Poems about beech

№ 1199821

Where The Beech Tree Fell

This is where the beech tree fell
All that remains is a splintered stump
All the birds morn her death
And with no songs bow their heads

The forest weeps in silent tears in falling leaves
For she was the last boarder of the ancient woodlands
Now her shadow with never be cast in her majestic frame
Never one liken to her will ever be seen again

Through the years by the new road
She had endured motorized impacts
Even her new buds of early spring
Would replace their own when singed

Mighty was her endurance of winds swift and fast
She had withstood the blight of many a parasite
Had broken off limbs for the fear of loosing all
On hot heat waves that could finish ones all

In her younger years of life
She had witnessed great battles
Seen many a brave man
Fall on her espied battlefield

Yet that night of that great tempest
She made her whispers to the others
And as the corn turned bloody red
She resigned herself to her death bed

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

beech,  fell,  tree.

Author: Christos Andreas Kourtis
Date: 28/03/2020

№ 1168173

Manhattan Beech

A Look Upon the Beech
Of Time
Cast Upon the Sands
Of Rhyme

Dropped Dangling Stars
From Ceiling Fell
Each Caught by Pounding
Oceans Swell

These Gifts
Of Light,
And Space,
And Sea

Of Life
And Vision
Of Worlds
Are Key

OF Calm and Peace
Now Soldiers
This Cross
This Call
This Time
Soft Sharp

A Flame
Of Love
So Bold
Free Life
Sweet Dove
Free Soul
Free World
UN Strife

beech,  manhattan.

Author: KathleenAMaloney
Date: 29/02/2020

№ 951870

The copper beech tree

The copper beech tree,
Rooted over the road,
Seems ageless though it has been,
There since Grandfather Time,
Came from some unknown place,
And implemented his power,
Into the land.

The copper beech tree,
Hangs over the road,
The branches move,
Like a body of
Fine hair in the wind,
To and fro to and fro to and fro.

The copper beech tree,
Still over the road,
Sees all walks of life,
The scolding tramp, the
Busy mothers, the
Mindless teens.

The copper beech tree,
Watches us from over the road,
Gazing into this silent home.

It knows, it realises,
It sees, it feels,
All the way down,
To its wise roots.

beech,  copper,  tree.

Author: Katie Hagan
Date: 16/08/2019

№ 827472

Where the Beech Trees Are

Hoist the anchor
Set your self adrift.
Loose the sails
Let the winds lap at the white cloth.

The storm has passed
The waters calm.
The deep blue
Once more at peace,
The skies reflected in the clarity.

And in the silence
In the perfect wonderful silence.
You hear it.

So deep and mellow.
Its tranquil
Like a cold spring morning,
Frosty air with golden sunlight
The silence unbroken.
The wind still chilled
Like melted tendrils from winters grasp.

You must row out far
To where the beech trees are.
Far out into the vast blue
There you will know
Exactly what you must do.
There you will find me
And there you will find you

Across the deepening sea so far
Across the waters
Where the beech trees are.

So row out,
Row out and see,
Row out and forever be.
The man who conquered the sea
The sea for me.

beech,  trees.

Author: Mark Steigerwald
Date: 26/04/2019

№ 622372

The Shores of a Beech Tree

Orphan roots are banished into Bermudan-like triangular realms of presumed stability off the coast of Neptune,
Whilst abandonment firmly establishes her ancient dendrology.
Are your connections deeply entwined in the postmodern era of presumed certainty and deluded rationalism?
The method of self-transfiguration is evidenced on the mountain-tops of vanity, where the purging of the soul with self-flagellations is an archaic and scornful memory to those who claim to be enlightened.
How rooted are your roots? Does your reason stand trial in the docks of uncertainty?
The autumn leaves are changing color, and the birth of death reveals a beauty which, when embraced, flutters her powerful wings in the dawn of a frosty voyage.
I believe in ripples of probability.

beech,  shores,  tree.

Author: David Barr
Date: 22/10/2018

№ 470338

The hen, the fox and the beech-marten

One day the fox
Asked the hen
What she thought about the beech-marten,
To keep the secret.
The hen
Said that the beech-marten
Was wicked
Because she wanted to eat her.
The day after
The fox and the beech-marten
Ate the hen.

15. 1. '15

beech,  fox,  hen.

Author: Gianfranco Aurilio
Date: 06/06/2018

№ 333719

That Pissing Angel At The Corner of Tennessee and Beech in MayBerry Hell

The stone Angel fascinates me
And repulses me
It stands about 8 feet tall in a fountain
Its made of white fake stone
It pees
He wears a gown and has wings
His white hands gather around his middle holding a far too small water jug
Unless your within 2 feet of it
You can't see the little stone jug
It stands at the Corner of Tennessee Avenue and Beech Street here
In front of an ugly little strip mall
I walk by it and we smile together
That Angel and I
I said to it one day, " How lucky you are to get to eternally piss on this MayBerry Hell"
He smiled back
He pees as the children play by
As temporary lovers hold hands
He pees as the old people hobble by with their canes
When giving directions, people here actually say, "You know, it's down by where that Angel pees. " OMG
Sometimes I wish I were he

angel,  beech,  corner,  hell,  tennessee.

Author: Petal
Date: 02/02/2018