En.Citatepedia^®.ro

It Is So Beaufitul

a tree
dies attacked by fungus

infection is all
over

all leaves fall
to the ground

i watch sadness
creeping on stones

a tree without leaves
is happiness

stripped
off
as though deserted
all essence
gone

it does not end there
yet

this afternoon
birds with yellow breasts
and tiny beaks
come hovering

the dead tree sings a song
to the night

the sky is listening and it is
so beautiful

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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March Mornings

It sings to me
- the tree, the window tree.
Its leaves open as melodies
to the sheen of Spring.

It speaks to me
its words of green,
says now is the time
for everything.

It fills my dreams
with hopes and things,
making me believe
in what is yet to be.

The tree, the window tree,
brings the birds to me.
Songs come fluttering,
sliding on sun beams.

It dances the breeze,
smiles for me
on mornings like these
- absolutely free.

It sings to me
- the tree, the sweetgum tree.
Its leaves open as memories,
like love to me.

poem by W.I. Stoneberger
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Oh unchanging tree

Such a beautiful thing Is a tree.
In summer, in winter, in spring, in fall
the beauty of a tree, doesn't change at all

The leaves fall to the ground
all the richest beautiful color
can be found

The snow falls
but it doesn't hurt the tree,
it just lays on it's branches
like frosting on a cake

Then it gets warm, the snow melts.
Say goodbye to to winter, say hello to sping.
New life is such a beautiful thing

But so is the tree, the beautiful mighty tree.
That stands alone as the seasons pass
as when you were old or just a lass.

A tree must have a heart, because when it falls to the ground.
No Joy can be found..

So when you see a tree say hello, they can get lonely you know.
Tell them a story, tell them a poem, they will listen.
This I know

poem by Summer Song
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Autumn

You called up late
Said you wanted to talk
I was afraid
Cause you spoke so softly

You took my hand
Slowly started to cry
I can't understand
Why our season went by

Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough

You turned away
Slowly opened the door
Said you could not stay
You couldn't take it no more

It started to rain
Tears kept falling from the sky
It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain

Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough

Now I fall on the ground

It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain

Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough

Now I fall on the ground
Now I fall on the ground

It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain

Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough

song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle

eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out

eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''

eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''

Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''

Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''

poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The heart of a tree

With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.

poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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For I Too Must Leave Just Like Those Birds

the tree in the garden
has died

what we see now are
nothing but twigs without leaves

below are the heaps
of dead leaves
rotting

we have become like them
hopeless for sometime

dry and cracking
light as the wind
drifting like
the cloud

empty, hollowed by the
mourning of our arid
days

dragging nights
lifeless on a very cold wood
for a bed

one morning some yellow sparrows
with thin long black beaks
hover upon those twigs

and the dead tree even for
the moment has assumed
life

upon a borrowed hope only
for that brief moment

until then when all the sparrows
fly away again
taking with them all the songs
that you hear

you learn the tune from those
thin black and long beaks
and you must compose a song
for yourself

borrowing hope from hope
putting those leaves back
on your
imaginary trees

you must tell me
about the will to live

for i too must leave
and be a part of somewhere else

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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

poem by tree Ryd
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Beautiful Leaves

Beautiful leaves falling down,
Help me regain the sorrow in my eyes,
Beautiful leaves shimmering on a bright night,
Reassure me that I will laugh again,
Beautiful leaves changing colors,
Give the world a meaning of life
Beautiful leaves crumbling on the ground,
Let the birds chirp they're song once again.
Beautiful leaves tumble down,
Understand how I feel,
Beautiful leaves growing around,
Feel my sorrow and sadness

poem by Lucy Gocher
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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 Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVIII

HE LAMENTS THAT HIS LOVE IS DEAD
My love is dead, dead and in spite of me,--
Dead while I lived,--while yet my blood was rife
With hope and pleasure and the pride of life.
For my love ended unexpectedly
During the Winter, stricken like a tree
By a night's cold, and frozen to the blood,
Whose leaves fell off and never were renewed
By any promise of the years to be.
And, when the Spring came, and the birds, to mate
Among its branches, lo! they found it bare,
Though all around was Summer in the wood.
Yet they took heart awhile, incredulous
That such a tree should be for ever dead.
``'Tis early yet,'' they cried. ``The Spring is late.
It shall still be as in the days that were.''
But Summer came and went while the tree stood
Bare in the sun like a deserted house.
--Then the birds suddenly despaired and fled.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Doves And The Tree

what i first see are the doves hovering on the tree
they are many and the tree looks as though its leaves are plenty

for one thing
the doves when they hover
they hover together
as a flock
and when they leave
they also leave together
as a flock
and the tree can do nothing about it

and thus it happens
the doves all left at the same time leaving the tree to the truth
of its existence

it has no leaves at all this summer
when hot is really hot in here
when all the doves fly away together

the tree
looks like the thin, worn fingers of a very old man
opening, stretching to the skies
praying for mercies

and what about it God?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon A Dead Tree

this morning
i check upon
a dead tree

there are
no leaves
what i see
are birds
looking like
leaves

the tree is still
dead
and then the twigs
are all empty
when all the
birds

fly away

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Hung Me

It's dead, it'd dead you killed it all
you fucked me over, you watched me fall
the life you sucked right out of me
dead you hung me from tree.

My blood spills out onto the ground
it screams, it cries without a sound
there is no victory here for me
dead you hung me from a tree.

You can run but you can't hide
you'll try to say it's suicide
torn apart for all to see
dead you hung me from a tree.

I'll prove to you your world is wrong
your power has gone on way to long
watch my body swing so free
dead you hung me from a tree.

Free from you I find my peace
in a grave that's six feet deep
the cage unlocked, I found the key
dead you hung me from a tree.

poem by CJA Anderson
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Sonnet – Don’t Be

Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.

Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.

Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.

Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.

poem by John Celes
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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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Seen in a Glass

Behind the tree, behind the house, behind the stars
In the presence that I cannot see
Otherwise than as house and stars and tree.

Tree, house and stars
Extend to infinity within themselves
Into the mystery of the world

Where whirl the wheels of power whose pulse beat
Out of nothing, out of night,
Leaves, stones and fires,

The living tree whose maypole dance
Of chromosome and nucleus
Traces the maze of boughs and leaves.

The standing house of stone that poured
In molten torrent when was hurled
Out of chaos this great world,

And suns whose kindling begins anew
Or ends the course that tree, house, world move through.

Upheld by being that I cannot know
In other form than stars and stones and trees
Assume in nature’s glass, in nature’s eyes.

poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Evening Song

In the nearly dark tree
out on the bright edge,
he clings to tender leaves,
rides the wind-swayed branch
and sings.

Small bird,
red as the falling sun,
cries his evening song …
to tarried mate?
to fading sky or
guardian tree?

Drawn deep to darkest night,
I cannot ken this creature’s
pure mind; but his breath
leaves my raptured soul
bereft.

poem by Steven Federle
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The Tree

The weathered tree stripped bare
broken branches hang still
as though to scar its nature
no birds nest here any more
a thing of beauty has passed
into a beauty of another kind
colourless in the backdropp of sky
roots rise and fall into the ground
etchings of forgotten loves
remain as eternal memories
no lovers shade here now
the tree stands as though defiant
unwilling to relinquish to time
that which grew so tall
not dead, perhaps dying
stripped and broken it stands
the weathered tree
a work of life's true beauty

poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Dead Tree At The Center Of Our Garden

a tree at the center of
our garden
is shedding off all its
leaves

the wind at night
blows away all the leaves
away

in the morning
sunlight passes through it

leafless throughout the day

we have become
illuminated

our sad faces are now telling
stories

sooner the tree dies
replaced by a new one

to keep the balance
we do not stop moving

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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