En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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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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When The Wind Blows

When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
In a part of this once-great city
Stands a child crying out in pity.
Gone is hope in the heart of each hungry hour.
Every year in this land of plenty
There are millions of starving children
What will i say if they look my way?
This is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Bow your heads to the lost generation
Scars so deep, bringing god's damnation.
Businessmen sip wine while congress argue.
But for grace we enjoy our pleasures
What we face will be our salvation
Go build your towns, but remember time will not forget
That this is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Think of what the wise men said.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Tree Is Shedding Off Its Leaves

do not be surprised
to see this tree shedding off leaves

it is the season
for it to become a skeleton
it is like
that

giving off everything
what it gained
from the soil which gives it life

the tree is returning
heaps and heaps of leaves
for the wind
to blow and scatter to the earth

until what is left
is the bareness of it all

the one where we are now
a destiny into
emptiness

the glory of nothing
the splendor of being nothing at all

welcome! welcome!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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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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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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My Own Emptiness

morning
is an empty slate.

i go outside
this room into an open garden

rays of sun arrive
upon leaves soundlessly

mushrooms grow on the sides
of the old narra tree

i imagine i see some
elves

big biga leaves capture
water and on its edges are dews

i am empty like an empty slate of
morning

sunlight cannot
neither dew
nor nymphs of myth
fill it up.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Cat and The Apple Tree

A house in the garden
Un-robed compound
Dried leaves stretched out
Under an apple tree

Ripen apples fell down
And on the tree like bulbs
Being rotten lied on the floor
Making a quite picture

Leaves fall one by one
Letting to be naked
Surrounding nature gets ready
To warm up the winter

Through a side opened window
An old cat was sitting on the sill
Saying something to ins and outs
On one cannot understand

Postman comes and puts into the box
On one comes to open it
A rain with a rough wind last night
Ruined the apple tree

poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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September, 1918

This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.

poem by Amy Lowell
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My Drug Dealer

Today-
I asked myself.

Why are the oak tree’s purple?
And the grass blue?

Why is the sky green?
And the leaves hot pink?

Why is that gravel red?
And the rocks of that garden yellow?

Then I thought
and thought over again
a million times

and realized...

I’m high.

I’m up higher than the orange clouds in the green sky
My heart is as bright as the rocks of that garden

My thoughts are as eccentric as the hot pink color of the leaves
that fell from the purple tree

My eyelashes flutter flirtatiously like the way the wind
blows the blue blades of grass around.

Love is a drug,
and I’m high-

You happen to be my dealer.

poem by Breanna Schwartz
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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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Lying Under A Leafless Tree....

Lying under a leafless tree,
I hear the song of sorrow.
And wait for a better and
Happier good morrow!
I get the smell of the burning heart,
I feel getting away far, and far…
Where there is no, painful tune,
Will be chasing me ever!
You know, how blessed am I with,
My joyful home and hearth!
Still, I lack the world for all,
And a peaceful good earth….
The fallen leaves has made a wall,
Upon me, I can not count,
How many they are in number
I lie there on leaves' mount.
Who plays his finger upon my violin?
I do not even know….
The grief is shedding,
Tear on me, I'm weeping so!

poem by Nilakshi Das
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Foreign Roots In Desert Fall

Foreign Roots in Desert Fall.

It is sad to watch the big tree wearing a vast crown of hubris,
casting demonic shadows it allows nothing else to elevate.
Blows leaves of steel and stop anything that may help a small
bush grow. Once this tree was admired, an example how fast
arid land, fit only for the native Arabs, olive trees and goats,
grew into ten thousand blood dripping roses. In time,
countries far away came to fear this tree’s voraciousness its
boughs try to strangle the world; it is as it needs to govern us
to feel safe. Until we saw its weakness: ” This is a frantic tree,
a foreign plant in agony it has lost its purpose, has no ethics.
Worse of all its bark is scabby, roots are shallow; the tree can
tip over if our anger and disgust get to be a lashing hurricane,
which upend the tree; and its leaves will forever restless rustle
on the road to nowhere.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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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 Leafless Tree

Life - the life of my company started with an idea, much like planting a
seed that began the life of a single tree.

The tree slowly develops and occasionally produces a leaf, while all alone
primarily still a leafless tree.

The tree continues to grow and produce more leafs, this is quite indicative
of individual growth the makings of a vibrant tree.

Braving both fall and winter the tree remained leafless; however, prosperity
occurred during the spring and summer overshadowing what was
obviously a false weakness.

Prosperity revealed itself through the production of countless more leafs,
nature's demonstration of talent and commerce, the spectacle of a
completely leafed tree.

(The Leafless Tree poem represents both hope and a positive outlook on the struggles of entrepreneurs; from their humble beginnings to their rising
success stories in ultimately inferring 'never to give up.')

(Originally created December 2002, Irving, Texas)

poem by John C. Sudds
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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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Carry On The Spark In Your Heart

there will be lots of dry leaves to fall
from a tree to produce a fruit
more leaves to be blown by the wind
to make that flower with a sweet scent
and bright color
there will be thorns and worms and
sickening barks
there will even be deaths of
some trees not just
the shedding of leaves
but what matters most
is for you to carry on
with the mission
to bloom
do not let that spark die
that fire that keeps burning in your heart
make it live
carry on carry on
it does not just take a blink of an eye
to make this
beautiful universe

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How The Leaves Are Blown By The Wind

did i not tell you that these leaves come from the trees?
no dispute about it
about them, they grow out from there, those twigs
of the trees of life,
they get their glow, their sheen, though they have given more honor
to the sun
rather than the roots and the phloem

the season for them to mature and fall has come
and they all wait for the wind, the great strong wind to blow them all away
to their respective destinies
some find their way to the river
some to the thick heap of other leaves destined to rot
and only if you hear them
they say they come from nowhere
not from the tree of life
not from me

the leaves, my poems, the wind my way of throwing,
the tree, myself, my roots my mind, my phloem my blood

i made them all, but now, they are on their own

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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