Poems about trees



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№ 1209725

So Too The Callous Trees

Reddened legs dangle over the edge of summer
Feet kick in time with passing rail cars
The heat of the day soaks through your clothes
Yet you shiver a little at the touch
Of a cold steel tendril from a bunch of yesterdays
The daylight passes in big meaty chunks now
Leaving wide charcoal grill marks
And there's a damned spilled-syrup stickiness
That persists on a spot on your forearm
Late afternoon means a silica-sand grit
When you run your fingers through your hair
And still that heavy waterlogged boot
That you can't get a hand around
Sits in the hollow of your stomach
Along the sidewalk ahead now
The trees callously toss their shadows
Uselessly across weedy lawns
Rather than provide an ounce of shade for your path
Oh you'll see the end of all this alright
You'll come out the other side of it all
Feeling for the source of the draft
Under the door
To your one room apartment
And smother it there
Where it lies
With the same old tattered blanket
That you used
Last year.


callous,  trees.

Author: ottaross
+0-
Date: 06/04/2020


№ 1207920

Winter's Bare Trees

Another winter's come, the trees lay bare,
Mere skeletons, stiff standing, 'pon the ground,
Like you, protruding from the mind, no sound,
A quiet remnant, gone, but always there,

The trees wait patiently for that one day,
When life returns to every waiting thing,
I, too, await the Day of mankind's Spring,
When you'll return from where you've gone away.

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos


bare,  trees,  winter.

Author: Christos Rigakos
+0-
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1204736

The Willow Trees

In the briar meadow
Where the wind swings long and low,
Is the memory of a hidden path
Little women may not know.

The rancid smell of Crimson paint
Of Cupid's Scarlet Bow,
Scars its victim one by one,
A branding iron's foe.

It seals the fate of little girls
Before they come to be,
Who hide themselves to kindly peek
Upon the doe of The Briar Patches' knee.

The sweet sweet savor of blackberries
Growing wild along the lane
Delay return as all consumed
The berries from Orchid Lane.

The Whisper of the Willow Trees
That hide the Sacred Kiss
Loft the Billowing Sounds
Of a young lovers' hopeful wish.

But fate has never faltered
A Secret only the Willow know,
Why the Holy Crimson stain
Drips upon the Briar's doe.

Now the Garden only fills
The air of aged chills
Of a yearnings' life that only once
Thorned it's lovely ills.

Scarlet hushed the haunting Whispers
Made upon the Briar's Patch
While Cupid's proof kept itself softly
Far beneath the Willow's match.

Scarlet's quilted choker
Swinging in the breezy wind
Tell the blessed beauty's life
Of a dearly devoted friend.

Life once so treasured,
Now so very long ago
Leave the only trace upon The Garden's Lot
In the evenings' glow.


trees,  willow.

Author: Kathy Steen Dillard Bailey
+0-
Date: 02/04/2020

№ 1204376

The Twin Oak Trees

The Twin Oak Trees,
The tallest there was,
Thousands of squirrels work in it,
One day
Two mighty dragons came a crashed into them,
One for each,
The Trees caught fire,
Most of the squirrels perished,
But every squirrel that day,
Mourned for the squirrels that were lost.


oak,  trees,  twin.

Author: I Know Things
+0-
Date: 01/04/2020


№ 1203108

Pleasant trees

Some may call it cliche, but I think I found myself today
Standing there under the small waterfall and gazing up to watch the individual drops spiraling down towards my face in slow motion, almost as if each one, slowly yet rushed, leaned into kiss
My eyelid, my open mouthed smile, my collar bone,
Without hesitation.
They knew exactly where they wanted to fall and land,
But they wanted to get the timing right;
They wanted the moment to be perfect.
And good God, was it.
When I reached my hands out, rainbow tinted droplets puddled in my palms,
The sun glistened against my pale skin and the water gave me satisfying chills like no other.
Vividly colored wings fluttered by my feet and the emerald leafed trees
Shadowed and protected me and rocks of burgundy and taupe clay cradled me.
It wasn't the giggles escaping his mouth each time she slipped in the mud, or the way she danced careless and free beside me
That reminded me how great a treasure this life is; pleasantries weren't what I needed.
It was the intricate patterns of the silk and spider skeletons.
It was the uphill climbing adrenaline.
The masterpieces not created by men.
It was the sound of the water trickling between nooks and crannies.
The elflike mushroom homes, the winding creek paths and bees.
The warmth on my shoulders and glare through the trees.
It was the symbiosis of all of the living things around me
That most don't think to actually consider alive...
But how could I not,
When they're the only ones making me feel the same way?


pleasant,  trees.

Author: Sag
+0-
Date: 31/03/2020

№ 1203098

The Leaves Of The Trees And The Grass Of The Plains

And again I found myself laying underneath the sun and above the shattered oak leaves.
Dressing the ground on a cold Autumn day, these tiny vessels carpet the woodland floor.
I find that we can learn much from the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plain,
I find that if one looks close enough, we really are no different than even these leaves.
Daily we're swept off of our branches and blown into countless differing directions, parting
Parting from one another when our time is decided, knowing not to where we fly.
And just like these leaves, we are truly simple beings, varying in color and size,
But all coming from the same root.
You see I've found, by only watching the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plains,
That once we come to know our roots, the directions we take are no more valuable than the petty pride we often carry.
So here's the deal you see, I really don't have much to say, so listen close.
No one person is better than another, no one person is more important than some other
And this is so, because our roots are the same.
As the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plains of this earth in which we inhabit,
We must come to realize that our leaves are not what matters, but the fruit we produce.
We must come to realize yes, that without healthy fruits of love and peace and kindness
Our tree is but merely a sore sight to those looking upon our arboretum from outside


grass,  leaves,  plains,  trees.

Author: Mason Webster
+0-
Date: 31/03/2020


№ 1202425

Our beloved trees.

"We will be replacing the curb and parts of the sidewalk. The trees will need to be cut down along with the one in the middle, We have marked them with pink ties. "

Wha???

Two Towering Old Maple Trees
Our trees.
Each bordering the sidewalk
But also near the curb
In front of our house
Each holding memories
Which go back beyond my ability to remember,
And yet each a solid part of my growing up in this house...
When I first met my husband and he would park his 68 Camaro under one of them. I was still climbing trees at 16. My sister carved her name and her bf name in the same tree. They were always there. ALWAYS. Like something you just KNOW is going to be there. Strong. Withstanding any weather for 52 years. Like our dad. Steadfast present trees. Part of our existence. Planted by the township when my parents moved here in '61 just before my birth. Part of me. Us. Our family. Our lives.

Shock. Utter disbelief. Anger. Bargaining. Acceptance? Not yet.

Our beloved Maple trees. Our beloved littler tree, now growing strong. Shade and privacy. Beauty. Sweetness. Life. Seasons. Cycles. Strength. Presence.
Our beloved trees. Two are steady and strong at 52 years are now towering over our house,
Beautifying our street along with many others.
A younger tree, a sycamore? ( has those little helicopter seedlings that spin when they come down), is center stage, next to our mailbox, but towers just the same
Next to our mailbox. Leaves are still green.

" Will you also need to remove that one? "

"Yes.: They all have to come down. "

" But... but... "

"Has to be done. The roots ruin the sidewalk. We will be replacing the sidewalk as well. "

"And will you be replacing the trees? "

"No but you can plant new ones on your property. "

"Okay... thanks. "

Shock. Tears.

I vow to the smaller one that I will find a way to pull it up... transplant it just a few safe feet away. "

I am broken. I just lost my father who LOVED our property. Loved this street with it's trees.

I am in tears as I type this. I can never tell my mother, who moved away a month ago. She is equally in love with our trees and was always frustrated when the township would come along and cut the branches so they could not touch each other across the road. WE LOVE our canopy of maples and now the ORIGINAL development with the OLD trees, the apple of my father's eye... my mother's eyes will become like a desert. It was one of the only things Mom and Dad had in common, a love of our trees. The shade trees. What else is there?

Oh... I will take photos. I will take movies. I will save branches. I will fall apart. I will go out tomorrow and buy two Bradford Pears and place them in exactly the same spot except on our side... to distract me from the carnage. I don't know HOW I am going to deal with the trees coming down. It's like taking part of my house down. The sadness comes in waves. It brings back the loss of my dad. It is dad's birthday today. Would have been 85.

I am so glad my father and my mother did not have to see this. THANK YOU GOD for that much. And for the Pear Trees which will flower in the spring and grow tall. Thank you. I am not okay but I will be. We will be. We will plant again. "Restore the Shore Club".

My mom always called our neighborhood 'Shore Club' as that was it's proper name when it was established, but it came to be known by it's current name, Hamtown, later.


beloved,  trees.

Author: g clair
+0-
Date: 31/03/2020

№ 1202037

Dulcet Trees of Spring

Suffused with sweet sound
Are the dulcet trees of spring.
From where do they resound?
How so do they sing?


dulcet,  spring,  trees.

Author: Tom Lock
+0-
Date: 30/03/2020

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