En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Tree And The Branch

the tree looks
upon a branch
where a ripe
fruit is hanging

the tree says
it is mine
the branch say
i am holding it

the tree says
the branch too
belongs to it

angry about the
tree's greed
the branch lets go off
the ripe fruit

a hungry child
picks it up
and goes home
with a happy heart

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y.. Tree of Life

The tree of life
It has a branch
A money making branch

The bigger the money making branch
The more comfortable our life
But if the money making branch
Is the only branch
On our tree of life
It is such an ugly and unstable tree.

A prayer and devotion branch
Will stabilize the tree of life
Let it be a real big branch
On your tree of life
But if only two branches on a tree
Imagine how ugly it would still be!

So let there be branches
Of Affability and Charity
Of Cheerfulness and Friendliness
Of Gentleness and Honesty
Of Humility and Compassion
Of Spirituality and Wisdom
Of Courage and Hard work

With these branches present,
It will carry soon the lush greenery
Of love and job satisfaction
And soon enough, the tree of life
Will bear the fruits
Of peace of mind and happiness.

A wonderful tree of life I wish you
with many fine branches
and lots of greenery and fruits.

poem by Aufie Zophy
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A Broken Branch, A Fervent Tree

Such compassion and beauty be,
With the comfort strongly felt,
A friendship intensely made,
By the obstacles both sides have dealt.

I have no life without my other half,
No laughter unfeigned, no smile undelayed,
Immensely crafted into a bond,
So resilient and true, yet not dismayed.

I am a branch without a tree,
If I'm not with you, I fall, I am unbalanced,
You are my inner strength, my inner warmth,
A clandestine unglanced.

Such a friend you are,
A friend that one could never imagine,
A feeling of mirth and undeniable care,
As warm as a joyful grin.

I am a branch without a tree,
Incomplete without a tree,
I am the branch, you are the tree,
A broken branch, a fervent tree.

- a poem for Lorena -
- a poem for CHULCZ -

poem by Nashy Lamen
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They Too Dangle

If you suck the sap from the tree,
To feed your own interests...
Without seeking ways to replenish,
OR preserve what's left...
You sap the life from the tree.

And guess what?
Have you ever observed yourself,
Dangling from a branch?
Connected to it as the leaf you are,
Leeching.

Well...
That branch from which you leech,
Is connected to that tree...
From which you attempt to leave sapless.
And surrounding your unconscious doing,
Are others who are not as thoughtless.
But like you...
They too dangle,
Precariously with similar sefishness.
Until they dropp from that same tree...
Lifeless.

But you,
And those like you...
Wish to speed up that process!
With your frenzied greed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Tree

When spring comes round, our apple tree
Is very full of flowers,
And when a bird sits on a branch
The petals fall in showers.

When summer comes, our apple tree
Is very full of green,
And everywhere you look in it
There is a leafy screen.

When autumn comes, our apple tree
Is full of things to eat.
The apples hang from every branch
To tumble at our feet.

When winter comes, our apple tree
Is full of snow and ice
And rabbits come to visit it...
We think our tree is nice.

poem by Marchette Chute
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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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Broken Rhythm

A fat crow drops onto
The very tip of the top
Branch of a barren tree.

It sways with the branch
As if riding the hand
Of a metronome.

We're swept up in
The rhythm, the crow
The tree and me.

Then a hard gust
From the east
Or west and
The tree becomes a bull,
The crow a bullrider and
I'm on the edge of my seat
Waiting for something bad
To happen.

poem by Francis Santaquilani
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A New leaf

There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree

The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree

Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree

Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree

Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree

poem by Adrian Wait
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The Phenomenology Of Giving

when you give you give because your heart likes it
your abundance flows from a container filled with so much
you give because having so much is also painful

the tree with many fruits too ripe for the season
gives them all away to the ground
the passers-by shall pick them
and have their thirst and hunger satisfied
the tree gives because there is no more reason for holding
the stalk gives up the weight that it is carrying
the tree has to shed leaves for another cycle
when the picker comes, the tree does not ask who is it
or for the reason why, whether it deserves it
it merely lets go every fruit
lest it be its own burden
for in truth giving away is also a form of relief
a cure of our maladies for greed,
a way of unloading our guilt
a way of erasing our avarice,
the final end to our disgrace.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Death Of A Tree

When I see a tree cut down
whose life was not yet done
I look upon it with a frown
and then look at the sun.
For the sun that nurtured every limb
and every leafy branch
has one less tree to care for
that never had a chance
to say to man
''Don't cut me down.
Don't let me die.
Don't let the sap
within me dry.'

For every tree that's been alive
that's grown upon this earth
is a gift from nature to us all
that's always known its worth.
The problem as I see it
is man who cannot see
just what it probably feels like?
To be the cut down tree.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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On Seeing Tawny Frogmouths

At nightfall the birds known as tawny frogmouth come out in family groups of three or four
They do not have a song the only sounds they do make is a sort of a low pitched nasal snore
In the wooded parkland they fly from tree to tree in their search for tree insects and flies
And they return to roost on their roosting trees at the dawning just before sunrise,
Quite expert at camouflage in their colours of brown lengthwise on a bare branch of a tree
In the bright light of day they look part of the branch they are almost impossible to see
Disguised from the prying eyes of predators in safety they rest Nature never ceases to amaze
Of her so little we do seem to know we are strangers to Nature's ways,
Related to the nightgars nocturnal insect eating birds though frogmouths far greater in size
For better vision in dimlight the night birds 'twould seem than day birds have far larger eyes,
I have seen the frogmouths at nightfall in the park near my home almost tame to them I approached near
Of human kind so little they seem to know so of humans they show little fear,
From tree to tree in the parkland they fly these quiet brown birds of the night
So well camouflaged on their bare roosting branch they seem part of the tree in daylight.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Our Family Tree

We class ourselves as branches
on our family tree,
each person has a branch
and each branch has its branches
growing out of it.
Let’s go back to the beginning,
who would be the base
of our family tree.

In being logical,
we take the first names
in our written history
and those first two names
have to be Adam and Eve.
Now if they are the base
from which all families grow.
That makes everyone
on earth one big family,
and that makes everyone we talk to
part of our big family tree.

7 March 2008

poem by David Harris
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Home

A home above the year's seasons
home of children animals and apples
a square of empty space
under an absent star

home was the telescope of childhood
the skin of emotion
a sister's cheek
branch of a tree

the cheek was extinguished by flame
the branch crossed out by a shell
over the powdery ash of the nest
a song of homeless infantry

home is the die of emotion
home is the cube of childhood

the wing of a burned sister

leaf of a dead tree

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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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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Those Ripe Guavas

do not be sad today

when you wake up
open your window first
and see
those ripe guavas
hanging on the branch
of that tree
that your mother
once planted
in front of the house...

it is only when you remember (mother)
that you begin to forget (misery) ...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Friend's Tree

I plant my friend's tree
Where I attach branch as day come thee
A friend a day who touch my heart
Blissful I enjoy my years by years
With my excellent mature friends ….wine dine
Movie - social - lunch and chit n chat
As time depart by and life set off fully developed

I plant my friend's tree
Thou' 47 years old tree that tremble me into pain
Where I can glimpse the branch are
Falling apart each day thee
Oh Lord why so soon …… there is no more than
Few branches left …..To chit chat
Tears logical from my eyes are powerless
I'm trying to reassemble it ……just so unaided
But there is no solution to it ……

I plant my friend's tree ….. My life
Goodbye my treasured friends
You all are living in my broken heart
I may have not there to say goodbye
But sure I can assure to replant another tree
When we meet again one day heaven above
A tree of friend's wisdom and everlastingly

poem by Ezna Stephna
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Sonnet LXXXII: Hoarded Joy

I said: “Nay, pluck not,—let the first fruit be:
Even as thou sayest, it is sweet and red,
But let it ripen still. The tree's bent head
Sees in the stream its own fecundity
And bides the day of fulness. Shall not we
At the sun's hour that day possess the shade,
And claim our fruit before its ripeness fade,
And eat it from the branch and praise the tree?”
I say: “Alas! our fruit hath wooed the sun
Too long,—'tis fallen and floats adown the stream.
Lo, the last clusters! Pluck them every one,
And let us sup with summer; ere the gleam
Of autumn set the year's pent sorrow free,
And the woods wail like echoes from the sea.”

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Wild Wild Party In The Loquat Tree

Out in the back by the grape stake fence
Is a place where nature makes so much sense
All the creatures livin in harmony
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
Havin a feast beneath a clear blue sky
Animals comin from miles around
To bounce the branch and shake the loquat down
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Peckin at em pickin at em hidin em away
Savin em up for a rainy day
No matter how big no matter how small
Theres more than enough theres plenty for all
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Every little loquat holds the seed
For a brand-new baby loquat tree
One o these seeds may find its way
To a place in the sun and then someday
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
All havin a party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where have all the trees gone Dad?

Dad! When I was in school the teacher showed me a picture of a tree
I've never seen one of those before, tall and handsome and brown and green you see
Do you remember seeing a tree when you were young? My teacher says there were many
She says that they grew all over the world but now days there aren't any

What did they look like? Did they blow in the wind?
Did the leaves fall in the autumn or was it in spring?
How high did they grow? Did they sway to and fro?
Did they look pretty covered in winters first fall of snow?

Dad, teacher says they'll grow no more, she says the climate has changed forever
She says we're all poorer now and explained to us how we'll have to suffer together
I heard that there was a tree that grew as tall as a skyscraper
But they cut it down and mulched it up to make us all new paper

It would be nice to see trees growing proud and strong
Reaching up to the sky with their branches so long
But that's just a dream I know I'll never see
It's just a vision in a picture never to be reality for me

My teacher said there used to be birds that lived amongst the bows
They flew around from branch to branch but we don't have those either now
What are nuts and berries and fruit the trees all used to bear?
My teacher says they were things we could eat at the end of every year

Well do you remember seeing a tree when you were young then Dad?
The like of which I have just explained and a pleasure I've never had
What do you mean they died out long ago, long before you were born
Now I'll never know why we cut them all down and my heart will always be torn.

poem by Glenn Ford
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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
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In The Carolina Woods

HERE you should lie, ye Kings of eld,
Barbarossa, Boabdil,
And Czar Lazar and Charlemagne,
Arthur, Gaelic Finn-
Here where the
muffling Spanish mosses
Forests with forests fill!

Not in a cavern where the winds
Trample with battle-call,
But in these woods where branch and branch
From tree and tree let fall
Not moss, but grey and cobweb beards,
Kings' cabalistic beards!

Here should you sleep your cycles out,
Ye Kings with hoary beards!

poem by Padraic Colum
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