over the lake,
Four herons were skimming in pairs,
So elegant were they, as each circle they'd take,
No, rushing with time, and no cares.

And as I sat pondering, the lake sparkled on,
The tree trunk, at my back, my support,
Then all of a sudden the sunshine had gone,
And a shadow across me was wrought.

But still I sat on, in this spellbinding scene,
It held me enraptured as though,
I was part of the landscape, and had always been,
And this tree was my 'soulmate' my 'beau'!

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Discontent

Winter of discontentment

I fear my almond tree has bloomed too early, a few good days,
it and I thought it was spring. Cold wind, they may die before
the flowers are ready to shed their petals and pretend its snow.
We are both stalwarts, when I first came here it was but
a sapling. I have a fire roaring and the dog no one looks after
is sleeping on the chair near the fire. Weather bad I didn’t have
the heart to leave it outside. I’m not prince Charles I don’t talk
to trees, but I do give it a friendly slap on its trunk if no one is
looking. I’m a sucker for down and outs, today I bought a chicken
dinner for the Roma woman who begs outside the supermarket.
A guard came and told me I mustn’t feed them, like they should
be some sort of animals. I love my almond tree it reminds me
of mother when she was sick and old, but beautiful in her frailty.
There was little I could do only tell of my love for her.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Forever Together

There it stands.
That fateful tree.
The tree out in the field,
the one from when I was a child.
The one where I spent endless hours doing nothing.
The tree that I did homework at.
This tree holds so many memories.
Enough to fill it from the top to bottom.
Happy memories, sad memories, angry moments,
All the good times and all the bad.
This is the tree of love.
Where I had my first kiss.
Three times...
This is the tree where I was born.
This is the tree that I will be buried under.
I love this tree.
It loves me.
We know each other so well.
Our hearts are one.
They have been for quite some time,
but Here I come.
Wait no longer lone tree.
I will be with you forever now.
It's been awhile hasn't it?
The police took their sweet time didn't they?
That isn't a factor now.
We are in the process of being united.
It won't be long now.
Forever together.
It won't be long.
Forever.
Forever...

poem by Zac Beemer
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