Youth And Age.
The last fruit off a tree is oft more sweet
And finely flavoured than the first, and so
Within life's autumn men may pleasures pluck
As sweet as youth's, and more sufficing than
The rank and rare enjoyments of the boy.
poem by Robert Crawford
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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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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Pluck A Plum Where There Is No Tree
PLUCK A PLUM WHERE THERE IS NO TREE
God who freed
from fruit the seed
can pick a pear
from a baby tree.
God who sired
the hallowed fig
does harvest fruit
from a barren sprig.
God made blooms pastel
and bright fruits
and can a kumquat take
from a tree of quince.
Who made Pluto and
the Pleiades
can pluck a plum
where there is no tree.
================================ =====
(to Senator George Mitchell
.. tireless worker for peace
in America and Europe)
The Sanskrit word for the Wish
Fulfilling Tree is Asritakalpalateeka.
It is spoken of in Revelation.. the
tree with 12 kinds of fruit.)
poem by Saiom Shriver
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The Rambo-Tree
When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The bird sings low as the bumble-bee--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The poor shote-pig he says, says he:
'When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree
There's enough for you and enough for me.'--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard.
_For just two truant lads like we_,
_When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_
_There's enough for you and enough for me_--
_It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_.
When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The mole digs out to peep and see--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The dusk sags down, and the moon swings free,
There's a far, lorn call, 'Pig-_gee_! 'Pig-_gee_!'
And two boys--glad enough for three.--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard.
_For just two truant lads like we_,
_When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_
_There's enough for you and enough for me_--
_It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Surprise, Surprise
Sweet as the smell of success
Her body's warm and wet
She gets me through this god awful lonliness
A natural high butterfly oh i,
I need, need, need her
Just like a willow tree
A breath of spring you see
And oh boy you don't know what she do to me
She makes me sweat and forget who i am
I need, need, need, need her
Well i was wondering how long this could go on, on and on
Well i thought i could never be surprised
But could it be that i bit my own tongue
Oh yeah, it's so hard to swallow when you're wrong
A bird of paradise
The sunrise in her eyes
God only knows such a sweet surprise
I was blind she blew my mind think that i
I love, love, love, love, love her
I love her, i love her, i love her, i love her
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Love Letter To You
My dear sweet lover,
I am writing this letter from my heart;
Because i've been hunted by your love!
And i've been keeping it ever since i met you.
I can't sleep off my mind so easily,
And not even in my dreams! !
For the phenomenon of this love is a thing that touches me,
And your love is as ripen as the autumn fruit.
It concerns us all on this thing called love,
And every prerequisite intelligent brain wants this fruit;
So let our consciousness stimulate each other deeply!
For everyone requires love on this earth.
My proposal to you is like the vision of making love to this fruit,
And i really love you and i cannot hide it from you!
This is because your candle of love has been burning inside me,
For your love is as ripen as the autumn fruit.
How can i explain this mystery of your love? !
Thinking of how we will kiss each other in passion when the right time comes;
But your personified self can still do this miracle of a romance!
For i know that you also love me.
I am very crafty and i don't mind waiting for yur love,
Because your love is always the best of value;
And how nice it will be to savour the kernel of your sweet fruit,
But this is my love letter to you.
A passionate and a romantic love of million cheers wait for us,
And your sweet love is the most harmless document worth living for;
But this is my love letter to you my dear one,
And i shall testify to this love as long as i live.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Wind of Autumn
Wind of Autumn
Wind of autumn
Fire of summer-
Sweet girl of sixteen
Autumn without chirping
Of cuckoo in life-
Does not mean
How can the poets
Construct poetry;
If autumn remain far
Fire of summer
Looks wanton eye;
Say what you desire
Autumn knows the youth
Rainy day cloud;
O! Love rose begin.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A life full of tragedies
Where sweet dreams turn into horrific nightmares
Where how you feel nobody really cares
Where whatever you do bears no fruit
Where you become a tree without root
Where efforts are useless and bring despair
Where happiness is like mirage and rare
There how will you find love and peace?
It’s a life full of tragedies!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Eden No More
Oh why dose the
Teardrops fall
From above
It mourns the loss
Of Eden no more
Man and wife
The creator did make
In his own image
A miracle of love
Hand in hand
They nurtured the land
That God gave to thee
For prosperity
Amongst the beauty
The garden of life
There laden a tree
Baring the fruit
Of knowledge and life
One simple rule
That he gave to thee
Thou shalt not
Taste the forbidden fruit
From the apple tree
But alas there lived
Amongst the fruit
Of the tree of life
A fallen angel
That tempted mans wife
He convinced the maiden
To take one simple bite
One simple bite
That changed the rest
Of her life
The texture was crisp
And it tasted so sweet
A forbidden fruit
That was divine
To the taste
Its taste so sweet
She needed
To share the
Divinity that
Had fallen from
The apple tree
Said fallen to Eve
Take heed of my word
He will love you evermore
If you share this divinity with thee
Believing it to be so
Young Eve did show
Her husband the tender
Fruit from yon tree
The fallen just smirked
At how easy to sow
The seeds that will
Embellish mans fate
In the page's of time and history
poem by Kaila George
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My Candy Dreams
As I close my eyes
I dream of a land,
Where everything is sweet
With coloured sherbet sand.
Filled with flavoured milk
The ponds, the rivers, the sea,
Strawberry, chocolate, banana
Vanilla and raspberry.
The clouds are cotton candy
The stars are toffee fudge
And when you see the Bassett tree,
There’s temptation to give a little nudge.
Flowers are made of candy cane,
The petals so soft and nice.
Deep within the biscuit house
To find some chocolate mice.
More than you can imagine
Marshmallows in the bath,
Coffee flavoured stones,
Lay upon the path.
Sitting in the hen house
Lays all the Cadburys cream,
And all of this exists
In my sweet candy dreams
©Copyright Anna Andrews 2010
poem by Anna Andrews
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Strange Fruit
(l. allan)
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the roots
Black bodies swingin in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias sweet and fresh
And the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is the fruit
For the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joy Of Achievement
Very sweet indeed is the joy of achievement,
A joy that is truly God-sent,
Something that causes us to be happy for long,
And causes us to break out in song.
The joy of a job well done,
Is the best of joys under the Sun,
Anyone would rather have it indeed,
To eternal happiness does it lead.
Rare indeed is this particular joy,
We cannot it lend or buy,
Something that comes after hard work,
For a hard worker everywhere it does lurk.
The fruit of tiresome years,
That comes amidst apprehensions and fears,
It is sweeter than any known fruit,
A hard worker it does properly suit.
A joy sweet it indeed is,
It causes one to have a feeling of bliss,
Something that is rarer than gold,
That gives joy untold.
poem by Pratheek Praveen
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For Those Who Grieve
no one
no one can really stop you
from eating the bark of the tree
the thick skin of the
fruit
no one can tell you what should have
been proper
or better
you like the skin and you throw away
the fruit that could have
satisfied your
thirst and hunger
the bark has poisoned you
the moon has warned you too well
the worm is wriggling
its frail and elongated
body
you have no ears
your sense of smell so badly damaged
and now you
are dying
no one tells you that life is as sweet
as the ripe fruit of the tree
that luscious flesh that flowing
juice
your gaze is sharp as a knife
stabbing even the
sun
and you are always right
what you have been searching
that can satisfy your hunger and thirst
is not found on the fruit
not even in the tree
it is in the poisonous bark
that useless skin
that silly coat
definitely it is not even here
where we are all grieving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Sweet Taste
I am the first person to pluck the mango of your sweet love and,
I am the only person who understand you for what you are.
I am the first person to pluck the mango of your sweet love and,
I will always remember your black dread locks;
For you came alone like the King of Pop Music.
I will always remember your sweet taste and the love that we shared,
And the rings on our hands today are like the waterfalls.
They will always be a sign for us and,
I will always remember this sweet taste of yours forever.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Home, Sweet Home
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain;
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again!
The birds singing gayly, that come at my call --
Give me them -- and the peace of mind, dearer than all!
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child,
As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door
Thro' the woodbine, whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
How sweet 'tis to sit 'neath a fond father's smile,
And the caress of a mother to soothe and beguile!
Let others delight mid new pleasures to roam,
But give me, oh, give me, the pleasures of home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
To thee I'll return, overburdened with care;
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there;
No more from that cottage again will I roam;
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet, home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
poem by John Howard Payne
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New College Gardens, Oxford
ON this old lawn, where lost hours pass
Across the shadows dark with dew,
Where autumn on the thick sweet grass
Has laid a weary leaf or two,
When the young morning, keenly sweet,
Breathes secrets to the silent air,
Happy is he whose lingering feet
May wander lonely there.
The enchantment of the dreaming limes,
The magic of the quiet hours,
Breathe unheard tales of other times
And other destinies than ours;
The feet that long ago walked here
Still, noiseless, walk beside our feet,
Poor ghosts, who found this garden dear,
And found the morning sweet!
Age weeps that it no more may hold
The heart-ache that youth clasps so close,
Pain finely shaped in pleasure's mould,
A thorn deep hidden in a rose.
Here is the immortal thorny rose
That may in no new garden grow--
Its root is in the hearts of those
Who walked here long ago.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Wishing Tree
A charming sweet youth
Wandered through life
A bit awkward
To say uncouth
Stumbling through
The toils of life
He stumbled upon
An archaic tree
Wishing on
It's old wearied branch
wishing he was
older than he.
With a subtle whack
The tree hit back
And said ‘Thou inane youth you would rather be old like me? '
With a bump on his head
Leaves began to sprout
His flexible limbs
Turned to stalwart tims
Now all that he sees
Are old green leaves
And the old boy began to sap.
Then a new youth appeared
And he gleamed with joy
'Look at me, ' he cheered
'I am a brand new boy.'
He looked at the tree
And sweetly smiled
'Now you wish you were me
A happy child! '
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Surprise, Surprise )
-"there's a break ev'ry time, there"
-"................?.................."
-"no, oh, i thought it was you, sombody was hangin' over, maybe a foot on the pedal or something"
-"................?.................."
-"well, would you do it, jim? eh, i don't know what you do it on.....yeah!"
-".one, one, two, three, four"
Sweet as the smell of success,
Her body's warm and wet.
She gets me thru this god awful loneliness,
A natural high butterfly.
Oh, i, i need. need, need her.
Just like a willow tree,
A breath of spring, you see.
And, oh boy, you don't know what she do to me,
She makes me sweat, forget who i am.
Oh i, i need, need, need her.
Well, i was wond'rin' how long this could go on,
On and on.
'cause i thought i could never be surprised.
But could it be that i bit my own tongue?
Mm-hmm,
It's so hard to swallow when you're wrong.
A bird of paradise,
Sunrise in her eyes.
God only knows such a sweet surprise,
I was blind, she blew my mind,
Think that i, oh, i love, love, love her.
- "stay on your d! - d! - stay there. hey!"
Sweet, sweet, sweet,
Sweet, sweet smell.
Sweet, sweet, sweet
Such sweet, sweet,
Sweet, sweet smell.
- "ok, thank you! stop! let me just check it
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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