April Apron Of Apricot Blooms
April aprons of
apricot blooms
spun by the sun
on his lightthreaded looms
Away petals swept
by wind's feather brooms
for giving tree's free
fruit to make room
poem by Saiom Shriver

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She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!
You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!
And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons fly,
Till brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away.
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Fruit Not Felled By The Wind
old fruit trees shedding petals in the wind
fragrant lily white petals strew green grass
before wedding of tree love born on wind
flowers endure grace old trees with fruit
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The Expert and The Apricot
The orchardist, with hope aglow,
Sets out a crop of fruit to grow
And sell it wisely where he can,
Like any other business man;
And he strives to make a contract fair and free.
But, 'Fie!' exclaims the Government,
'Have we not experts heaven-sent
Who, by their schemes an shrewd advice,
Will win you twice the market price?'
(And the bloom begins to burgeon on the tree.)
Then, lo, with docket and with file,
The studious experts toy the while.
With rain and sun, the season goes,
The blossom falls, the fruit it grows
As bureaucrats debate and disagree.
They look up section forty-two
And regulation Seven Q
All eagerly upon the scent
Of written rule and precedent.
(And the apricot is hardening on the tree.)
The orchardist toils in the sun;
He prunes and delves; and, one by one
The trees are sprayed with Parls Green,
Or, mayhap, soap or kerosene,
Or some vile mixture dear to chemistry.
Meantime, a sale the experts seek,
Not hurriedly, all in a week,
But in a manner dignified,
As fits such men of knowledge wide.
(And the apricot is ripening on the tree.)
Gravely they ponder this and that,
While buyers wait upon the mat;
And, as the smiling autumn comes,
They chew their pens and suck their thumbs.
And argue over Section Ninety D,
And while the harried orchardist
Grieves for the market that he missed.
They suddenly wake up and say:
'We have agreed at last! Hooray!'
(But the apricot is rotting 'neath the tree.)
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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10 Mother Earth
Sunwands turn rain droplets into blackberry drupelets
as enkindled okra seeds acknowledge heliocracy.
*
When God greengrows it's rarely in rows... awry the rye rises...unruly
the rose
*
Each night the tree of nut out of naught knits neat nuts
and will time soon not sever the nut tree knot?
*
The bee's favorite couplet: sunupbrimming buttercuplet
*
From the plane, one sees above the clouds' chemtrails
.. lines of Sanskrit...
*
as he walked along, he saw a
slain dandelion with grey locks
and blew the down of the mower victim
that there be new fluffy flower flocks
*
The tree branches God has joined together let no one cleave asunder.
The animal limbs God has joined together let
no meatcutter cleave asunder.
*
April is aproned with apricot blooms.
*
Because the wind rustled blooming fruit trees
they released their fresh fragrance into the breeze
*
Only the jasmine plant has a right to string garlands of
its blooms.
*
April is the most fragile month, when tender jade tenrils
can be crushed by unconscious boots
*
Why has God his dew morngift sent?
For cider, butterfly drinks,
for lilac and jasmine scent
*
The fen way becomes a fern way, finely traced fans of
jade.. waving in the wind.
*
The fruit tree oer the brook drops her free food into the
waters... the fish bob for apples
*
Those depressing stormclouds grey... wand the world to green
*
The orange tree... a green galaxy with many blazing
saffron sunorbs
*
The morning sun does the throat of lark spur and blue the meadows
with sweetest larkspur
*
While elsewhere the sun, universal lover,
has knit a new cover, of purplest clover, all the field over
*
Most can from the apple tree pick spies
but only God can pluck blazing stars from the skies
*
Like the beloved in a canoe paddled by her love is
the willow tree trailing her lacy fingers in the lake
*
When the naturalist who defines plants as wild edibles
comes around, do the plants shiver and shake, quiver and quake?
*
Some find peace most in the mountains. Some find peace
most at the sea. And some find peace most
in the mountains oer the sea.
*
Only newfallen laurel leaves in Wilbur's laureate wreaths
for he takes only what Mother Earth gently bequeaths
*
Within each acorn cloak are infinite oaks.
*
Inch across the yard the bright rays of dawn
Striking magic wands cause flowers in the lawns.
*
In the foothills of the Apennines old olive trees with grapes vined...make violet orbs of olivine... we think
of this in LA at Olive and Vine
*
Because he wanted Pennsylvania: both the silva and the pencil
he decided from nonwood to make his pencils.
*Guarding the sea's blue peace....are the brave souls of Greenpeace
==================
silva: forest in Latin
28
poem by Saiom Shriver

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October [Octombrie]
As if it were an icon full of light
Inside my heart your lovely image looms,
And my own dreams – small apricot tree blooms –
Fall like the snow around it, soft and white.
And when I see you standing at the door
I leave my dreams and bow down at your feet;
I'm like a flake that's melting in the heat,
Under your eyes, which I so much adore.
But when you're bored and quickly go away,
When with small steps on narrow tracks you sway,
And trample on dead leaves with awe and fear,
I feel the autumn twilight in my breast,
I cannot think, I'm empty as a nest,
When the last swallows fly and disappear.
poem by Al. O. Teodoreanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş

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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 Waster's Presentiment
I shall be spun. There is a voice within
Which tells me plainly I am all undone;
For though I toil not, neither do I spin,
I shall be spun.
April approaches. I have not begun
Schwegler or Mackintosh, nor will begin
Those lucid works till April 21.
So my degree I do not hope to win,
For not by ways like mine degrees are won;
And though, to please my uncle, I go in,
I shall be spun.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray

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Petals
Shes the angel on top of the tree
Sugarheart, here she comes
Shes going to fall on me
Innocence was our fire
We told the truth
I miss the sweet boys
In the summer of their youth
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
They will make you so
So cynical
The fire burns, the flesh destorys
The past that made us old
Shes the grace of this world
Shes too pure
For the likes of this world
This world is a whore
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
I wait till mine and
Hey, its all mine
Hey, its all mine
Never knew what I could be
All the darling buds of may
They fall with no sound
They carry you down
They carry you down
Ooooooooo, ooooooh
Ooooooooo
All the lillies bloomed and blossomed
Wilted and theyre shivering
I cant stop their withering,
Oh, this world is a war
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
Tear the petals off of you
Make you tell the truth
Tear the petals off of you
song performed by by Hole

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Valentine's Gift For You
i am offering you
a ticket to Bangkok
you fly this April
on a 13th
alone, you said
you need
space and time
you said
you need a room
a sailboat
a place without me
and here i am
i am giving you
this ticket for free
see Thailand and
be with the elephants
eat a lot of durian
and just be free
you like it?
say yes, say yes
i like it
i want to go with her
without you too
we like to do it
in a room not well-lit
in Guanzhou
and in Taipie
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I Want To Be Free
(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
Theres no joy in my heart,
Only sorrow
And Im sad
As a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
Of my lonely room
And this room
Is a prison to me
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
They cant see you
And my arms,
They cant hold so tight
I have two lips
That are yearning,
But theyre no good to me
Cause I know I cant kiss you tonight
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want To Be Free (Take 11)
There's no joy in my heart,
only sorrow
And I'm sad
as a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
of my lonely room
And this room
is a prison to me
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
they can't see you
And my arms,
they can't hold so tight
I have two lips
that are yearning,
but they're no good to me
Cause I know I can't kiss you tonight
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard
What, barren here! in this so good a soil?
The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil
From giving thee his blessing; barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Art thou not planted by the water-side?
Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified?
The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree:
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too,
Will neither patience nor yet dressing do?
The executioner is come, O tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
He that about thy roots takes pains to dig,
Would, if on thee were found but one good fig,
Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be!
The utmost end of patience is at hand,
'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand.
O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree.
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Thy standing nor they name will help at all;
When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall.
The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree!
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
poem by John Bunyan

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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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April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
poem by John Paul Ang

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On Promising Fruitfulness of a Tree
A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blooms young apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there till they ripe should be.
But most of all in beauty 'twould abound,
If then none worm-eaten should there be found.
But we, alas! do commonly behold
Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold.
They too, which hang till they young apples are,
By blasting winds and vermin take despair,
Store that do hang, while almost ripe, we see
By blust'ring winds are shaken from the tree,
So that of many, only some there be,
That grow till they come to maturity.
Comparison.
This tree a perfect emblem is of those
Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows,
Its blasted blooms are motions unto good,
Which chill affections do nip in the bud.
Those little apples which yet blasted are,
Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear.
Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see,
How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.
Those which the wind blows down, while they are green,
Show good works have by trials spoiled been.
Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree,
Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be.
Behold then how abortive some fruits are,
Which at the first most promising appear.
The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show,
There flows, from much appearance, works but few.
poem by John Bunyan

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You Are The Tree, I Am The Wind
You are the tree, I am the wind,
You alter my course, yet you also bend;
No longer is either the same after each-
I am the wind, be my tree, I do beseech!
Ethereal, unseen-yet alterations I may make!
Magnificent, beautiful-away, my gust, you take!
Together, we are an ever-changing landscape,
Making wondrous reality out of our dreasmscape!
A tree, without its wind-breathless, becalmed:
A wind, without its tree-purposeless, withdrawn!
The wind sweeps around the tree, the tree dances
More inspiring is this than all other romances!
I, the most powerful wind, you, the most beautificent tree;
Wonder do I what, as one, together, we may be!
Maurice Harris,30 August 2009
poem by Maurice Harris

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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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Feather in Universe!
Feathery, feather, feathery
Blowing wind, it twirls and dances
Drenching rain, oh, feather, feathery
Like the Stars, Planets, in their orbit
Mystic and steady they go, no pillar
A distance to cover, energized, re-energized
Hmnn, feather, feather, feathery,
No staking, own, and alone, traversing
A soul in the wind, in Universe, Oh, feather!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola

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Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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A May Wedding
A May Wedding
As a bride who has the long veil around her head
The dogwood has white petals and they hide branches on the tree.
When it is time for her to kiss the groom
And the petals fall gently.
They become a white cloth spread neatly.
This looks like a wedding dress with a long train behind her
As she is walking down the aisle in the room
The wedding bells are ringing until she is out of sight
The wind appears and I see white doves in flight.
poem by Meg Harrison

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