Don't be a tree!
Not a planted tree to stay at a place,
Spreading the roots in underground space,
Looking for the sun to beg for the light,
Photosynthesis, reproduce and rot.
When the wind blows, to shake our heads,
We are not the trees that have no leads,
During the storm, to get uprooted and fall,
We are the trees that are too rigid, not flexible.
For the fallen leaves, the trees never cry,
For the fallen human, we have to voice and try,
We are the human, the rulers of the earth,
Not the trees of the soil that has no mirth.
Let us not lick the feet of anyone for our survival,
Let us not get tickled with someone's failure,
Let us not be the fools to get hoodwinked and cheated,
Let us be the survivors conquering the thoughts.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Among the Trees
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for the one my heart calls for
I wonder lost among the trees
I see your light amongst the dark
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is brighter then the rest
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is out of my reach
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light comes closer
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is bright like an angel from the sky
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light fades away and leaves me alone
I wonder lost among the trees
Without a hand to guide the way
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for my guiding light
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost, alone
I wonder afraid of the world
Around me I look for the one
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost and alone forever...................................
poem by kelly Martini

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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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No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Summer's Wind
Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.
So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.
And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.
The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.
poem by Sandra Osborne

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A Journey Back To Ourselves
as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees
transparent and
cold
trees without
leaves
i imagine
twigs
or roots or
trunks
they are never
there
no matter how
trees are tears
without leaves
without roots
with so much
salt in each
and then you
touch the waves
of the imaginary
sea and then
your journey back
to you begins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Don’t be an uprooted Tree
Seed is sown and the embryo is formed
Legitimate or not, radicle develops into root
Root penetrates into the surface of the soil
Absorbs water and food, turns seed into plant
Inherits the culture of the earth beneath.
It’s in root science that, it moves in
Right direction to fetch the exact need.
Stem gives the support and balance to stand
Branches form the vitality of the plant
Leaves prepare the food to survive
Bearing even odds the plant grows into tree.
As long as deep roots embraces mother earth
The tree shows confidence and attracts.
Location and depth are the might of the tree
Flower, fruit, shade, firm soil, H2O and CO2
Vary from tree to tree, but all owe to root
Never there is an existence beyond this means.
Still human trees surrender under the pressures
Try to get uprooted from the surface and means
Hoping for better flower, fruit, soil and breeze
Truth is, an uprooted tree, a timber, put to ablaze.
-vidi-
22-04-08
poem by Vidi Writes

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Her Old Argument
we meet as old trees with roots deep on the ground.
twigs are trunks and leaves if they fall do not come back to hang back.
do not look for meanings, they are all there already
when we meet as old trees
when we agree that we meet as old trees so there will be no
compromise that you change that i change
that we become like each other in color and perceptions
what you see is what you get, that is your oldest premise
and i jump into conclusions: i am free, you are freedom.
somewhere, i also cannot bend as you keep that bent posture
when we meet as trees old enough to understand the spread of
our respective roots.
'you cannot change me, you can only love me' your ending statement.
' i give up the search for the idea, i stay put' my conclusion.
The pavement is so dry. There is no rain. I hear nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Greatest Instrument Of Sun!
Sun gives light and life to the world for the survival of all;
Powered by Sun leaves grew to be Trees to save all beings!
Sun gives energy to everything through Trees in the world;
Without Trees there is no shadow or shelter for all creatures!
Leaves, fruits and flowers of Trees give food and energy to all!
Sun gives energy directly to plants to supply energy as food
For all living beings to maintain ecological balance in the world;
So, cultivation, preservation and maintenance of Trees save world!
Deforestation and exploitation of natural resources endanger world!
Pollution by industrialization and mechanization shorten the life span
Sooner or later of Mother Earth that survives and sustains all beings
And gives warnings by droughts, storms and floods now and then!
Sun is not only the giver of life and light but also destroyer of all,
If the greatest instrument of Sun, the Tree is meddled with by man!
poem by Ramesh T A

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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes

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The computer tree- algorithm (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
A free tree is never rooted
Infinite complete binary tree
A finger tree has internal nodes
Each one in this tree has child nodes
And their connection is a walk
Parents and children walking the tree
Nodes without children are called leaves
While roots are leaves for the finger trees
Very intelligent words tree
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence
Adaptive merging operation
Implementing finger searching trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Until they lose everything
In the Springtime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beautiful flowers
In the Summertime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beloved fruits
In the Autumn time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most painful leaves
In the Winter time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their hope.
And the wind beats again those trees
Until they lose
Their most important spring buds
Again and again
Until they lose their sap
Moreover
The wind beats the trees
Until they collapse down
To the ground.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self

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Choked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstructing her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is any more than she can tell what time it is
Which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog swallows it
She has been misled again
...and again
......and again
She screams, she’s tired; she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like she’s been here forever
Trees that don’t talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
Mocking her, humiliating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
Water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Joyce Forbus

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To Sunprincess
Dear Princess,
I know, some pains can't be
cured, I know, your mind
is burdened with sorrow.
Yet, smile at life my babe,
smile at life.
It will be winter here,
the season, Fall is near...
The leaves of some trees
will fall one by one,
withered, unable to do
photosynthesis......
Some will stay and
mesmerize us with their red
hearts, with bleeding parts...
Let us live in meditation
like them, in the memory,
of the fallen ones.....
As they are our kins,
the bygone days, the
never-forgotten hours...
Let's kiss our lives
too then....
Let's....
poem by Nilakshi Das

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Chocked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstracting her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is anymore than she can tell what time it is
which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog shollows it
She has been mislead again
...and again
......and again
She screams, shes tired, she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like shes been here forever
Trees that dont talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
mocking her, humilating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Dowdy

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Falling Leaves (leaves me pondering)
Little orange leaves
Gathered and quaking,
Upon the tree
The wind is shaking -
Where will you go, oh little ones
When you fall?
- I was hoping you'd take me with you
To the realm beyond it all -
There is a dream in my soul,
Of such far away places to go;
Where all the fallen leaves
Return to the original trees;
Where the questions of autumn
Are finally understood,
And we come to see
In the end, all is good.
poem by Smoky Hoss

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Algorithm of a tree (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
(A two line image poem, often with a title, in which euphony is the key factor.
Each line may have 8 or 9 syllables to make a total of seventeen)
A free tree is never rooted,
Infinite complete binary tree.
A finger tree has internal nodes and
Each one in this tree has child nodes.
And their connection is a walk,
Parents and children walking the tree.
Nodes without children are called leaves,
While roots are leaves for the finger trees.
Very intelligent are the words tree,
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence,
Adaptive merging operation,
Implementing finger search trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Rainy Day in Chicago
Rain sprinkles the ground
damping the fallen leaves.
Grey clouds fill the sky
hiding the sun.
The wind blows off the lake
shaking the trees.
I sit inside trying to fight my boredom
so I don't fall asleep.
Wow it is just another rainy day in Chicago.
Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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A Short Story
A wind blows gently in the night, filling the place where I just left. Whistling down the beaten path, through trees that are green and amongst the fallen brush. Is this just wind or is this something else?
The trees bend and bow as the wind gains speed crashing towards me like an animal stalking it’s prey. Faster it comes charging and announcing it’s existence. The wind screams now calling to me, giving me chills.
I turn to run, I don’t want this wind. It will change me. It will mold me. It will fill me. I start to run, banging into trees, as branches slam into me cutting my flesh as I hurry by. The wind does not stop it never breaks course. I hear it closer.
The wind fills my thoughts as I stumble and fall. I look down and see blood streaming from my knee. I get up resilient to the last. I cry out to the Lord for wisdom, but I hear nothing.
I see onlookers scoffing and pointing at me. Some cheer me on as I continue my struggle climbing up what seems like an Everest of a mountain. I look back and see the wind bearing down on me.
I continue forward sprinting with all of my strength. My chest is pounding and my legs are heavy with an aching pain that shoots up and down my whole body.
Ahead is a cliff sharp and rugged. Should I jump or do I accept the wind’s fate for me? I yell out for help and no help comes. I sink to the ground for I am completely broken.
poem by Michael Brown

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