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Free Verse Tree Poems | Free Verse Poems About Tree

These Free Verse Tree poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Tree. These are the best examples of Free Verse Tree poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Somber Days

I am somber like November days and my words speak weak, as if through tired tongue I see the trees stand naked reaching their limbs across the stream as if touching and comforting each other from the bitter cold that's settling in sometimes I envy them I want to stand naked arch my back reach towards hands and feel the comfort of more than I am allowed and escape the bitterness as it settles in it doesn't seem fair to question a day or night that wears the same veil as me, colorless and silent in the breeze as it whispers through the trees sometimes I want to lean my ear and eavesdrop on them I want to peak beneath the skies veil and see the colors blend to see the rain less clear through colored drops fall upon a canvas and paint a masterpiece I want to feel my hands finger a pen, without tingling from bottled up emotions to feel my soul inside me not as if locked outside looking in, as if a stranger to my own life not be the afterthought or an emotion beyond words of some poet's muse I want to know the meaning of this emptiness I want to understand why the tree is as naked as my thoughts in winter yet dressed heavy in the summer and most beautiful in the fall why does beauty fall become grounded and dance in November's wind somber, like the day....

Details | Free verse | |

Eleven Words

A busy road.
A tree stump.
An old man.

Everyday at eight 'o clock
He sits there, cane tapping
just watching cars go by--
I among them

Such a lonely man
I say to myself

Same busy road.
Same tree stump.
Same old man.

He looks up, cane twirling
and smiles at me
in that split second
I smile back

A roadside friend is gained.

Same busy road.
Same tree stump.
Different old man.

Day after day
He waves hi--cane dancing
I wave goodbye,
no time to stop

Same busy road
Same tree stump
No old man

I screech to a halt
Ask of his absence

a piece of paper
found taped on his cane
I weep in my car
and send a prayer
of thanks
to my roadside friend

Eleven words
Changed my world.
"Thank you lady in the blue car.
You make my day."

Same busy road.
Same tree stump.
Different me.

Details | Free verse | |

This Tree

This tree stands alone

against all others,
its bark set ablaze
from ninety-three million miles away,
as though time and space
and even air itself did not exist.

It stands guard over me,
branches suspended in their dance,
as if to touch my hair.

And even when my back is turned,
my eyes closed,

there is this tree.

Details | Free verse | |

Lessons Learned from Trees

"A woodland path in the dappled sun, hushed and quiet "

                                                             ~A Rambling Poet~

A canopy of trees
filters the sun for me,
and I am grateful...
For I do not feel like 
having the rays glare
in my eyes today,
in a brooding mood I am.

The earth is damp,
drunken with dew,
seemingly commiserating
with me

I lay myself down,
jagged rocks beneath me
--cutting, rough--
and I welcome it
For it grounds me,
a reminder
that not everything 
is sunlight and blooms

I sink in my darkness
and close my eyes
to dwell in it and drown,
just sighing

For an eternity,
I am mired with
muck and moss in my mind,
thoughts eroding
to nothingness

...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment

The trees above me 
stand tall and proud
in their radial glory,
the sun just
breaking through,
shimmering, dappling
my cold being

Leaves gilt with light
blink back in awe
and I am floored,
blanketed by warmth
of hushed spirits 
surrounding me

These trees 
tell their tales
of growth and survival,
of yearning for 
that light,
of their struggle
to catch a glimpse
of heaven...
of capturing 
its light,
using it,
feeding off from it,
in order to 
give back to others

some of them stumble
yet most of them

I am humbled.
I am awed.

Yes, the canopy
gave me shade,
temporary darkness
from the light,
I look up again
and realize
that the tiniest
pinholes of hope exist,
reaching deep within...

little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life

--June 11-12 (2011)

Details | Free verse | |

Little Blue Pill

Went through a phase....thought maybe I should live life to the fullest,
and stop giving away 8 hours of each day, towards sleeping.

After the first week of sleep deprivation,
Buddha and Jesus both appeared simultaneously,
started following me wherever I went-
couldn't tell between hallucinations and reality.

Buddha helped write my final exams,
and Jesus always made sure that I didn't forget to eat.

After the second week, I was floating above my body....
no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall asleep anymore-
didn't just have second and third winds....I was having winds 
to the 99th power extreme.
Jesus was telling me to try again and again,
while Buddha told me to hang in there,
for Nirvana was just around the corner.

Asked my buddy for some help,
and he gave me this little blue pill -
don't even touch aspirin anymore.

Well, the pill knocked me right out! 
Tried so hard to fight against it,
having some doubts about what I had just swallowed.

Metallic galaxies of inner stars began pulling at my eyelids,
adding their massive core-gravity to my temples.
Red turned to black inside of my mind,
as little globules of pulsing light
floated before my inner-eye.
d      o      w      n,
down, I spiralled,
thinking about picking cherries from the apple tree in Eden....
beautiful Japanese Geishas propping up the ladder
that pointed down into the rabbit hole.
Up was down,
as cherries were apples?
The branches of the tree resembled its roots in the ground-
perfect mirrors of each other,
as I sat in both places at once;
dream double looking back at me.

ZZzzzzZzzzzZZzzzZZZz....for almost 62 hours straight.
Must have lived a thousand lives in those dreams.
Woke up, wasn't sure if I was still sleeping?
Awoke into sweat and stale urine.
Started falling asleep in school.
Fell asleep at work.
Once you swallow the blue pill,
you can never go back-
the rabbit hole stretches into eternity.

Details | Free verse | |

Blackbirds In The Rain

blackbirds in the rain walking among the fallen leaves under the old mango tree with dripping leaves bathing the grass below blackbirds diligently lifting the rain soaked fallen leaves peering underneath for insects and worms flushed out by the drizzling rain pausing to gulp one down then scooting off again searching for more sitting under the shed with raindrops playing their music on the galvanised sheet roof with a beat that resonates within my inner being putting me in a trance connecting me to the rain and the puddles on the ground with the raindrops gently tapping the water's surface creating rings that collide with one another disrupting their individual shapes creating a dynamic new pattern reflecting their unity and bubbling with energy in the drizzling rain O what a deep feeling of peacefulness and serenity with the rain the dripping leaves and the puddles serenading my spirit with the eternal song of Nature and merging it into the Unity Of All Things
It was raining today. There was a constant drizzle for hours. I sat in a shed attached to the house, watching the blackbirds in action in the rain, searching for their food. The constant rhythmic sound of the rain on the galvanised sheet roof of the shed and the gentle drama playing out in the backyard with the blackbirds was a spiritual experience for me connecting me with Nature and the unity of all things as mentioned in the last verse. .

Details | Free verse | |

Open Handed Thief

The birdfeeder hung on a narrow limb,
away from deck rails, discouraging squirrels.

No problem for the little robber 
who raided the feeder day by day.
Repeatedly, he climbed onto a tender branch, 
inching forward until it bent, riding it down. 

Each trip, he leaned off and dropped freestyle, 
disappearing inside with only a furry tail visible.
He emerged with both cheeks bulging , 
and sunflower seeds scattering  below.
On a continuous march of palm-less thievery,
the brassy chipmunk mouthed his loot home, 
adding to his cache.    

Details | Free verse | |


Poverty made me once climb a tree
sitting high in its breathing crown
I became wealthy with the swallows
the eternity of swirling torpedo skies
swallowed me in its massive silence
only the wind whispered to me softly
telling me with the wishes of the sunshine
that god loves me

Details | Free verse | |

Touching Twilight


In the solitude of an ebbing day, there is a twilight blush along the hills

        And a world switches direction, if tumbling silently into eternity

Where shadows of telephone poles, along a country road,.....
                                        seem to curl,... and follow the curve of the earth

When the shadow of a tree becomes longer,.......
                                        than ever a tree was tall

When my own silhouette, so dark and stretched, and long,......
                                        seems to walk between earth and heaven

To feel such harmony at days end,  my arms seem longer,...almost without limit...
               long enough,...
                      so that I can reach out to catch the first star upon the evening sky,....
                                                  and feel the touch of God....

For Nette's Contest: "In 24 Hours"
By Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Silhouette of trees dressed in chiffon prints
Oaks, pines, maples tossing  their hair
I trail along their rumba curve
way down to where glazed bushes nestle.
Above roasted sail of Laguna River
crossing a, foliage begins to seethe
on flamed leaves amidst summer’s  embrace,
as  more timber follow a  float
where mauve petals kiss the air.

The bronzing of glens and wheezing of mist
reach a coaled ember of summer fire,
cluster of moments drapes veined trunk
with sniff of earthy scent, reminding me
how lush the branches swell against heat
of August ‘s coals when two pairs of arms
brush the stars with paint of reveries.
Warm the meeting of palms fondling the barks
In a dizzy sketch of romance, and then,
Like a curl of ambrosial boughs in rumba dips,

Trees hold passion’s charade, until...

Charlotte Puddifoot's  Vibrant Verse 2 Contest
- new poem

Details | Free verse | |

The Tree

The Tree

A tree stands tall,
in the forest is blended
I sit and admire it's strength,
simply splendid
For each of us has had time to take heed
Time to be fruitful,
give, and time to need

The wind picks up
I hear it call in a distance
It's the path I once chose,
the one with the most resistance
Oh woe, to my life of trouble and despair indeed...
as the wind redundantly shakes the branch with one last plead

Storms come and the rain soaks into the ground
The lightning, the memories
flash all around
Like a breath, in an instant
the calm sets the atmosphere

Don't look at the storm, what was
look at what has appeared

Some of the branches are left weakly unattached
It's the part to let go,
the part of the past
The sunlight now shines on the tree,
it drinks the rain
Ready to grow, flourish and blossom;
remembering no pain

Details | Free verse | |


I have dropped my pains on pages of poems,
the ink in my pen treasures my groans,the 
quill is my sword, with edges sharp enough
to sculpt the perfect picture, the quill is the
only thing you got when those devils try to 
get ya, the only warmth when those men or
women forget ya, I bet ya a million bucks 
and yes it sucks, but poetry is more than
just writing, its healing, remedy of feeling, 
dealing with the worst of you,  quenched the
thirst of you, a doctor or a nurse to you, 
sometimes you  get delusions and think it
gave birth to you, as it pours on its immensity
of worth on you, that's what enchanting words
will do.

One day I gave poe to a dying tree 
now it has grown it looks fine to me, boy oh 
boy the tree said to me, if it wasn't for your 
poe in tree  another day I wouldn't have seen,
but now I have STRONG roots running below
city's a million  feet strong and a billion feet 
long and I can stand to bear the blues jay on 
my branches, with songs all day long, I wrote his 
song it went like this poe in tree poe in tree gave
ETERNAL bliss to thee, oh by the way, I am
the tree saved by poe in tree poetry poetry

Details | Free verse | |

Tree, Roots and the Light

Tree  Roots  and  the Light 

The tall Tree was Flying, its leaves high in the sky,

Trying to go beyond the flying kites, towards the light,

Its roots were trying to penetrate the soil, 

Heading in the deep darkness, it kept moving without a shine. 

Higher its branches touched the Crown of mirth, 

Touching the lofty heights of light and the sky,

Its leaves and branches were flying and dancing,

In the joy of touching Light and those untouched, heights.

Some where, not far beyond the skies, lives dearest of our heart and soul,

I saw the Tree kept moving towards that One, it always adored, 

While its beloved roots too, were silently busy in supporting,

Without which, the Tree can never even stand to touch the lofty scores.

I thought and wondered, which one contributes more,

In touching the limitless, lofty heights and the glow of the sky,

The stem, which is blessed to touch the sky, or the roots that resembles,

A true beloved without which, the stem even can not stand for a while. 

The Tall tree was standing before me, unfolding its love towards the Sky,

With a high and prideful head in the sky, the tree was heading towards the glow,

Far away from its beloved roots, to feel the serene touch in the limitless sky, 

Going a little closer to that Glow, which we adore and love and call Almighty.


Kanpur India 22 08 2010 

Details | Free verse | |

Just a Little Word

It was a tiny thing
Just a little word
Made up of little letters
That you planted in my heart
You didn’t think much of it
You patted it down
And covered it with love

It wasn’t much
Just a little word
Little letters
Laced with encouragement
Dipped in love
In my heart
Watered by my tears
Warmed by the sunlight of your care

G   r   o  w  i   n  g

Strong and beautiful
A word tree
Bursting into bloom
Breathtakingly Beautiful Blossoms
Flowers that never shrivel
Or fall
Or get blighted by the frost of criticism
Eternally growing
In the garden of my heart

I weep tears of joy
Exuberant joy
You planted
A little word seed 

Not knowing
My heart is fertile
            My heart is rich
                        My tears plentiful
Not knowing
You’d left me
An eternal gift
Of wonder and beauty

“But," you say, “It just was a word!" 

                                                                  u    s   
                                                             j                t


                                                              t              y
                                                                   i    n  







                                                            W   O   R    D

                                                    Eileen  Manassian Ghali

Details | Free verse | |

A Look Inside

I came as an unaffected statue
Halloween depiction depicting everything
vaguely-leaving margins for misinterpretations
like hieroglyphics deciphered by illiterates
scawling crayon scratch book reports

Walk in these shoes
Feel the pavement scrape through openings worn through souls
and feel the contours of the Earth ravaging
Take the reigns of this chariot
rambling around on undiscernable tracks often
backwards-hobbling humbly
numbly picking up pieces from a patchwork jigsaw
picture possesing voids in the most beautiful places

Climb this tree and know the shaky footfall limbs
sprawl like weeping willow tendrils on my fathers branch
bare and abandoned like locusts came, fed, and fled
watch the forest flourish and realize
this tree is flawed yet resilient
rooted in the strength of adversity

Stethoscope this heart and enjoy the offbeat beat
thumping in uneven peak and valley arrythmia
loving deeply and loved shallow, coldly
berating every executioner who killed
my adoration quotient with dull unfeeling axes
Leaving tides turned, churning me to hurt
Leaving no paths passing me passively
~~passion is my blessing and curse

Details | Free verse | |

What Is It To Be A Tree

What is it to be a Tree?
Do trees ever mind being so close intertwined ?
Do they ever long for space as I do? 
Do they prefer to be so meshed…branches touching branches
 all the time or do they like me long 
............................................................for autonomy

Do their branches reach for another’s touch? 
….................stretching to find it?
Do they cling and pine when isolated …as we do sometimes?

When a tree falls does another one grieve?

Do they sometimes wish to be free?
To be as free 
as he does....... from me?

Does life always include such serious stuff? 
Or do trees simply shift in the breezes
of superfluous fluff?

Do they ever 
to find
the sea?
To fly 
to fly?
like me?
What on earth is it like be?
to be a standing…a standing only ...are they lonely? 
beloved tree?
What is it?
to be a tree?

Details | Free verse | |

My Friend Pine Tree

My Friend Pine Tree 

Away, quite away from my nearby Allen Forest
One day I was moving on a hill top 
On a Himalayan mountain hill
I found myself standing 
Before a beautiful and majestic Pine tree

The tree was tall and beautiful
The wind was blowing,  its sprigs and leaves
As if, a flute blower was playing with its flute
The Pine tree was swinging and singing
Creating a melody of its own
I too got lost to watch and hear that music
And felt as if, the tree wanted to speak with me

I gently touched the tree and felt its thrills
A sensation ran through my spine and body
I found that the Pine tree was singing in joy
The breeze was full of drizzling and the hanging clouds
Were touching and embracing the hill top tree
While the sky was flashing a brilliant light 
And I was charmed by that magical yellow light 
Coming from a slice of the clouds, hovering on another hill 
And showering on the Pine tree and on every thing all around
Every things including me was taking a bath 
In the rains of that magical defusing light sublime

I again felt a sweet sensation running my spine
When a sprig of Pine tree touched my fingers
As if, it was trying to shake my hand with pleasure
To show how happy was the Pine tree 
To find a friend in such a weather sublime

Overwhelm by the sensations of pleasure I felt 
While standing before the Pine tree and beholding
To dance and sing with the tree in those moments
To celebrate the treasure of joy, it had given to me
And remained in an state of ecstasy till I saw 
What humans have done with other Pine trees
Which I saw on the other side of the hill

The trees here were brutally cut and slain
To get the resin from the trunks of every pine tree
I saw them crying and weeping with agonies
And their was no music and joy in their thrilling
Although the wind was touching them here also
But I could not behold my friend Pine tree 
In that state of agony any more.


Kanpur. India  01st December 2009

Details | Free verse | |

To a Weeping Willow

"the willows dip
Their pendent boughs, stooping as if to drink." William Cowper

To a Weeping Willow

The graceful, sweeping green
I remember seeing it,
my first weeping willow
 graceful trails of leaves
bending to touch its own reflection
Growing on a creek bank thick with grasses
 I lay there in the soft tufts,
 dreaming, staring up at clouds
watching the zig-zag flitters
of a butterfly.

Now days never seem so long

Wherever its pure tapestry reigns
in fragrant gardens, wherever 
they take root; on creek-beds 
sometimes by a charming bridge.
Weeping Willows have become for me
symbols of long peaceful days

I stop to gaze at them in gardens,
in paintings, in books that picture them
my hand lingers on the page

Beside a lacquered pond they still
 touch their own reflections
 with long, whispering  trails 

 Once, in a dream, I saw one
with pallid catkins,
 on a   lonely promontory
 beside a forgotten grave-

 an echo of grieving.

Suzanne Delaney

Details | Free verse | |

Monarch Butterfly

hanging from the foliage
in your hundreds
repainting the leaves
in bright shades
of black and orange
with your waterproof
gossamer wings
of four inch span
so fragile and 
yet so strong
enabling you  
to journey south
across america
from canada to mexico 
breeding new generations
as you travel 
thousands of miles
with unerring accuracy
to the exact place
of your birth
to breed
a new generation
that will initiate 
the process for 
the return journey
to the north
in due course
you are indeed
the monarch 
of butterflies

Details | Free verse | |

Once The Domain Of Birds

Beetles, most likely, felled the giant.
A gruesome deterioration,
of a quiet magnitude,
ravaged inward.
Until, in the cold night,
root structure surrendered
from hardened ground,
to a misery of horizontal dust.
And where once the domain of birds,
was glorified above,
now gives shelter to ants and grubs.
Golden bark breathes no more.
A deathly gray instead petrifies,
the deceased former shade giver.
And yet as cell churns to molecule,
and molecule devolves its complexity,
soil enriches.
Earth becomes fertile.
And the dust again gives way to life.


Details | Free verse | |


Trees fluttering in the wind
Whispering to each other 
Secrets that they hold
Never to be spoken 
Sturdy as it stands so bold
Strong, protecting never broken 
Under it you reminisce
Of all things so soft-spoken
Childhood bliss, a lover’s kiss
Secret moments never to be woken

Details | Free verse | |


Cavemen thought only of self preservation and sex.
In someway evolution was faltered.
Man learned to measure:

You cannot hold an inch, or a mile,
you cannot see a pound, or a ton.
They are but measurements.
They do not exist but in our understanding 
our understanding of what they are.
You can hold a stick that is an inch long.
Yet, it is only a stick, and not an inch.
You can see a tree that is a mile away,
but it is a tree and not a mile.
A pound of butter is only butter and the pound 
is but the measurement of its weight and is invisible.

So is the same for innocence and evil ;
Innocence is love in ones heart for others
and how far a heart can stray from love is evil. 

Measurements of love.

Details | Free verse | |

Slender Birch

Steel Gray skies with threatening rain and restless wind
My breath gathers as mist on the inside of the window pane I watched for the school bus

A slender birch tree with spiral scars 
of flayed bark against its white skin
like curlicues of sharpened pencil shavings

Still clutching many bright yellow leaves, 
Some collecting at its base like a discarded garment
Sunlight, just a small shaft flickers bright dapples on tiny dancers
Ocherous curtains against the bruised sky

Prodigious vibrant final act
Just for me
The tree manages a sly curtsey 
in my direction, 
Sacrificing more of her fragile costume

My beautiful rosy-cheeked child kicks playfully
through the saffron sea of discarded programs
“Here are some for you Mama” he says
as he bursts into the kitchen smelling of peanut butter and early fall
There he deposits a chubby handful of my regard 
gently into my apron pocket

And into my heart's hiding place as well
Perfect poignant performance;
Beautifully done slender birch,
Most beautifully done

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas home decor- a wreath poem-N

Christmas home decor

Short and round is our Christmas wreath
Wreath we made of the tree branches
Branches are tied with the red ribbons
Ribbons stuck with berries,ready is the wreath.

Wreath is placed on our door’s foot steps
Steps away is the snow on tree not far
Far away, look, how He laid His holy hands
Hands on things He wants us to see and praise.

Praise him, be quick your voice to raise
Raise your hands his love to receive 
Receive love in your every choice forever
Forever on Christmas with this decor wreath.


This type of poetry was first introduced by George Herbert, a contemporary
of Shakespeare. There are two ways to write it. In above poem, the last
word of the first line is the first word of the next line and so on. Or one
may use any word of the first line as the first word of the next line. Variations
of the word can also be used.

Details | Free verse | |

What Was And What Will Be

I cry until my entrails are laid out before me.
I watch the vultures,
My insecurities feast on my nerve ridden stomach.
I’ve repeated the cycle for many days.

My love forever stains
This sea of linens which was once our home.
The call of the sirens is strong
And resisting drives us mad.

How do I know my attempts are not in vein?
Is this futile?
The upkeep of this tree outnumbers the fruit.
I do not blame nature.
I allowed this.

As soon as I walk away you fully blossom.
I was always cursed with bad timing.
I must now focus on my own flowers sprouting
Before I plant anymore seeds.

You will continue to grow
As you always have.
And I’ll still marvel at your beauty from afar.
What a grand tree you were.

I retract my own roots and return to my bed.
I reminisce until I drift away.
Becoming a prisoner of my head.
Seeing pictures of you and me
And dreaming of what was and what will be.

Details | Free verse | |

Pohutukawa Tree

Pohutukawa tree I wonder
Which of man’s endless bloody battles
Planted you here?
Your venous red needle flowers
Drop to the ground below
Where they lie in corpuscle puddles

Whose mothers are they I wonder?
Lying in the branches
Morning the senseless loss
Of their loved sons and brothers

Pohutukawa tree
Reminder of war’s terrible cost
So Pohutukawa tree be
Keeper of the peace

Details | Free verse | |

Community Starts Here

Community starts here
Under this tree of sprawling branches
With thighs pressed against sinuous gnarled roots,
Our heads nodding and shaking with whurring yellow leaves
Adorning our heads and fluttering off into the river beside us,
Only to stick to the dipping twigs of the tree in such cool August air,
Such a smoky light, community will start right here.

Community starts here
In this small over-crowded coffee shop,
with faces in late morning glow, as old friends reunite to
the clang of dishes and the sliding of porcelain
On faux-mahogany, elbow-elbow expressions brighten
from the whiteness of day: "I got a copy of my documentary on DVD
In my car that I can give you, if you like?"
"Oh really, well, okay..." This is the post-Sunday Mass air
Where light and love swirl as opportunity and re-emergence
And everything feels as natural as a breeze, with the fluttering of
Newsletters, roommates wanted ads, yoga lessons, and announcement
That a new spoken Word artist is arriving in town who's blind but has a dog and took the
bus from Ohio and reads his words like honey for angels, 
This is where community starts. 

Community starts here
On the playground of a hundred tumbling children
Screaming, tugging, jumping, laughing, crying, and dreaming.
Slow this time down and imagine them all 30-years-old with suits
And private thoughts and caged feelings and fully-fleshed with the
Citizen's kinetic energy to do right and wrong, good and bad,
Picture them as you, then picture how you're reflected in their eyes like
Revolving suns with times for dinner, and now flash back to the monkey bars,
Back to the open-souled shining young stars, here on their battleground,
in this galaxy of fun and terror our community finds it seedlings.

From the cafe to the riverbank,
From the playground to the People's Court of Whatever You Can Think Up,
Community starts everywhere,
But my bathroom.

Details | Free verse | |

songs from the woods

            walking silently with the spirits of the woods 
             the stunning acquaintance of a snowy Owl
             Hearing songs from many around yet not seen or found
             careful your crossing a coral snake or copperhead
             preparing to wave all rights to see beauty to live
             one piercing bite from the red and yellow snake 
             deadly shy snake sudden death may await your fate

             stillness and earth is touched with Cherokee blood 
             many tribes with sage and fires dances the brave
             you see the wild mustangs ride and deer in mind
             the squirrels the rabbits and wolves you hear
              the woods once a many land to explore
              becomes extinct with Mans desire to build more
              how much can we take before it is gone forever

              entered  " in the woods contest "

Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home

Details | Free verse | |

The Backside of Killington Mountain

Killington Mountain, one of the largest Ski resorts in New England.
With its webbing of trails, dotted with colourful kaleidioscopic ski outfits;
racing to the Castle they call a Base Lodge.

My Cabin is atop a mountain across two valleys from Killington's backside
I can see the untamed, wild and free side of Mother Nature's: True being
Where deers have no fears, and the Bald Eagle soars Free

I once did a recue mission there, and when all were safe, I walked
Into the forrest of Nature,where mankind had never before intruded
I walked where the Deer, Bed. where the eaglets squawked for food

I saw the Black Bear awake; "Good Morning Mrs. Black Bear"she Yawned
And walked away.I heard the Evergreens giggle as melting snow ticked Pines
The Serenity,Tranquility,enveloped me in Nature's Wonder of the World.
      Inspired by Linda(PD) with her Contest: 7 Wonders of the Ancient and
                     New World. This POEM is one of my 7 Wonders.
This is Dedicated to all POETS who have written about the Autrocitys of 
Mankind to "  Nature or THE Beauty of Mother Nature in Rhyme "
                           This is not a Contest Entree

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Our Holiday Home

Christmas boxes full of memories down from the attic they come
The house was so quiet everyone starts to hum
A wonderful feeling being overcome by holiday cheer
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year

Boxes and boxes to go through finding something broken is my fear
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year
Here come the guys with their fresh cut tree
It will look beautiful just you wait and see

Our beautiful picture of Jesus forever hangs on our wall
The tree must set just right so the light on top upon Jesus will fall
Christmas is about our dear Savior in our home is quite clear
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year

As the tree is decorated we talk of past Christmases and our love
ones now passed on
We find peace being with each other and happy to know we have
kept one another from becoming withdrawn
A toast of cheer we raise to those in heaven and feel them so near
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year

It is a joy to come together with loved ones we hold so dear
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year
A family less fortunate then us we will visit this Christmas Eve
Spreading joy and love to the family and seeing their smiles as
they once again in our Lord believe

Christmas day does arrive...a beautiful day to which we thank 
our Lord above
The day or our dear Savior's birth whom without we would never 
have love
We sit at our table and say pray before we have our meal with
loved ones we hold so near
Welcome to our holiday home at this special time of the year

Written By: Carol Brown
Written for: Holiday Hearth Contest
Sponsor: Linda-Marie
1st Place Winner

Entry for P.D.'s Best Holiday Poem Contest
4th Place

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a slight breeze and loosely packed snow on yonder branch comes tumbling down in myriads of tiny snowflakes each flake becomes a miracle glistening in the streetlight like a diamond

Details | Free verse | |

The Whittler

Upon his grandfather's rocking chair 
on the porch in the cool crisp air
sits a man with a special gift.
For he can see the soul of a tree
within a piece of wood upon his knee.

His pile of cedar gives off a sweet smell.
He picks through the pieces, eyes closed,
his touch feels what is enclosed.
As if he were to reach within the wood 
by pulling  it apart  from its protective bark 
and removing what’s inside from the dark.
The Whittler will release this soul from its cage!

Each meticulous movement of the knife in hand
is meant to bring out something so grand.
After hours of work, fingers cramping into knots
the soul held within in this piece arose
to be a magnificent fully blossomed rose.

Beautiful just like the ones his gram 
planted beneath her father's old cedar tree, by hand.

Adam Hapworth, With These Hands, 12/13/2013, Image #3

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Train Journey

I sit here by the window
and watch quietly
as the train moves along
I see land - 
wild beautiful land
still untouched by man
and it creates within me
a feeling that is wild and boundless

The beautiful trees
in many places
so closely clustered together
though of mixed species
seem to cry out 
a message of love and unity
to all mankind
I see flowers - 
plain simple flowers
there is a beauty in them - 
the beauty of simplicity

There are children on the hillsides -
the country folk
people call them
My heart sings as I watch them
They know us not on the train
but yet they wave at us
and we wave back at them
because their action is filled 
with some sentiment 
that is pleasing to us

Shimmering little pools of water
pulsating with life
appear and then vanish
out of sight
but the picture of life
within them
remains with me

The cows and the horses 
graze in the pastures
some sit
others browse slowly along
O how I envy their leisurely
pace of life!

Details | Free verse | |

If I Shall Grow Old 2K13

If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.

Details | Free verse | |

The last tree

A pretty oak  sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain 
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away 
Decorating the tree with  flashes of red, black, grey,  yellow and white, 
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
 They sing , chirp, and  chatter in harmony of song 
As the seasons pass, we live  thru heat, drought , cold and  rain all year long
 I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three 
 to make their run at the seeds and grain 
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall 
At winter they covet  the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
 A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough 
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings  the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of  sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground 
 The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest 
To nurse  and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of  the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful  life 
 everything is real with very  little strife
 Among the colorful citizens of  this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun 
But life  changes,  very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down 
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground 

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Christmas Dinner with Friends

I am afraid that I have no family
members left.  So usually my holiday 
is spent with my two best friends: Leslie,
 65; and Anne, 77. I am 61 so it can be 
quite a job finding commonalities between 
the three of us. Neither Anne nor Leslie
like to celebrate Christmas, but I do, so 
I learned to make a big fuss over it until 
they give in. So far I've succeeded with
having a Christmas tree and some outdoor
lights...and of course a big meal. I'll never
forget the first Christmas I spent at Leslie's, 
a big fan of the baked potato. I was thoroughly 
aghast when I was served one baked potato 
with some butter and sour cream. Where is
the dinner, I thought. So I waited awhile and 
searched the cupboards for some cranberry 
sauce or anything that resembled a holiday 
meal. Nope, one potato, that was it. I didn't 
say a word but next Christmas I started early
presenting my demands. Things gradually 
got better each year, this year we're actually
getting a Christmas tree and serving prime 
rib for dinner...ahhh....blessed Christmas.

December 9, 2012

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like diamonds

two hits and i’m hanging off cliffs, listening to water


watching moss fall like snowflakes.

nothing holding my heels down but gravity, irrelevant to me.

the little girl exploring the ocean floor, the caves that once held entrancing treasures.

even tactile pain drives me into a gust of euphoria.

my heart beats (slower than it should), but the trees don’t mind.

the four shades of green blend to create a forest-

with each exhale, branches move in tandem.

and a salty tear falls from my eye,

reminiscent of what once was here.

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Nature Portraits - Mountain, Sequoia, Sunset, Thunderstorm, Waterfall

The grandeur of a majestic mountain standing proud against the horizon with its snow-capped peak enveloped in fleecy white clouds against a clear azure blue sky The glorious majesty of a stately sequoia towering above the surrounding vegetation being the largest living thing on earth its massive trunk over thirty feet wide with its gnarled rugged beauty The wondrous artistry of the setting sun edging the darkened clouds with silver linings and painting the evening sky in brilliant colours of the rainbow mirrored on the ocean's surface below The awesome power of a thunderstorm at night with jagged bolts of lightning that split the darkness and light up the surroundings with blinding dazzling intensity The thunderous roar of a mighty waterfall cascading down in huge torrents of liquid fury smashing into the water below creating mists of water droplets that transform the sunlight into a rainbow

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Tonight, a mural is brushed with a splendor of glazed branches : an arrangement of russet teal and orange; dappled wisps enticing my spirit for a pilgrim beyond my own angst. In pure delight, tendrils of leaves are aflame through the glory of a varnished summer. Feathery rims unfurl in dotted patterns adorning a cherry tree with iridescent flush as its arms seem to layout the stencils of hours' burdens. Yet, miniature stars flicker on its garment this cherry timber blowing heavenward, perhaps content in the grace of its caressed shade and bloomed fruitage; enough to guard men from rainfall and sun. I nestle under the trunk, searching for its beauty, and feeling its silence: a renewed breath heaves from petals born in earth's clay ,sewn by godly hands; ever- entrancing and evergreen. ................... Sheri Fresonke Harper's Teeter Totter Contest 6/26/14 by nette onclaud

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The Pearl Tree

There once lived a girl named curl who planted seeds of pearls.
As we all know pearls do not grow this her mother told her so.
But everyday when she went out to see if her pearl had become a tree.

Everyday what she found was the same, a bare sandy ground with no weeds to tame.
It was a shame to Curl that she couldn't grow pearls.
But Curl would not admit defeat and watered her pearls twice a week.

Then one day when she went out to see there it was a pearl tree!
Amazed she was to see such a site but then she saw something wasn't right there was not one tree but there were five all the same color shape and size.

At this time she knew these weren't her trees someone else had planted these.
She was told they were pecan trees  and in some years she could eat pecans.   
So years went by and she ran through the sand carrying bunches of pecans in her hands.

She cracked one open but to her surprise she found not a nut but a pearl inside!
Her mother was so happy that she started to cry.
Curl said "I told you so!" and ran out to find the pearl bearing tree.
And to this very day the pearl tree does still does stand providing richness and happiness through out the land.

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The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.

21 February 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Igor the Ogre

humans spotted, Igor hides ‘neath his bridge with watchful eyes, the bridge sees them pass “It’s safe,” she murmurs to Igor leaving the bridge’s safe retreat Igor knows his foes will be heading back “May I?” he asks the might oak “Let my branches carry you to safety,” the centuries-old oak responds, “I am strong; I will not break. Let my manly arms surround you.” torch lights borne by villagers approach again but the oak protects Igor, swinging its arms in the wind making it too dangerous for them to find Igor hidden he remains in this shaky loft caressing the oak’s arms in gratitude until the bridge whispers, “It’s safe to return home.” villagers' lights fade in the distance as Igor regrets being born an ogre with only a tree and a bridge to love
For the Fairy Tales Contest *Personification in the tree and the bridge

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Peace Of Mind

When stars close up their tails and go to sleep
The weeping willow lays her leaves upon the ground
Brushing soft against the wayward winds she sighs
Softer than the clouds above
And lighter than the wings of dove
She comes away with love
And brides the forest with her trunk
For it is only night that gives
The peace of mind that truly sieves
Like rain falling, from the eaves

Details | Free verse | |

A Woman's Heart

With women the heart argues, not the mind.

1. The stand of old growth Melalucas,  graces the lowlands of our farm.
For over fifty years,  accumulations of leaves have formed small soft islands.

“With selective clearing,” my husband says, "larger areas of grassland will grow. 
More grazing for the cows and less hay we’d need  to buy in Winter."

 Inwardly, I lament, not wanting to lose the beauty of these trees
with branches that rise like huge broccoli bunches against bright blue skies. 
My husband, much harder, by necessity, over-rules my sentiments.

2. Conveniently, earth-moving machines appear early on the first day 
of the New Year.  They cut a long swathe
but  on the dam are left a large row,  marked by me,
 for sanctuary.
They cast  reflections on the still water. 

3. The felled trees are piled into rough heaps.  Prophetically, the car 
of the Inspector for Primary Industries appears. 
“You must know, these are protected trees.”  
He asks for permits (not granted) and orders a ‘cease and desist.’ 
His scowling looks are an indictment. 

4. For months the operation was on  hold
and, then the rains came and the floods—almost our undoing. 
Flocks of water-birds  occupied the flats, nesting on the islands
formed by  the grassy hummocks. When these waters receded, 
an overgrowth of young melalucas sprouted, where the old trees 
 had once stood.  A network of roots underground  had signaled
a catastrophe.  New nodes erupted along all the root-ways.
Dumbly they announced their guardianship of the swampy land. 
“Give us back to time,” they said , but the  un-relenting slasher
leveled them again, so  grass could grow. 

5. I go back into my house now, secretly pleased the trees are speaking.
The topaz flames from the fireplace, warm my bones. 
The hoary frosts have come.   The envelope containing the D P I’s 
decision waits on the mantel shelf, propped by a row of grazing, ceramic cows.
 From the window I see our cows enter between the Melalucas.
They graze on the new growth pasture. 
I warm my hands, as the flames lick firewood. 

The scent from Melaluca smoke haunts me.

Suzanne Delaney
For Giorgio's Impress Me Competition.
Category: Nature

Details | Free verse | |


Silhouette of trees dressed in chiffon prints Oaks, pines, maples flushing their hair I trail along their rumba curve Way down to where young bushes nestle Above gentle sail of Charles River crossing a moat...slowly, foliage begins to drop thin leaves in nearness of autumn’s embrace, As more shredded timber follow in graceful float Where mauve petals kiss the air. The bronzing of glens and wheezing of mist Reach a final close of summer fire, Cluster of moments drape veined trunks With sniffs of earthy scent, reminding me How lush the branches swell against heat Of August ‘s coals when two pairs of arms Coated the moon with paint of reveries, Fresh the meeting of palms fondling the barks In a fleeting sketch of romance, and then, Like a drift of frail boughs in milder rumba dips, Trees hold sepia charades, until....

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Christmas Merriment

Snowflakes falling, falling all night
My pine tree adorned, now illuminating under snow
I brush and brush off, unveiling Christmas twinkling lights
Giving the white ground a colorful glow
An appearance of a Hallmark card, I must say
My children gather around the tree in merriment 
Then one by one they form fluffy snowballs
Laughing mischievously they begin to throw them at me
Well you can guess what happens next
Yep, before I was done they are covered in white
Red face and cold we all go indoors for the night
In front of the fireplace tired, beginning to warm
We look at each other and started to grin
Deep belly-laughs replaces the grins
You can't have enough of a good thing

For Nathan's "Christmas Joy" contest

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Memories Journey

I’m following the country road I learned to drive on 
the old green ford truck, black rusty stick shift, 
hand carved wooden blocks on my feet.
I glimpse a cane pole pulling a trophy from a small pond, 
The low branches of a weeping willows 
sweeping the ground like a broom,
laughter, innocent, young, still free, I look toward the sound, 
sliding down a red, rusty, tin roof on a worn old barn
into a pile of fresh turned hay!

Through the mist I can see her 
Swaying as she walks along the tree line
Humming a song she learnt as a babe 
black berry stained face and a bucket half empty.

A scream guided me to a new day 
she’s running up a Mulberry tree - stick in hand
a black and white Hampshire boar is displeased.
A grinding noise coming from where the old house lay 
a devious smile as her finger lifted the ice cream freezer seal.
The rooster with red, green and gold starting his morning crow
taking the eggs as she kicked him avoiding his spurs.
She’s older now - on a white and tan spotted horse called Sparky
with giant hooves for kicking when the spring breaks.
Mocking her hero, bib overalls, an engineers hat, black rubber boots 
shoveling quickly as the grain poured into the bed of the big red truck.

A crushed velvet chair with a sunken place on the arm where 
she sat year after year and her ever growing weight.
It’s where she learned to sew - and sow she did imaginary things.
Mmmm,  pies and cakes, wiping the flour off her nose!
Such hugs and happiness and youthful smiles
full of innocence and full of faith.

Driving across the brown and red rocks of the clear water creek
running, jumping in the cool deep welcoming pool.
Falling in the feather bed letting her body sink down and down 
into the sun dried cloud of white fluffy comfort.
The wheels just keep on turning and turning, 
within the moment of this memories journey.

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whose bony fingers
stretched above gloved branches,
you danced in the sunlight,
elegantly bowing
for scampering squirrels
and gifts of birdhouse rings.

whose springtime blossoms
scattered petals
for make-believe weddings,
you caught up children
and hugged them tightly
in games of hide and seek.

I run my fingers
along your weeping scars
where Earth’s fury tore
your hand from mine.
Splintered memories,
I have less air to breath.

Details | Free verse | |

Olive Tree

There wasn’t any way I could have boiled
and drunk yesterday’s cup of espresso or 
moved the olive tree past the ridge or make 
the sky forever purple, or perch with the 
sparrows and blue jays on an oak tree branch.
      There wasn’t any way I could have 
made the Pontiac go any faster or upside 
down or sideways while I sped down the
highway trying to escape my father. There 
were wars all over the world then, while I 
tried to look as beautiful as possible for a date
and walked down on the beach smelling the 
sand and feeling the soft spray of foam from 
an old fishing boat going by.
     There wasn’t any way I could cut my 
tongue out or replace it with a hand full of
lilies or olive leaves. I couldn't afford to listen 
to my friends anymore, as I hid in Long Beach, 
California and stay there at the thought of being
alive among the oranges and lemons and the 
sparrows with their infinitesimal red and brown
stripped lives and an occasional hummingbird.

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Being hunted

i sprint through the forest escaping the dark of night when i see it, the tree, the tree that sways apart from itself, grass still most with the dew of dawn i lean and indulge  into the greenery, disregard overpowers me as i find myself unaware of the tree's fatal intentions, i look into the tree trying to find something beyond  it, something more, and i do, and there she is, hideous, revolting, murderous, human, once i saw her i only got two steps before the razors entered  my body, but i keep running until the loss of blood consumes me, my last thought was, "humans, what do they not kill, destroy, take"

Details | Free verse | |

The Grief of Stayed Continuance

I’ve seen them: humungous stumps of once gigantic trees
 that made a forest sacred-
knowing it was men that lopped off such magnificence

Stealers of beauty and promise:
these amputations leave their scars
 on  the convolutions of mankind’s
collective brain

Where, if I could 
I would venture back in dreams to stay the axe
Let nature take her time  with this living, biggest, hugest.
Into forever let these branches spread their prettiness
Let generations stand in awe at their continuance.
Suzanne Delaney

Details | Free verse | |

Tree In A Forest

 I'm in a crowded place.  

 Others brush my limbs. 

 We look so much the same. 

 I easily fit in. 

 No one knows my name. 

 I am one of them. 

 Firry and firm. 

 A little junk in the trunk. 

 Wispy and thin, 

 I blow with the breeze. 

 I'm a little shady, 

 but stay if you please 

 as long as you'd like. 

 I've no teeth to bite. 

 If you come closer I won't walk away. 

 I've no legs to go. 

 I'm here every day. 

 The great outdoors is where I sleep. 

 They're all I've known. 

 My roots are deep. 

 This crowded forest is my home.

 By: Juliet Ligon
 Motif: Nature

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A sestet

we seek,but can never climb
the knowledge tree to the sky-
wisdom has,its limits,you see;
we can taste,the tree of life
sans any,struggle or strife-
just a turn,&we forever be

Details | Free verse | |

Life's little things

With silence quite astounding,
In pleasurable surroundings,
enthralled with all my mind can store,
watching the tops of the trees,
once more.
Like a calm ocean undulating,
to the motion of the earth.
Lying on my pine needle floor.
Watching light make it's way once more,
falling down like lasers beams
finding its way through canopy seams.
to enhance the colors inside my dreams,
Part of life's most astounding things

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Weeping Willow

Elongated branches
Poignant yet picturesque
Pointed little leaves
So comely and lush
The breeze
makes them dance
Quivering and shiver
Intricately entwined tree stalk
Robust and rugged is its center
The gust
makes it sway
As if it hears music
Distanced far away
sweetly whispering
To stay and pray.

Details | Free verse | |

Endless Tree

            Endless Tree

It seemed to be an oak with tan and dark bark
The climb aloft began by moonlight with certain ease
So many branches, almost like steps, falling in the dark
Footfalls from me to up above
A red round sun met up with me at day break
I refused to stop my journey skyward
For hours I ascended to the heavens
By daylight it was obvious to see, this was not an oak
Soft leather boots pulled me up and through
Thick leaves and appendages like arms, bending at the end
Held on to me as I held on to them
And we became each other’s friend
Perhaps half way up by now, I guessed 
I had to rest as legs and strength gave out
No doubt the tree might feel the same
If only it knew how
It grew in front of me as I looked down
Bad weather changes came
After three days climbing upon more climbing
Foreign tree, rooted in the ground, elevated by wind and rain
I continued skyward having nothing better to do
About a half mile further up and on
I perceived a protrusion or perhaps a hole
A lack of sleep had drained me to the core
I took my time and it took me but slower
Beef jerky and a flask of juice were all I had
My soul was also nourished in the loft
As green yellow birds built their homes
Insects ran about up there waiting to be eaten
And the wholeness of the tree kept company 
Kept us all alert up there
No doubt by now, the tree was in its element
I finally made my way to the giant hole or room
Looking above, the timber went on for miles in the sky
The tree had held a reservation for me to sleep
So I did as it requested as its guest
Crawled right in and settled down
To take a little slumber in the lumber 
Before proceeding      

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My Nest

Love is my nest.
It holds me
where all the world I see.
It saves me
from the ground
which my soul will never meet.

Up in a forest tree
hunters scattering in threes
they'll never catch me
I have love.
I am perfectly happy.

relaxed I am
I do not stress
for there isn't life
without my nest.

who cares what's below?
I am above.
love is my nest
My nest is my love.

Details | Free verse | |

Hold your chess and say I am blessed

Do not doubt who you 
are or who you can be.  
With in us all, 
their is a light that 
shines with effulgence. 
In our heart it shines. 
In our mind it shines.
A chunk of the sun 
embedded in our core. 

We have been fueled with
 the lions ambition.
Chasing the prey. 
Chasing dreams until the end. 
We have been fueled
 for the finest hours. 
Recognize those powers. 
These powers
 forever remain ours. 

We are the reason the sun shines. 
We are the reason the flower blooms.
We are the reason the tree never falls.
A message in every creation. 

The sun shines to show us 
how bright we can be.
The flowers blooms to show 
us how beautiful we can be. 
The tree never falls to show 
us how strong we can be.

All of this we can be. 
If we rise our self with the sun. 
Leave not your dreams and 
aspirations undone. 
Understand it to be beneficial 
in the long run.

Make life sweeter than a 
ton of sally-lunn ,sally-lunn. 
Out run the doubt until you have won. 
Understand that you are some one,
fit to run upon the sun and clouds.
Reach above and pick heavens flowers. 
So high up in the sky, gazing into 
the eyes of success. 
Hold your chess and say I am blessed. 
Your surroundings you impress.

Suppress, suppress and undress 
those doubtful thoughts.
Progress not digress, express
that light you possess.
Let success be your address. 

This I profess because once 
my light was put to the test. 
A light I lost in doubt. 
It was repossessed because
now I know I am truly blessed.
Do not doubt your self,
within all of us a light 
shines with effulgence.

By:Elliott Bowe
Definition for sally lunn:
a flat round sweet teacake usually served hot.
Enjoy: )

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About Ants And Trees

            About Ants And Trees

Shadows feed trees first against the suns reflection
Long shadows cast the smallest ants against their majesty
Though diametrically opposed to such strange creatures 
Shadows have no interest down below
Insects have no place to go but up 
Shadows must first feed trees in shade to give relief
Leave the ants till last
Blistering relentless sun dries the leaves and roots
Saps them of their energy and life 
Shadows come on stronger on larger objects
Such as mountains and taller trees
Insects such as ants are far too small 
Dodging the light on forest floor
They could be overlooked by these mighty giants standing tall
Trees get their fill of sun and shade and lazy shadows
The smallest ants know not to tamper with perfection
Progress and nature have to wait 
When light of day finally finds them scurrying away
Sun will find them early in the morning or late afternoon
On the horizon, that’s when we see the vast and great reflection
When even the smallest ants cast long shadows on the day

Created on 1/04/15 for – “Even The Smallest Ants Cast Long Shadows”

Details | Free verse | |

The Tree

Thunder rumbling in the distance
The sky has turned from gray to black
Lightning flashing brightly
Don't think this storm will pass

A huge boom shakes the night
Lightning has hit the ground
I see the flames glowing
From the bottom of our tree

The maple that I planted 
The day my son was born
It has grown just like him
From so little to now so big

Memories of children
Climbing up her limbs
The beauty that she brought 
In the color of her leaves

I'll miss this grand beauty
Winds whipping through her branches
The shade she would bring me
On a sweltering summer day

I say goodbye to this beauty
To memories that will last
Where birds would go to nest
And pretty songs they would sing

Details | Free verse | |


IF   A   TREE   FALLS. . . . . . 

If a tree falls in the forest 
And no one hears it
How do I know it fell?

If I fall in the forest 
Do the  trees hear me? 
If they don’t,  how do I know I fell?
Because of my grazed knees.

But  hey,
If the whole forest falls on me, 
No one will hear  -
Not me, not the trees:
So maybe no one fell at all.

Details | Free verse | |

To Risk a Tree

Is it sane 
To groom a tree 
And prune it carefully,
To water and support her.
Hold it strong for five and two score years
A now proud and awesome tree?

To nurse it back to life
When touched by booming light.
To praise  
Of fruit it shares,
The nest it bares
And the universe it holds.
And then,
To write in sand, 
And stir,
And trust a jealous carpenter 
With your finest saw.

Details | Free verse | |

Never Are Two Alike

never are two alike.

wafting to and fro with gentle breeze,
a dancing ballerina the twirling flake, 
motion with vicissitude it sings,
the vapor, the crystal performs.

in costume white appears its shape,
dendrite, needle, plates, and branches,
as stars afloat the midnight sky,
its nuclei the symmetry hexagon.

adrift in sea of air so cold,
the atmosphere burst forth like springs,
down the river of wind it flows,
the flake aglow, the moon it makes.

the perching flake atop the branch,
a tree its home a flake does nest, 
with noonday sunshine sure to come,
the snow, the flake, will be no more.

Details | Free verse | |


(Gado is the old name for Caucasus)
Translated by Viktoria Makatsaria

A black door opened,
A black man came out
In a black car.
A black fume appeared over it.
The man said:
‘Fume, where are you going?’
‘To the town of a skull,
To the low and high plants,
To the lung of a human’s child,
To the nerves and thoughts.’
The man took out a key,
Hit the black fume,
The fume tore off,
The black door closed,
The man went on foot.

A red door opened,
A red man came out
In a red car.
A red fume appeared over it.
The man said:
‘Fume, where are you going?’
‘To the town of a skull,
To the low and high plants,
To the lung of a human’s child,
To the nerves and thoughts.’
The man took out a key,
Hit the red fume,
The fume tore off,
The red door closed
The man went on foot.

A yellow door opened,
A yellow man came out
In a yellow car.
A red fume appeared over it.
The man said:
‘Fume, where are you going?’
‘To the town of a skull,
To the low and high plants,
To the lung of a human’s child,
To the nerves and thoughts.’
The man took out a key,
Hit the yellow fume,
The fume tore off,
The yellow door closed.
The man went on foot.

A white door opened,
A white man came out
In a white car.
A red fume appeared over it.
The man said:
‘Fume, where are you going?’
‘To the town of a skull,
To the low and high plants,
To the lung of a human’s child,
To the nerves and thoughts.’
The man took out a key,
Hit the white fume,
The fume tore off,
The white door closed,
The man went on foot.

A transparent door opened,
A transparent man came out
In a transparent car.
A transparent fume appeared over it.
The man said:
‘Fume, where are you going?’
‘To the town of a skull,
To the low and high plants,
To the lung of a human’s child,
To the nerves and thoughts.’
The man took out a key,
Hit the transparent fume,
The fume tore off,
The transparent door closed,
The man went on foot.

A bread door opened,
A bread man came out
With  a basket of bread.
A bread track appeared over it.
The man said: ‘Stay at home!’
The track said: ‘Go!’
They went and met another man;
He came from the wine door
With a jug full of wisdom.
They sat down under the tree:
Changed with one another,
Went away,
Their wives and children are waiting at home.

Other men saw them
And said  they would come to this tree again,
Maybe they will also take us.
The tree heard and said:
‘Come, stand near to me.’
They went and stood near it.
The transparent climbed up,
The rest stayed below
Gather round, bound the tree.
The tree said: ‘Release me!’
The transparent answered:
‘Don’t release, stay there!’
The tree opened its leaves,
Looked up with the leaves in the sky,
The sky looked down with the stars,
The men got frightened and said:
 Let us break up, everybody,
We go home.

The transparent  dragon
Swallowed the transparent man’s entrails.
The white dragon
Had the white man for breakfast.
The yellow dragon
Had the yellow man for dinner.
The red dragon 
Had the red man for lunch.
The black dragon
Had the black man for supper.
They stayed there where they were. 
Avoid us there fate,
The temple saves this tree for us.

Details | Free verse | |

My Family Tree

My family tree grew Mount Calvary

As my heavenly Father looked on, they crucified his only son

They pierced his side and his precious blood began to flow

In the shadow of the cross my family tree began to grow

He adopted me as one of his own and made me heir to a kingdom

that someday I will call home

Even now I am beginning to see the Father in me

His royal blood now flows through my veins,

For I’m a blood bought child of the king

Now each time I trace my family tree it always leads me

 back to Mount Calvary.

Details | Free verse | |

Take the Lead

God does not always respond the way one expects.

Its branches dressed in luscious green leaves
From the young look of the spring season
The cherry blossom tree had lost its sheen,
The petals of its flowers faded spread around its feet.

Of its pink blossoms, it had been so proud
Spreading their sweet fragrance thereabout 
Attracting couples young and old to sprawl
Expressing their love, such joy all about.

Now fewer people came by and when they did
Walked on by without even looking at it
It felt so alive in the presence of love, what a gift!
Had wanted this feeling never to end, but it did.

Said a little prayer to its Maker
Asked Him if he could bring back the flowers
It seemed to make people so happy
But nothing happened, and the tree felt lonely.

One day a young woman came by
She sat at its feet and began to cry
The tree felt in her the same sadness of loss
And wished it could comfort her somehow.

Said a little prayer again to its Maker
Asked Him how he could bring joy to her
A little wind began to blow suddenly
As if the Maker acknowledged its plea.

Its current detached one of its leaves
That fell on her right cheek upon a tear
With her fingers, she caught the leaf
Palm open, she looked at it without a speech.

A smile spread on her pink lips
For she saw in it a special gift
She wiped her face with the leaf
And turned her face up to the tree.

With a sparkle in her eyes, she said sweetly,
“Thank you. You lost all your flowers recently
Yet you gave me a gift of hope with this leaf
I know now I can take the lead.” 

By CarolineCécile, April 24, 2009.   

Details | Free verse | |

OF a Tree, Thee, and an Angel's Fee

Force feed me the taste of your skin

‘You will have to break my chastity belt wide open now
for I have sold myself into silent slavery to this ….our universal broken heart

even you will have to try hard……to save me now

I cannot recall your sounds…your hand motions 
as they devoured the subtle softness of me 
drew round my curvaceous places in curling ownership
intimacies’ sweetest embrace 

But too…you move to me 
with a ferocity that mowed the grass down  to a short golf course length 
from the living room table where you drew it happening… a hundred years ago

The length of your hair too has been a subject of much debate 
that surging heavenly song...that told our story so well
like that movie from long ago about the girl who cut off and sold her hair to buy her love a golden watch fob and chain …the one who sold his golden watch to buy her a beautiful clip pin for her gorgeous long hair 
……………………………… see how this goes …with true love

We cut off our noses and then turn backs on our faces 
and on each other on Facebook 

Itself the enemy…where only devils and the luckiest of angels spread

Tread on me beloved!
till I am awakened 
to our lips 
 which just now in writing I suddenly can feel meeting again

the salted brine of your pure water and sometimes beer soaked self

Is it me you feared 
as you said Good bye?

How little you know me 

like the formation of the first ever green tree grows up one limb at a time 
from a base long song of deep roots and strong beautiful the Hosts stagger before its creation ….Halleluiah
The limbs sprouting forth like the wings bursting out of the flesh of the first angel 
who died in agony as they were formed….exploding from his shoulders
moving her hair aside as the arch of wing thrust like white tree limb from the goodness within
and the reincarnation of true kindness was born to the conscious of itself

so my love knows no limit 
my soul no separation
and my being no longing

Details | Free verse | |

The Sounds of Summer

The Sounds of Summer

I was trying to hear the sounds of Summer,

Which often comes with heat and dust like a hammer,

Suddenly I saw, lots of clouds hanging in the air,

They were covering the Sun, as if some mystery was there.

How amazing and mysterious are the summer clouds,

How beautifully the Sun is trying to peep out,  

How lovely is the breeze, blowing all around me,

Intoxicating my mind, with its ravishing beauty. 

How beautifully the birds are singing and chattering,

While flying in the air with their soul mates, touching the clouds,

How enchanting is the fragrance coming out from summer breeze,

How lovely is the bunch of yellow flowers, calling me there,

While hanging on the tree of Amaltash,* and embracing it completely,

Oh yellow Amaltash, 

Why you bloom, so enchantingly in summer only.

How gently the Sunbeams have touched their smiling faces,

How softly the lotus is opening its petals,

And the Roses are spreading it charms in the air,

Should I remain here or should I go there?

After those alluring summer charms, which call me from here to there,

Or should I stand still to understand and to determine, 

What is the mystery of life? Which fascinates me every where,

How really blessed is human life to enjoy such blessings,

Which we often miss in our life by just overlooking,

Since we are accustomed to hear,  the usual sound of heat & dust only.


Kanpur India. 14th May 2010

Written for Laura Mckenzie’s Sound of Summer Contest

* Amaltash.             Common Name    Amaltas 
                              Scientific Name Cassia fistula (linn). In summer it has more 
                              yellow flowers, every where on the tree and hardly any leaves. 

Details | Free verse | |

American Tree

A tree aches and cries
Barren, twisted, neglected
Its fullness defected:

The rings count 
Two hundred thirty-two
Its outer mostly me and you 
(Both real and lore) 
The center: those who came before.

A young fruit ripens on the tree:
Oh how it shall save!
Chosen for a shine utterly divine,
A boldness sleek and brave.

A shade of green on a tree of red?
Unique in feel and easily fed
To the hands with three fingers of five 
pulled from branches, barely alive?

A rush of change, a blush of feel
Suddenly the tree does reel
With excitement:
Could this be its time to heal?

But after picked (through times and ways)
Its flavor sours; a brown, crinkled, experienced daze.

Three fingers drop a bitter core
While the tree still lives in dire need
As ever as it did before.

The tree weeps as growth is fought,
Will it ever seed (true) change in thought?

Details | Free verse | |

Our tree

Our Tree

Carrying green, luscious needles on gracefully stretching limbs,
Strong, straight trunk holding all that bounty together, 
Emitting cool, spicy fragrance that touches our senses with delight,
The Christmas tree is reaching for us.

We see, we smell, we hold this wonder of nature;
We tie it to the top of our car and carry it home 
With expectant smiles of happy times to come.

After a short rest in our peaceful back yard,
The day comes when we bring it into the house.
Without any struggle it stands and soon holds strands
 of twinkling lights, making it glow and sparkle.

Friends join us in decorating, 
We are surrounded by boxes of treasures, 
we remember each ornament and relive 
the moment it was created, or given to us by a loved one.

“This is the first ornament we bought after we were married,
The girls painted these when they were, oh, maybe 6 and 8 years old,
And these with roses on them are the last gift from Dad, before we lost him.
Our son loved the Lionking, so we got him this ornament.”

“I made these when I was going through my wood working phase,
And this is from a very dear friend.
My sister found this cat ornament, knowing I like cats,
And here is this year’s find I bought at the Christmas place.”

Now it’s time for a break, coffee and cookies.
But soon we look upon the masterpiece 
we created with satisfaction.
“Oh, it’ so beautiful!” my heart sings.

This tree would win no price at a contest,
It has no color theme, only love and joy.
It carries the precious memories of times gone by,
Of a loving family and lots of good friends.

I believe the tree likes it .
It stretches with all the glitter and smiles proudly.
I wake up to it’s wonderful pine scent,  
Thinking:” It’s Christmas time!
I love it”

Details | Free verse | |

The Ole Japanese Maple Across the Street

I see it every day
Several times it seems
We have a mutual understanding as I peer out my window and it looks back at me
I will admire its beauty
And it helps me keep time
I will observe its changes
And It will be my weather vane

Sometimes as I gaze out the window it’s gently swaying to the left
A soft gentle breeze is blowing indicating I might need my umbrella that day
Other times it is completely still and the leaves are all curled up
I sense a cool front is approaching and I better bundle up
Today as I gaze upon it I see a spectrum of fiery foliage
I grab my camera and snap a few shots to show my deepest appreciation
Oh this tree delights me! 
It’s connected with my everyday life
I feel like walking across the street and getting a shower of its spectacular red!
Thank you, Lord for this monstrous beauty! 
I celebrate your goodness as I peer upon it each and every day!

Gwendolen Rix

Details | Free verse | |



This wild forest path happening
So clearly now remains in mind,
Of the many recalled visions
Those many visions front and hind

Before the dark, dense, distant woods - 
And towering so over all -
This superannuated pine,
Last survivor an ancient line,
Of some behemoth, sturdy strain,
So obscure in mythic annals
To having survived without name

Its divided trunk wore the slash
Of Eden’s earth-born lightning flash.
The ground surround yellowed and bare
Sunken by undulant root-flare,
Orbiting crown set in blue sky,
From breathless height, black to the eye.

Quite alone the tree and myself
Nor mole, woodchuck, lingering elf.
From fancy’s overwhelming reach
I swear the tree endowed with speech.
I could but stand still, listening

It’s oft told the charm of silence,
The far and near, perfect alliance,
Thoughts gathering to focal point,
A primal realization,
Once-in-a-lifetime sensation.
Shiver! Swallow, grasp, hold on tight
Truth comes forth, Celestial light!
Spoke that gargantuan old pine,
“Long before Adam was life mine.
Why? - without question by our kind.
Enough that we were given birth
That HE saw fit to favor Earth.

But, with man, the question arose
Why? – always answered, no one knows
Is Earth the way to Paradise?
We have heard that eternal shout –
‘Tell us, Lord, what it’s all about.
Oh, why all this struggle and strife?’
“And HE said,”  ‘it’s all about life.’

Details | Free verse | |

Neem Tree!!!

O! My Tree!
The tree around I played
With leaves very pointed
Being bitter. others hate
Necessity brings nearer
Mosquitoes are prevented
Skin diseases are demolished
Germs run away with  pace
And I feel missing when away
It is the tree I love
Where love expressed Dove
Monkeys jump, pigeons rest
Cows eat, churn and rest
All enjoy shadow and taste
Fully inside the heart
I have a corner 
Very special for it.

                            Vrushani Thaker

Details | Free verse | |

Dalliance With The Winter Birch

            Dalliance With The Winter Birch

Crystal glances at the brilliant blue 
Marching up there with blinding sun soaked sky
Clouds stream by 
They come apart in seams of wonder  
As the day begins to shine
Work waits there on the farm
A dalliance with winter wind and trees begin
White limbs swing limp, spring back again on birches
Firm roots, frozen earth, hold the hard wood down
I climb the highest branches there  
At 8:00 am farm chores start once again
They can wait for just a while longer
While all of nature sinks into the skin
As I figure out how to return
Somehow I got lost above the trees
Tangled in the maze of branches
Caught, never found, while climbing birches 
Never quite figured out
Which way was up or down 

Details | Free verse | |

The Tree

                     The Tree

Tree came about before me as I grew in and with it
Squirrels had to go so I kicked them from their hole
They left their nesting which became my twigs for resting 
I grew in and with the tree, in that hole provided me
And slept while tree kept growing
In that tree that comforted me through adolescence
With no education or reference
 I could not say with certainty
Was it oak or birch or maple?
As I grew older I climbed to the very top
It had green pointy things that smelled of pine
How I knew, I could not tell you, I simply surmised such things 
I grew in and with the tree that knew me well
Sun filled it with photosynthesis to let it breath
I did not become the tree
The tree did not become me
I simply grew with it and under branches
In that hole carved out of wood I took my chances
With tender leaves or pine needles if you please
And took a solid look on my existence  
Through that hole reality provided me
Pine needles fragrance fills the air
With a little touch of rain, we drank it in together
I grew in and with it, that is, my tree and me

Details | Free verse | |


Are we awake or are we still sleeping?
Blind to the hurt, and deaf to the weeping.
Ashamed of religion and supportive of the new,
Aware of the lies and hidden from what’s true. 

Worship the evil and turn away the pure,
Developing disease with an unknown cure.
Starving the poor and overfeeding the wealthy.
Killing the sick and drugging the healthy. 

Going to war for some kind of power,
Building tall structures over all types of flower.
Cutting the trees and polluting the air,
All out of greed, with no sort of care. 

Turning us against our own, 
And help from up above.
Making us beings of hate,
Instead of ones of love. 

Demonizing the mystic,
Criticizing the wise.
Making our own family members,
Into people that we despise.

Awaken to the torment, 
Be aware of all the pain. 
Those who are misleading,
And claiming that we are insane.

Details | Free verse | |

On Open Field

               On Open Field

Giant oak consumes the landscape girth
Tears come down, gain momentum, form as rain
Sun beams and wind twist it into bands that land
Strike each leaf and branch with spring like action 
Between each drop of water and speck of light
There is a story to be told
Grass abounds out there about the tree
Expands for miles to horizons deep in green
Drinks in the sun beams, wind and rain
Nourished and serine
Sings underneath the giant tree
On open field

Details | Free verse | |

Life's Wholeness

Life and a living being
can never be separated
See one and you see
the other
Destroy one and you destroy 
the other
Pluck a flower from a tree
and dissect it 
to understand it
You no longer have that flower
as it existed
on the tree
You may have an understanding
of the relationship
between the components
of a dead flower
but you will have forever lost 
the totality of the experience
of the LIVING flower
To see the flower in 
its completeness
and understand a reality 
that can only be experienced
but can never be put into words
for the whole is more than
the sum of its parts

Details | Free verse | |


  -Dharga Nagar Safa

All plants also tree,

Unfolding their hands like a V,

Praying for going green-

What a beautiful seen?

Details | Free verse | |

the apple tree greed

the apple tree greed 
the apple tree greed 

he has an apple a green apple 
he is the only person in this room 
with a green apple 
suppose suppose NOW 
he has MORE of those at home 
WHY he has a GREEN APPLE tree 
In his backyard no WAIT 
He has a vineyard behind his chapeau 
And he makes green apple wine 
And he sells it to the BOONES FARM people 
And they make BOONES FARM green apple wine 
And the whole city is soon sick 
The children ralf and barf and ralf again 
There is no more end to the men 
Drinking all the green apple wine 
To make this ONE person rich 
He never offered me any of his wine 
Eyes never drink of alcoholic beverage 
Eye have juices and tea and a soda please 
I'm just full of good intentions 
Picking green apples in my mind and eating way too many 
Having a green apple with mye lunch of poetical decay 
WAIT he left and YES he took the green apple core with him 
Not leaving me a bite not wanting me to taste the pleasure 
of his mite. Why eye understand him greedy is his name 
the green apple hoarder has so many apples now his wine cellar is so full and 
his larders aer so rich he does save the stems and seeds to plant again in 
ground so rich and he chews on this green apple while he watches MTV in 
selfish hedonistacal revenge while eye have no green apple stuck between my 
teeth OH bliss oh strang decay my teeth at least aer happier today he took the 
core away he left me all alone im appleless today im happier to say no song is 
being sung of little apples of the green variety been hung oh see the tree how big 
its grown the apples have been lost too long and they fall in misery from 
branches of decay to rot to rot to rot upon the vineyard floor there is no apple wine 
no more the green variety is gone they drink it only read and red is the color of the 
wine in cups so full of color there in plates so heaped of agony with applesauces 
vailiantly piled higher then the sky. 

Details | Free verse | |

Winter Winds

Winter winds blow all around. 
I’m astonished by the sounds of Jingle Bells and reindeer stomps. 
All of this should never stop. 
Snow lies on the ground, if only that weren't too profound. 
Time only leads to decay, but not on Christmas, not today. 
You should see the angels pray. 
Toy trains, and rag dolls are the things kids used to want. 
But time has changed, yes so have children… 
Santa seems as if a villain. 
So much fighting, so much crying, it sounds as if the kids are dying. 
“I want money, I want fame, and these toys are just so lame.” 
But that’s the product we provided. 
Second chances are no more, Santa’s plot we wait for. 
He’s sick of this, he doesn't care, it’s as if he’s not wanted here. 
He gets ready to take it all back…. 
There’s still one toy left in his sack, it’s for a little girl, half a world away. 
Now how could he have missed this, on the perfect Christmas day? 
He turns around, not time for war. 
This toy, the girl is waiting for… It’s not a toy like you’d expect. 
She didn't ask for electronics, or stupid games such as Sonic. 
She just wanted one small thing… 
She’s waiting for something EXTRA special this gloomy day. 
In a bed she sits and stares, at the window near a chair. 
She’s so weak, and all alone. 
She doesn't even have a real home, not where there are bright lights anyways. 
They've decorated a weeping willow, the only tree around the “home”. 
So she has lights to see. 
It’s Christmas after all, but there’s no way to calm the raging sea. 
She’s dying, it won’t take much longer, and she doesn't care about the tree. 
She needs a new heart extra bad. 
So, Santa’s bringing her the one thing, that will stop her parents from being sad. 
He rushes to the hospital in his golden sleigh, and climbs right down the vent, 
He’s saving Christmas today. 
Santa rushes in just in time, finds a doctor, the girl is dying. 
It’s not what he usually does, but he stays and watches as they save her life. 
He waits for her to wake up. 
“Santa, you saved my life, oh thank you so much! I needed my heart to be touched.” 
He just smiles, and kisses her hand. He’s so glad he didn't destroy the land. 
Christmas is still a special day. 
There’s no more sorrow, no, not today. Santa smiles though some are still ungrateful. 
There’s that one child, standing in the snow, her life can now be started in the evening glow. That’s life for the grateful, loving, caring, and the thankful. Most of the time Santa just gives toys. For all the good girls and boys. But not today, and not tomorrow, once a year he gets rid of sorrow. So sleep tight and say your prayers, Christmas time is but once a year.

Details | Free verse | |

Just Blowing in the Wind

Just Blowing In The Wind

I am the last Oak leaf left near the top of this mighty Oak tree 
wondering what is to become of me
thousands of Oak leafs were here just a few days ago
now they are all gone
the night air begins to chill as the days get shorter
the beautiful emerald green color I once was
is now a scarlet red-- is this the color of death
Oak leafs by the thousands lay upon the cold hard ground
who once were friends of mine
and the mighty Oak tree is now bare except for me
the cold and chilly wind blows gently through the empty lonely branches
causing me to flutter and shutter
but I hold on even tighter for dear life clinging to my branch
as the wind calls out my name 
from so high atop this mighty Oak tree
I wonder is this what it’s all about
is this the end of my brief life       just one season 
laying down there with all the other scarlet red Oak leafs looking up at me
I wonder what my life’s accomplishments were I scream and shout 
but no one can hear my cries of pain was it all in vain
did I accomplish anything of worth while I was here
did I do what I was born to do
before my life is through
now I’m just blowing in the wind my friend
just blowing in the wind

Dennis Davis

Details | Free verse | |

Heaven Scent

Lavender allure
Spring's roadside dressing
     refreshing the senses
          We feast our eyes
               and breathe deep

Enchanting temptress
     signals rebirth and renewal
          stirring our hearts
               with anticipation

Heart-shaped leaves
     with universal appeal
          speak of love and care

Such comeliness is
     a gift from heaven
          and worthy of praise

A definite lavender-pink in hue
     so why, in our 
          wanting way, do we
               call it a Red Bud Tree?


Details | Free verse | |

One Tree Hill

He Created the Tree
He molded and built
A small lonely hill,
That He knew would be
Called Calvary.

Then He made the seed,
That would grow to be thorns
That would make
His Son bleed.

Tell me
How can you be so numb
When you've been so well fed
Bless me, bless me is
All we ever hear

One Tree Hill
When will the seed
Grow into a tree in you

Details | Free verse | |

Change of clothes

Long twisted  stretching tendrils
Dressed in green summer clothes
Skin hard wrinkled and furrowed
Turn to rustic burnished copper and golds
Shiver in Autumn
As the cold wind blows.

Peter Dome.copyright.2014.

Details | Free verse | |

Dressed for death act two -Great Physician's durable clothing

Because sin death entered in is for sure a marry heart does good like a cure  											Good news for men like a new leaf fallen from a tree now a dying spirit a fading leaf  										the Glorious cross a promise kept from the time Eve wept 													He is our life from Adam to the One healing enter in the only begotten Son 												dwelling in the Light only He is He was and is to come 														The only wise true Living God conquerer of all evil the Amen													It is done "The first and the last, which was dead, and is alive"													Heals by believing He forgiveth all your sins heals all you diseases                                                                                                                                                                  		His grace keeps us from plagues those written and those not 													 as far as east to west the Lamb of God the Lamb without spot													has taking away our sins with the shedding of His blood														Writes His laws on upon our hearts our sins remembering not													The sins of all He bore upon the tree causing are sins to return unto thee                                									 Rose again on third day the Justified doing away with our body of sin and death											all points as we yet He is without sin pleading to the sinners enter in												the Day spring on High the True Prophet Priest and King														Here is wisdom Honor Jesus Lord of lords King of kings the Lord our God King 											Garments of praise alpha and omega the first the Last the same													Granting repentance forgiveness of your sins in Your name 													The Lord Jesus The name above all names our all in all                                                                                                                                                                               		our sins separated us from Him that giveth Life to all   														Now by faith we have been grafted in Jesus the tree of life          												           	Us with His own self  He adorned clothing us in righteousness and salvation 												Lambs wife married none other than Jesus our great physician

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A Tree

I am a tree
Sitting contently
Atop this hill
Flourishing beautifully
In the springtime
Turning my foliage
Lush and green
Until Autumn 
When my leaves drift away
Surviving the cold winter
Bare and fragile
And the cycle continues
Looking out over the world
Yet childish
Yet weak
I am strong
I am a tree

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We are in a continuous state of becoming with our environment I am becoming that tree just as that tree is becoming me It took in the carbon dioxide that I exhaled which became part of it and through photosynthesis converted it to oxygen which I inhaled becoming part of me I am the tree and the tree is me I am becoming that insect, that bird, that animal and other persons I breathe in the air they gave up Air that was part of them is now part of me just as the air I exhaled is now part of them Earth is becoming me and I am becoming earth It becomes me through the food I eat which comes from the earth directly or indirectly and I become the earth through matter that leaves my body waste and otherwise which returns to the earth to become the earth

Details | Free verse | |


The Walks

I walk
And the trees talk
I watch
    for signs of wonder
As white winged creatures
     flutter by.
The king of the great expanse
     so giving of its radiance.
Yonder are the wispy clouds, inconspicuous as mare's tails.
As beyond the azure sky,
      a perfect calmness.
If I could reach (you) heavenward,
                                      a respite and a bliss!
Joyous wind is singing to me now,
Paint me then the smile of Mona Lisa
    that never fades.
Brush strokes by the Fates.
Soles of my feet
     against the heaven's footstool -- 
Oh, the many walks.
What a joy the bosom finds!
            my heart is swelling.
As I take these outside wonders 
                                              divinely inspiring.


Details | Free verse | |


You were under the dirt so deep that you didn't even know that you were there.

After many days and nights of rain you still did not appear.

One morning the sun came and warmed you and you began to sprout.

Seven mornings later you poked our needles out.

Then came a new world of warmth and light, and a nightly darkness.

In this nightly darkness were stars of bright whites shooting across the sky of night.

For spring has come and you have sprung into the world of growth.

Once a seed and now a tree, life leaves more for the eye to see.

I know for i am the pollen in which you once knew, before you were a seed.

And the air in which we once breathed we now breath again.

For now you are the tree in which beams above all in the land, I am the flower who admires 
all those above.

You my tree are above the rest.

Above the land is a sky of blues and grey, the greens are the fields in which we stand.

For all that is below and up above are all connected with love.

A ground so deep and a sky so high nothing is for sure but i and my.

copyright@3-2010 MarymMcshirley/kilker

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Loves Philosophy

Where would we be without love?
Lost sheep of Babylon, not God’s doves,
Loves philosophy is: ‘love, love, love’,
So let’s begin her story,

Her story begins in the womb,
Where love maternal is in bloom,
Then paternal love springs forth,
With eventual dada mama of course,

Her first steps are tentative,
Steady, gradual, pensive,
Love is growing fast,
She waves her tiny hand, makes a fist,


Love is a mine of hearts and minds,
Broken, pumping, dull, awake,
For goodness sake let something shake!
From the tree of love, what does it take?

A fruit to fall upon my lap,
A love ripe to bite after a nap,
Alas alack release some slack,
I do not have the subtle knack,

Does it take so long to find loves grace,
With strawberry hair and a pretty face,
I wonder if there will be a share,
You cherry, me plum to be your care,

When all is said and done,
What is the point in life with no fun!
The harvest of love is worth more than gold,
So the story told should set the mould,

Look for love in the tree,
Where ever the tree may be,
And find a suitable fruit to munch,
And take them out for a hearty lunch,

If all fails and it well might,
Leave it a while with a smile,
Never giving up the fight,
Then when life is less stale, re ignite,

The journey restarted afresh aplomb,
Shields up for the femme bomb,
As for the men they may need fresh words,
To trap and seduce the startled birds,

A look again at the tree of love,
Where it is filled with new blossom,
Don’t act the goat or be a possum,
The news of love is close at hand,

A gent and a lady, years apart,
See eye to eye and have fresh heart,
Her mind is nimble his is on fire,
Where Lord to take this desire,

I wonder if it is going anywhere,
Do you care, do you think I care?
I adore you from the start,
Your nimble mind my aching heart,

To find her, unwrap her serenade her,
Hear her, feel her, getting close to her,
All in all falling about,
I could shout, is she the one!

Details | Free verse | |

Forest Tree Tag

She wings just under the canopy
of this dense old forest
as we play tag under the trees,
speeding down a deer trail
I draw near and leap
  into a gray oak trunk
and spring to the closest branch,
muscles corded 
    I bound
from tree limb to tree limb
ever drawing closer
to her voluptuous rear.
When I draw close enough
I jump over her 
   and smack her behind
with the back of my hand,
          you’re it.

As I drop
  I change my direction,
catch a tree trunk
 with my forelimbs
and propel myself to the left.
My paws meet the earth
and I’m moving,
    sliding amongst the stalks.
Feeling the ever presence
of the shade of my heart
I dive under a dead tree
   laying across the path
and run off to the right,
just missing her touch.
Keeping within inches of each base
I zigzag through the woods,
she swooping left and right
  barely above the ground,
almost within reach.
I try to dig my claws in
and make a sharp turn
    to the left
but alas the soil is too loose
and I feel her claws
   graze my back,
            I’m it.

Details | Free verse | |


They’ve hauled me into the parlour,
secure in terracotta packed with soil,
to sit awhile before my ritual humiliation.
Soon I will be baubled,
showy, gaudy, tinselled –
the court jester who will keep
them smiling through their feast –
and burdened with things that dangle,
like a tart’s cheap earrings,
and those little wooden reindeer,
hand-painted, made in Korea.

But for now they seem
to contemplate my noble nakedness,
their eyes detained by something
unplumbed in their reality;
and they are silenced, for just an instant,
by a notion, perhaps, of distant green,
a timeless forest that impinges
on the periphery of their awareness,
seeing me as I would remain,
could they but permit
such an insult to their tradition.

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Tree made of every fruit

In a place that's misty and gray
Beneath a shadow wolf and it's prey
Into the haze, winds tickle tree tops
A tree made of every fruit
Grows real plump,
Then stops!
To bask in it's accomplishments
It stood proud among the breeze
It fed winded birds tired from flight
from across the  fruit tree's grape juice seas
Soon children came, to feast on this masterpiece
The tree trembled as they munched and crunched 
and ate that tree, bunch by bunch
The more the children picked from the branches of this tree
The more fruit would blend and mend, and become apart of the grape juice sea.
Until one day all that stood. was a stump of bark and a lump of wood
Lay Beside a mystic grape juice sea
Where a tree made of every fruit used to be

Details | Free verse | |

To Be a Tree

Were I to decide today, I might choose the simplest way….
Yet, I cannot but think that I’d regret losing the experiences I would get.
Water, bends and flows and trickles through every crevice it can find….
Taking the path of least resistance to wind its’ way towards it’s’ goal.
Yes, water is flexible, as we should sometimes be….
But water evaporates.
Now a tree, yes, a tree….
A tree stands tall, reaching out as far as its’ limbs allow, so it can caress the heavens. 
A tree forces its’ roots deep, often ripping through concrete to remain firmly planted….
A tree is stable, strong, almost eternal…
It only fades when it must make room for another or when felled by an axe.
Were I to decide today, I might choose the water’s way….
But a tree’s life, I bet, would make me that much happier yet. 

Details | Free verse | |

How Does a Lamp Post Feel

It’s cold outside tonight.

Just rounding seven o’clock.

My friends have left and I’m stuck in a what seems to be eternal incandescence that encompasses my willowy form.

I am so tall, it is as if the tree tops speak to me.

Their leaves tapping my shoulders looking for questions carried by the wind.

And I?

I stay structured, securing the perimeter with my watchful eye.

Sometimes this job gets tedious.

As time flies by like the geese in the winter I sulk.

But monotony can be beautiful, I’ve seen things that would tear these sleeping houses to shreads.

And things so treasured and special I question my indecision.

First kisses.
Dead pets.

You can call me a hero for lending my light.

A suburban legend brought to life.

And when light is dependable once again, and it’s time for me to take a rest.

I’ll stay planted in the ground like an artificial oak and soak in vitamin D.

I will dim my being and dream of the beach.

I’ll dream of providing hope for lost sailors.

And see more of the midnight eve.

Details | Free verse | |

The Redwood Forest

                                      The Redwood Forest

Standing tall, tops in the mist,
Red giants from another time.
Remembering the birth of Christ,
Looking now at modern Man.

The forest floor in muted silence,
Filtered light finds the rhododendron.
God’s original cathedral soars,
A place to find peace and beauty.

Walk awhile with past history,
Place your hand upon the bark.
Look up, almost glimpsing infinity,
Look down, see mans tracks upon the earth.

Forests once tracking vast vistas,
Now a rare and silent treasure.
Man’s greed at last held back.
My home, my heart, my hope.

This is repost..thought it would work for the " In the Woods" contest.

Details | Free verse | |

I talk to the trees

When spaces are filled with loneliness,
I realise,
I am not alone. 

I talk to the Trees,
They live. 

I listen to the birds,
They sing.

They're alive,
All of them.

People walk by,
They fail to see us. 

I can't make myself move,
I don't want to.

I talk to the Trees,
They feel,
Just like me.

Details | Free verse | |

The Snowy Life of Two Loving Ghosts

Taking suggestions especially on this poem. This is a first draft and I like it, but I don't have time to edit at the moment. Thank you!

The two ghosts dance through the barren forrest,
leaving footsteps to be pondered about
by the man who owns the land in the morning.
Howls and Screams and Laughter and Love
fill the dewy dark sky.
The two, lovers in death,
never knowing of the truth,
that their lives were taken
Snowfalls before,
being murdered in these woods,
their throat slits and their bodies mutilated,
No one knew who they were.

But here they are again,
running through the spindly trees,
taking in the scenes of their
eternal winter.
He takes her hand,
leading her to an opening in the trees,
a perfect circle, no light insight
but the stars above,
so beautiful,
so prominent.
Theres not a place in this town
better than this
to see the future amongst the stars.

They came here that day,
tent in one hand,
telescope in the other;
their thoughts in the air.
They were seventeen,
Seniors awaiting the approval
of a diploma,
They should be studying,
mid-terms next week.
They took a fatal break,
spent the night together,
only belonging to each other.

The ghosts;
who's sight doesn't recognize
the spot of their demise. 
They sit on top of a large smooth stone,
Left their by the world in it's hurry.
They gaze upon the stars,
waiting for the world to reveal itself.
The screams and wails and love still permeate the air.

They fell asleep in each others arms,
and so they never heard the footsteps,
the drunken laughs of men full of sin,
ready for some action.
They found the tent,
they killed the innocent souls,
but instead of leaving they bodies,
they left the ghosts,
taking the bodies and
depositing them in the freezing lake.
They then sat upon the rock,
laughing about the deed done,
passing out in the deadfall of snow.

The transparent lovers jump to the snow,
throwing themselves down to sleep the night away.
They cuddle,
protecting each other from the snow,
the danger,
the truth.
The smile,
and with one last scream,
they kiss,
merging with the snow,
Part of the world,
and this spot full of false truths.

No longer do lively bodies wander about the woods,
and the owner hardly visits.
But a few times each winter,
when the snow has fallen so deep,
You can hear the screams,
the howls, 
the laughter
and the love
of two ghosts
dancing in the snow.

Details | Free verse | |

Angels Atop the Apple Blossom Trees

Angels flying around the the tops of apple blossom trees
Trying to soak up the aroma
Dancing on air currents to get a quick sniff in the breeze
All the while playing their harps and fiddles

How majestic is their flying?
How majestic is their twirling?

For each and every angel that flies above the orchard
Becomes intoxicated with the scent of heaven
There is no greater scent on all the earth 
That represents the earth’s gardens like the apple blossom tree
So the next time you are out and about walking 
And you see the apple blossoms in fullest bloom
Just close your eyes and you’ll be dreaming that a dozen angels are staring at 
you.... because most likely... THEY ARE!

Gwendolen Rix

Details | Free verse | |

Close-Minded Instead

I suppose this is what
Happens when I show you
What has gone through my
Heart and has touched my soul.

A story that you should 
Already know.
One of names and games
Played at the expense
Of a child who had 
The misfortune 
Of being born
At the wrong time and date.

He speaks of a branch
Grown on the wrong tree,
And if nothing else,
I thought,
This would be the story
That would speak to you,
For you are the branch.

But right now,
I feel as if it’s me.

Because when he is 
And the screen is blank
All you can say is 
And that you are confused.
But how,
I don’t know.

Have you been called 
Too many 4 letter words
Starting with the 3rd character
By a daughter who should already
Know better?

When you turned off 
Your heart
To the feelings she caused
Did you close off
Your mind as well?

This is the point 
Where I realize
It’s not you that I
Am mad or disappointed 
In, but

For thinking that 
You could see why
This is important 
To me.

Maybe I’m the
Close-minded one

Details | Free verse | |

The Priest and The Man

Ashes from ashes
The eternal tree arises. 
Roots deeply rooted,
In the dust of dusts.
In which our sins gather.

“O Priest, o priest what do these words in my visions mean” the man says.
The priest replies “My son, my son I do not know,
For I too have these visions, but that tree you see is etched on my chest”.

Details | Free verse | |


It is snowing tonight!
How beautiful it is!
Everything is so lovely!
The first snow of the year!

I was all set for bed
when I decided 
to put out the light and
to look out the window

The fresh snow on the ground
and on the housetops
unspoiled by man or beast
appears so peaceful and serene

I see a pine tree
and the upper portion
of its branches and needles
are gently covered with snow

I have seen that same tree
many times before
but never has it looked 
as lovely as it looks tonight

Details | Free verse | |

Tree of Life

I see a tree outside my patio door; it’s tall and gifted with so much life.
It’s bark flows in connecting patterns, they come together then flow apart.
It echoes the patterns of relationships that so often come and then they go.
Its precious leaves are born each year, and will fall with the winter cold.

Each cycle leaves a foundation needed for the next year’s growth.
And a ring in this foundation, speaks volumes of the history before.
The branches lead us off to paths; we never thought we would go.
The leaves lend comfort in our lives, and mute the harshness thrown.

It knows how to bend and move and flow with what life will to it send.
Yet, generosity is the gift it gives to those that, upon it constantly depend.
It will shelter, feed, and protect all creatures; both great and small till its end.
Then it will return to the soil, to replenish and nourish the next to grow, again.

Still, why does the tree stretch out its arms as it grows toward the light?
It’s reaching toward its maker, to acknowledge the one who gives it life.
Trees are the living proof given to us, about what we should already know.
Yes, God gave us all these trees to remind us, of how each life should grow.

Trees know his light gifts all we need, to live contently within his arms.
They replenish the air for our every breath and even give us our homes.
The tree should be our Coat of Arms for all it’s given to us, and more…
This gift God has given to us: is symbolized as the beautiful Tree of Life.

Details | Free verse | |

I Remember.

    The antique paint chipped thermometer would not give up it's cache of mercury from it's 
frosted bulb even in the blinding brightness of the sun on the iced landscape.
    I remember peering  through ice daggers and translucent unicorn crystal horns hanging 
from the eaves outside the picture window of my Vermont country home which commanded 
a view of the valley below. My breath formed a vapor mist on the glass as I strained to look 
down to the blurred pine tree reflections imbedded in the black ice driveway. The long drive 
coarsed an impassable mirrored arc down to the ice covered dirt road at it's end.
    That narrow road dropped rapidly from our drive and snaked into the valley. It was lined 
on one side with numerous trees, but on this day they were transformed into a sunny iced 
extravagansa of porcelain barked Maple trunks supporting heavily drooped crystaline mazes 
of branches and sparkling blown glass twigs.
    I remember walking through my breath and the only sound was the crunching of my 
boots through the frozen crust surface of the polished platinum field. The two houses in the 
valley below were releasing thin straight lines of undisturbed smoke which were calmly 
claimed by the azure skies.
    I remember stopping to watch with bated breath the spectacle of the sunshine crashing 
into thousands of icy tinkling twigs; swirling colors flashing around in an island of tall white 
Birch ice sculptures directly in front of me. The streaked paper bark was frozen into razor 
feathers and rustic belle petals protruding from glassed tiffany trunks.   CRACK!!! The sound 
of an overloaded tree giving way under the weight of it's new load of glitter. Then I 
remember ...consciously breathing again through the frozen vapor ice collected on my 
mustache and beard, thinking a thanksgiving prayer, while I slowly crunched back to my 
home with an arm load of firewood.

inspired by Laura McKenzie's
Winter Adornement contest.

Details | Free verse | |


In one corner of my room,
That is shaped like a tomb,
There is a window, where I sit
And see my world through it.

I see the rising sun,
I see the melting dew,
I see the blooming flowers,
I see the sky’s changing hues.

Through it
I embrace the fading sun,
I live the joyous rains,
I feel the flowery fragrance,
I walk those lonely ways.

Through it
I float with the summer clouds,
I breathe the winter breeze,
I touch the autumn leaves,
I celebrate the cuckoo’s springtime songs.

Through the window,
I see my world.
Neither the autumn leaves,
Nor the springtime songs;
Neither the winter sunshine,
Nor the summer rains;
Would have been great
Had it not been through my window rails.

Through my window,
I see the world.
In the window, lies the entire bliss;
Beyond the window is only an illusion.

Suyash Saxena

Details | Free verse | |



This wild forest path happening
So clearly now remains in mind,
Of the many recalled visions
Those many visions front and hind

Before the dark, dense, distant woods - 
And towering so over all -
This superannuated pine,
Last survivor an ancient line,
Of some behemoth, sturdy strain,
So obscure in mythic annals
To having survived without name

Its divided trunk wore the slash
Of Eden’s earth-born lightning flash.
The ground surround yellowed and bare
Sunken by undulant root-flare,
Orbiting crown set in blue sky,
From breathless height, black to the eye.

Quite alone the tree and myself
Nor mole, woodchuck, lingering elf.
From fancy’s overwhelming reach
I swear the tree endowed with speech.
I could but stand still, listening

It’s oft told the charm of silence,
The far and near, perfect alliance,
Thoughts gathering to focal point,
A primal realization,
Once-in-a-lifetime sensation.
Shiver! Swallow, grasp, hold on tight
Truth comes forth, Celestial light!
Spoke that gargantuan old pine,
“Long before Adam was life mine.
Why? - without question by our kind.
Enough that we were given birth
That HE saw fit to favor Earth.

But, with man, the question arose
Why? – always answered, no one knows
Is Earth the way to Paradise?
We have heard that eternal shout –
‘Tell us, Lord, what it’s all about.
Oh, why all this struggle and strife?’
“And HE said,”  ‘it’s all about life.’

Details | Free verse | |

Weeping Willow Tree

Stopped by my old home town

a while back,

when I spotted an old

friend of mine, just

a lonely weeping willow tree.

Remembering days as a young

child, when I would climb this

old tree and resting under it

during long hot summer days.

The house where we once lived,

was nowhere to be seen.

Only a large hole in the ground,

where it once stood.

Watching this tree from my bedroom

each night before falling into a deep sleep,

while taking in the cool summer air, was such

a thrill for me.

Got into my car and drove away,

feeling a little better, but yet so sad,

this old weeping willow tree brought back a lot of

good memories, as I drove out of town and back home,

where I belonged.

Written 5-12-11

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Tree Houses and Trigger Fingers

I wish I could take this noose from my tongue.
It doesn’t seem to work against the honesty of silver anyway. 
I wish I could hang it over the neck of my thoughts and pull it tighter every time they try to choke me with guilt or pessimism.

Well versed in the words it takes to build things up. My lips and sounds paint pictures and build grand cities where the price would be too high but, people would still pay to live there.

Better versed am I in the words that call for demolition. I need not even speak them before, I set all the beauty ablaze and cast those cities to rubble. All the people paying too much can flee or stay but, as the founder and captain I am charged with going down with my ship.

If I could just speak a balance.
Articulate a safe place. 
A perfectly leveled tree house with room for one or two.

Lately though, my words and thoughts shake and stutter. 
Trip over themselves like my hands reaching for a pen or a pill bottle.
At least that bottle is half way full, I guess.

In love with the thought of the very idea.
I see now, with no lenses, softening my harsh reality.
I must once more, try to focus on myself. 
Love myself and prove it. 
Reach for the things I need with conviction and not the unsure hands of a child, I've been sporting so well.

I can find a meadow.
No path required.
I will not rest there, I promise but, I may take in the scenery along the way. 
I need no hand to hold my own in respective appreciation.
I can see the wonder painted even brighter when it burns with a pang of solidarity.

I will work my words,
My tired feet,
My heavy lungs,
My heart with dented armor.
I will train my hands steady.

And this time when I put something in my sights, I won’t have to hesitate before I pull the trigger, painting the walls and ground with my red victory. 

A flower may yet hold promise,
Even in the wrong climate but first, the seed must be planted. Will it bloom?
We are getting ahead of ourselves.

Clear the board and start again.

Details | Free verse | |


Happiness lies in the simple things -

hearing birdsong when one awakens 
in the early morning
observing the morning sun
creating diamonds from dewdrops
seeing a baby's smiling face
watching a spider spin its web
feeling the bark of an old faithful tree
watching baby animals at play
being dazzled by brilliant sunshine
streaming from a clear blue and white sky

Details | Free verse | |

Trees of righteousness

What is wrong with our ailing society-
We chase after dreams like a proverbial butterfly 
That does not know how to fly straight
Only to be caught in a net as lunch for a spider

Is it only through heartache we become wiser
Or bitter
Surely our left hand should know what our right hand does?

Lessons learned well help us discern responsible action
Like -don’t build on a cliff if it is made of sandstone
Or near where water may rise due to flood
Or don’t live where there is strife unless you feel
You are called and have the ability to turn things around
And don’t do to others that you wouldn’t want done to you

From the year dot when mankind left paradise we have warred
And have killed, raped and destroyed that which is good
Even a flood of enormous proportions didn’t change or cleanse 
or take away our guilt -for the problem stems from within 
of each and everyone -for you see-The problem is- SIN.

Our human tree is the problem we are corrupt as can be
So another tree had to come one that could give life
One that is honest and good to the core 
One that could overcome all that the fruit of Sin could implore
Even death- A tree that can give - a life that is new

He is called the Branch and when we are grafted into this holy tree
His nature, if we stay grafted into Him -will eventually cause us to 
Bear excellent fruit
Yes there will be seasons that come and go like any fruit bearing tree
But as it matures and is regularly pruned it will give of its abundance 
And when the change fully comes, in heaven we’ll be called,
Trees of righteousness - The planting of THE LORD. 

©? Brenda V Northeast         3 Jan. 2012

Details | Free verse | |

My Tree

The tree stands tall at the edge of the park
No one knows what she has seen

A thousand memories form the crinkles in her bark
So many different directions her arms have tried to reach

So long she has been there
We forget to look up and see
The beauty of the sun between her fingers
And the drops of rain on her blanket of leaves

If we climbed up high, we would sit amongst the clouds
Her branches are a living ladder to our loved ones
Who dance in the stars above us

The souls of our lost friends sing to the music of the wind 
When her leaves rustle and whisper

She is a friendly place, my happy place
A wise woman who will listen to my worries,
When I lean my back against her trunk and sigh, we are one. 

Details | Free verse | |

Reoccurring Dream

I have a reoccurring dream. 
In this dream I am in a wooden shack, dusted and old. 
I breathe suddenly and deeply regaining consciousness 
As though I was in deep thought, yet nothing fills my mind. 
I sit up from a creaky old stool to realize my surroundings. 
I have been to this place before; my footsteps mark the dirty floor, imprinted in the dust. My attention is drawn to a dirty window as the sound of thunder claps around me. 
The sky is vibrant and tormented; 
Swirls of white wrestle the grey clouds as lightening runs across the sky in a beautiful Array colors. Then the smell of fresh rain fills my senses. 
I leave the shack to enter a barren plain, infinite on all horizons 
With the exception of a massive black tree; naked and alone. 
I gaze at the sky once more and a cool breeze flows through, filling me completely. 
The tree now too begins to breathe deeply the cool winds, large and intensely. 
As I walk towards the tree it begins rain. 
The rain drops touch me but I am not wet. 
The dry dirt drinks the rain as quickly as it falls muddying the soil I am walking on, Though my feet are not muddy. My feet imprint the dirt but the mud does not stay, 
Only the wetness of the soil, leaving my feet damp. 
I run towards the tree that now bears a single fruit. 
I reach for it but sobbingly the tree begs me not to eat its only child. 
Disheartened I sit on the ground digging my hands into the dry soil. 
Underneath it is dark fertile earth, but like the mud it does not dirty my hands; 
It gently falls to the ground. In the holes I have dug water begins to pool from the rain, Clear and pure. I gaze into the pools but see no reflection, only the sky above. 
I put my face in these pools and breathe; no water fills my lungs, 
Though water fills my ears. I remove my head from the water and hear no sound; 
My eyes are closed and all is silent. Slowly the water drains and sound returns, 
Thoughts rush my mind and words encourage my tongue; I am awake.

Details | Free verse | |


Under the tree she sobs in fright,
Her tears cascading down her cheeks,
the feeling of hate in her soul,
fear that was brought-with by her father.

The man she trusted ,she called her father,
believed that she was safe without fright,
gave him love obedience and mostly her soul,
is the man who brought tears down her cheeks.

He came home with usual pinch on the cheeks,
took her by the arm without conscience in his soul,
with a nut brained devour and it was her father,
reaped her off her clothes and sent her into fright.

Now she sits under the tree with great fright,
hands around her legs recollecting ordeals by her father, 
fear,hate,anger as she wipes tears of her cheeks,
should she elope or stay here with a broken soul.

Details | Free verse | |

My Mothers Doll

Weeping on the window sill.
A long pass love to give.
A doll that with stand time.
Like wear and tear on its strings inside.
The sand that flows in an hour glass.
Is a way to find a love that pass.
My mother holds it once again.
A cool person who love to give.
She gives it to my brothers daughter.
With it sitting on a spindle it can spin.
To thread it back into its former self.
It begins a new love with in.

Details | Free verse | |

Broken Sleep

I slept through gales of depression
Exhausted and lost to the morn
Out the window I saw devastation
In your face I witnessed scorn

Mighty trees that topple with winds
Irreconcilable differences arise from within

I sat on the couch feeling vacant
Unhappy, regardless of storms
I wish I could go back to sleep now
And undream the darkness I’ve formed

Details | Free verse | |

Silhouettes of Trees

Pink sky dark
trees rising three silhouetting against sky  pink 

three trees rising
paper cut-outs 
black paper cut-outs on
pink pages

wood fence running 
darker down to 

breathing all in breathing 
in smoky 
air breathing self 
into air

tree silhouettes breathing 


cat gliding 

ner darker 
like breath along 

Details | Free verse | |

Bejewelled Tree

I gazed out of my favorite window,
The beautiful tree touched by the rain.

The branches shone like jewels,
Diamonds of nature.

The daylight shinning,
Through the pristine droplets of water.

There were a few trees like this,
Simply welcoming spring.

The rain had endured,
Cloudy and foreboding.

The tree like  a ray of sunlight,
Cheering the day.

Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz

Details | Free verse | |


GRAINS OF SALT Events and things have meanings Meanings to everyone Within us is beyond what is apparent Sometimes vague and in unqualified form But are often called sentiments. Which of these are within The ourselves historicity and yearnings Our thoughts, hopes and vision They clarify the entanglements of thoughts and feelings. Like the blade of grass that merge and glistened down. In these meanings Purest forms, events and things Communicate what are in our being At every temporal door and dam Communicating and knockin’. There’s no denying These are grains of salt Symbolizes our innocence and sometimes ignorance But allow us to go mountain top To see the full view of the city as well as the urban. In plainer terms We while saying That a tree is a mere physical tree standing But it may mean Symbolizing evolution. Or the spiritual unfolding Of man to another person If ever my poem’s Composition glisten in afterglow experiencing Born of being from moments of aloneness.

Details | Free verse | |

We Never Leave

Lying down beneath a tree, I listen
The wind draws whispers from rustling leaves
Stories stir in the ravines of the bark
They make me smile mostly, but sometimes I cry

The wind draws whispers from rustling leaves
They are left there by birds and moss and rain in roots
They make me smile mostly, but I cry
When I hear of worms wriggling to sidewalk suicide

Left there by birds and moss and rain in roots
Is the promise of life and an energy that connects us
When I hear of worms wriggling to sidewalk suicide
I see that life, all life, is wondrous and strange

The promise of life and an energy that connects us
Makes me look at my arms, imagine them covered in bark
I see that life is wondrous and strange
That I am part if it all, the bald eagles and the mud

I look at my arms, imagine them covered in bark
My feet become roots and my fingers become leaves
I am part of it all, the bald eagles and the mud
They were here long before me, yet they speak in my voice

My feet become roots and my fingers become leaves
Stories stir in the ravines of my bark
They were there long before me, yet they’re told in my voice
Now you lie beneath me, so listen

Details | Free verse | |

The Woman at the Well

God whispered into my ear one night
Woman thou art made clean
A new lease of life I have given thee
Like a tree that gives out new leaves
So shall your life be
And the fragrance of this life shall spread far and wide
To the dead and the lost and those around
And this tree that is planted by the water side
Forever shall it draw eternal life
And its leaves will never ever wither away
For the Angel of the Lord will guard it night and day
Thus the glory of God will shine through you
So that all that is written about you shall come true

Details | Free verse | |

lonely tree

the weary soul slumbers under her branches
while our life flickers under her leaves
wanting the light to shine brighter then the sun
leaving tiny messages on leaves that fall
evergreen , mighty oak , eucalyptus
just to name my few under her wings 
collecting the early morning dew
sweet air i inhale the drought she has been through
withers her limbs though her roots are deep
she thirsts for more  

Details | Free verse | |


Bare, they get slowly clad
In all their green splendour
Lusciously blowing in the summer breeze
'Til Fall arrives and they gradually derobe
Naked in time for Winter

Details | Free verse | |


May i have your undivided wilderness?
Please. Some place where ‘me’ might lose
its self without forgetting what I am.
I know it exists because you exist,
& all those unnameable things that hide
in silence between the heart beats of trees.
If I were to offer a prayer or a stone
it would not include matches or road maps -
but some ancient chanting heard from afar
when the mountains hold their breath,
and romance runs free of camps & campfires.
Here, I’m taking off my shoes, my clothes.
I’m throwing away the book. There are
some places you can only enter unarmed.
Your undivided wilderness is one of them.
Everyone needs a place to grow.

Details | Free verse | |

I Want to be Pinocchio

I wanna be a tree
A big ‘ol block of wood
	Just swayin’ in the breeze
Suckin’ in the bad air and
Letting out the good
With squirrels climbing all over
My branches tickling me
                     Birds nesting 
                     Bugs munching
                     Flowers blooming
                     Fruits budding
A man snaps a limb that’s in
	His face
		That’s how I feel pain
I wanna be a tree
I know why leaves leave
	Just Nature callin’
Squirrels never turn their back or
Promise the world
	Or break your heart
A tree never knows
All alone because you’re
	All alone
Wood has knots and it’s ok
But a stomach hurts
Not wood
A tree weathers the storm and love
		Creates one
God seems to leave
Mother Nature alone yet
In the affairs of Man on a daily basis
I wanna be a tree
A big ol’ block of 
While Pinocchio wanted to be a boy
He didn’t know how lucky he was

Details | Free verse | |

Kyle the Child Vagrant

Eldest oak in the grove, let me scramble through your earthly bindings
Allow me to traverse your knotted limbs, until the top is conquered 
No other place is greater than here, so warm amongst these scraggly boughs 
I wish only that my roots were as critical as yours, that I had somewhere to belong.

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas Tree

What is a Christmas Tree?

God's triangular shape,
A tall beautiful tree of green,
Branches layered and deep,
Twinkling lights coloured or white,
A star or angel on the tree top,
Decorations of Santas, angels and bells,
Icicles extending over the branches,
Santa Claus's magic every year,
A beautiful Christmas manager,
The Christmas Tree is complete,
God's blessing to mankind.

Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz

Details | Free verse | |

Timeless Trees

Timeless Being inside of a forest Trees, they’re all around My house is within The confines that bewilder The hide-away Timeless The trees worship The house that they surround Open to life’s air My house sits high Above the caressing fields Timeless The trees evolve Like the highest object Within the forest The trees hide My humble building One that finds the trees Timeless
Russell Sivey

Details | Free verse | |

Leaf Tear And Kiss

            Leaf Tear And Kiss

Atop the oak tree with green leaf on the overlook 
Red sun hung up there with it on the cliff
A valley held out, cupped its hand, waited
On a tiny leaf like tear
It broke off to sojourn down
Lovers pointed up to see the floating green transform
Turn its colors into a kiss
Bright colors released into their souls
Leaf brushed like a feather on their cheeks
A kiss just below the eyes 
Changed before them as it faded
From green to multicolored to brown
Dropped before it landed like a sweet kiss on the mouth
It touched their lips, transformed them on the spot
Kissed them once again just above the earth
As they soured on
Into October bliss

Details | Free verse | |

Summer Here Again

When I hear the tweets of songbirds at dawn
Nesting in the oak tree outside my door
I smile at the sun shining on my face

A red bird scours the brown grass 
Blue birds skeeter on tree branches above 
Squirrels run up treetops scampering nearby

There's more fun in spring than wintertime 
Tree frogs start to sing songs of joy at night 
Fireflies lit the darkness as they mate

When I hear spring back, summer is coming 
Hot beaches call my name to the ocean 
Hot sand between my toes makes me holler

As I run for the shorelines' cool water 
I dance my jig retreating from high waves 
That reached my tighs quickly pulling me in

When I hear tweets of songbirds at dawn 
I warmly smile at yesteryear
Hoping for another day to make fun memories 

By Barbara Washington 3/9/2012©

Details | Free verse | |

Empty Snail Shell

Once I found a snail Slowly moving with its shell Along the shores of Bacsil White sand dunes hills. Then suddenly the snail Went out of its shell hollow To look for a hole But not let it in to huddle. Another big-eyed Protruding four-legged gastropod With cinnamon roll-shell Centipede claws ready to snap it. But one moonlight And a windy night The snail found again a house Behind the bamboos and shady "aludig" trees The snail no more in snail pace Come alive!
Terms: Bacsil - a small barrio in Paoay, Ilocos Norte, Philippines. Aludig tree- a wild shady tree in the forested area in the Philippines. Old folks believe that snakes love this tree for their sap which is converted into a venom. (I just heard this explanation from the old folks who live in that area).

Details | Free verse | |

Up A Poet Tree

Many falls coming swiftly

Branches shooting the breeze

Words blowing in wind

Dropping lines like leaves

© Copyright 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved 

Details | Free verse | |

soldiers of nature

a testimony of time 
staring of into 
the distance 
a storm blowing 
dark clouds 

howling its way 
across the sea 
trees like gladiators 
hanging branches 
bent with age 
faced the wind 
rooted firm
braced for the storm 
twisted with the pain 
of centuries 
protecting us 
from its force 
like wings

 branches blown back 
our first defence 
our shield 
against the elements
rooted firm 
they stand tall 
the cries and moans 
of natures souls 
whistling and moaning 
through their branches 

warning us 
of whats to come 
hundreds of years 
we stood 
in all seasons ,
all weathers 

looking around
 fallen soldiers 
broken trunks 
tore from the ground 
years they held
 their ground
now sitting 
at the fire 
a log in my hand 
only now 
you give me warmth 
soldiers are trees 

around a fire 
we tell our tale 
as firmly we stood 
against the gale 
another day 
another battle

Details | Free verse | |

Hunger And Home For Trees

       Hunger And Home For Trees

Trees hungry for the sun turn towards the fire
Which catches them as they cannot run
And in turn, turns them black
Once they towered towards the sky in green
Fresh air took them there at night serene
Filed them erect like sticks
Squeezed them as they dreamed
Of being piled tooth picks
Ignited by the hungry fire
Trees breathed their last sparks of life
Expired on the spot
Wood that remains in damaged ash
Not fit for homes
Only letting the worms
Within live out their term 

Details | Free verse | |

The Calmative

            The Calmative

In forest, after the soft rain, a blanket of moss holds green
Holds water to balance the day with shade providing sleep
Woodland creatures know the soundless floor keeps secrets
As they step through the wet unfolding silence
Even the blue birds, flap a quiet wing while soaring by
Tranquility has no color, has no smell, or taste
It fills in the deepest well and falls just like a feather
On the forest ground
The calmative of nature forms 
A bubble around a troubled world
A yawn picks up where sleep left off
And when we wake we talk
We only say kind words
And only in a whisper, on a pillow of green moss  
Nothing gained, nothing lost
Then slip back to oblivion 
To the calmative deep in sleep

Details | Free verse | |

tulip tree

the tulip tree tosses petals
to the dying maple tree
tree cutting men and chain saw converse
leaving stumps ...of words
a twitching, gray squirrel cusses....

the tulip tree has lost its mate

Details | Free verse | |

The Trophy Tree

The Trophy Tree

Pinnacle of the pristine forest
Toxic from its blood-stained soil
The trophy tree sits

Barren of foliage
Dark decrepit limbs easily broken by subtle breezes
Amidst wisps of gray fog
The trophy tree waits

Surrounded by a dark ominous wind
Its veins filled with crimson sap from its suffering sorrowful souls
Engorged and contorted with anguish
The trophy tree breathes

Constantly feasting –one victim at a time
Draining energies from Sleepy Hollow’s forest
Starving to fill its empty bowels
The trophy tree consumes

Silent screams echoing within its lair
Innocent peasants' heads stored as trophies
Roots reaching towards hell--

Trophy Case of the Headless Horseman

Collaborated with Gwendolen Rix, and Rachel Bernotaitis

Details | Free verse | |

The Cold Red bud

Sent to his on tree in truth and fabled firewood topped
so if you sow with the liar you will lose your crop
Thoughts of the tree of the forest pensively accursed
a story likened to that is written in true verse
Red bud with pinkish betraying lips
in those same hours like blood drips
for those in the field of iniquity He loved to the end
The purer meets the lips of an unfaithful friend
a hardy stake to fall upon with this kiss not counting the cost
while stealing a kiss this fruitless one to perdition lost
The money will not save within his bag the silver cold
rolling coins bought for a price foretold
so full of darkness to say it was I
It is finished the Fruitful Tree cried
Poisoned by greed and the enemy
growing in the field of blood it is called the Judas tree
- by john beam -The Eastern Redbud known to Cherokees as Da-yi-go-gi or Liar. It is called this because it is the first tree to bloom in the spring often before the last heavy frost. If the farmer planted based on the Liar, the tender crops would be lost." David Cornsilk, Cherokee historian and activist

Details | Free verse | |

Snow Falling on Tree in Winter

The tree never asks why?
"Why does the snow land on my branches?"
It cares little, for it knows it is enough--snow or no snow.
The tree never asks why?
"Why do those birds sit on my branches?"
It cares little, for it knows it is enough--birds or no birds.
The tree never asks why?
"Why does it grow dark day after day?"
It cares little, for it knows it is enough--year after year.
The tree never asks why?
"Why is there a heaven?  Why is there a hell?"
It cares little, for it knows it is enough when at last it's time to depart.

Details | Free verse | |

My Tree

I sit under my tree and wonder.
Sit under my tree and cry.
Sit under my tree and wait for my soul to die.
An acorn falls from my tree and I pick it up.
Its a small acorn not fully grown.
Taken before it's time.
So i gave it a name and sat it down by a dime.
I whispered to it "This could take a while."
But you see as I sat under my tree,
I began to think and wonder, was that acorn a victim of suicide?
Ridiculous I know, but it seemed to cry out to me.
It was sad, it had wanted to grow to be a big giant tree.
I laid back under my own tree and cried.
Maybe just maybe I didnt want to die.

I sit under my tree and wonder.
I sit under my tree and smile.
Oh yes, death could take a while.

Details | Free verse | |

If a tree falls

If a tree falls

If a tree falls
What do you 
The sound
of life
The sound 
of fear

Do you 
not hear
the forrest
the trees

are you 
by the 

Details | Free verse | |

Garden feel

What does a garden feel

A flower feel

A bud feel 

A seed feel

When the beholder 

Goes missing 

who can it complain?

Except the Lord. 

Yet the feeling of 

Loneliness remains

Till the first step sounds

Till the first eyes meet

Till the first breath taken

Till the first smile spread

Till the first joy breaks out

Till the garden echoes with sounds

Details | Free verse | |

Bearing Fruit

Long hopes for my bearers fruited comfort, of new soft sins quarreled.

‘Tis  lost.

The tree grew,

no caretaker to guide it’s way to the sky.

It’s limbs sprawled and gnarled with contempt and confusion.

 One yearns for you’re insight.

Though beyond, the tree will bore it’s supple fruit,

‘Tis  fruit will not be lost.

Caretakers will guide their way.

Details | Free verse | |

Just Moments Til

(Picture Perfect)

Mere minutes until the end
This radiant perfection will not last
Shadows of trees will not cringe
They reach for the oily colour of 
Made by nat'ral green and white-
goldish gleams
Tranquility, what I barely grasp
This scene discarded by urban 
Moments like these, everything stills
Moon's quick to clean Sun's artful 
Silhouettes turuned b'ings now 
To consume skies left blue and black 
'til filled
Abduction by time was rapturous 
Twilight gives wings for euphoria's 
That moment of evening bliss is 
Now Night's inhabitants sing 
reverent song

Details | Free verse | |

Rounding Out Reality

            Rounding Out Reality

Rounding out reality
Dreams fall down on columned nights
Walls fade in golden mist
Swirl into the clarity of day
A kiss is tangible in the distance
Flavored vapors and water come
From the last midnight rain engagement
Came and went away with sleep, pure with sentiment
Sweet sense and fragrances of forest clearing
Corridors of trees lead on the wind
Solid as concrete love, white, with water droplets
Paths circle on themselves to find a clearing in the forest
There is nothing more fragile than my love
Holding on to her is like holding onto time
Sleep rounds out the walls of reality
A golden light on forest green
One soft spot of ground to lay a blanket down
And with my love round out reality

Details | Free verse | |



I have long since lost Hope,
because my paths are so endlessly long and aimless,
as if sculpted out of my restless spirit
in the long nights of reverie.
You know, Lord... I used to have my Hope.
It was so nice to stand next to the Christmas tree
with my mother,
and look at its proud top,
where our silver star shone,
my favorite Hope. 
To me, a child who never decorated his own tree,
it was the biggest Christmas tree in the world,
and the brightest star beyond the heavenly dome.
Each night before Christmas we would return to the same place
with the same desire and faith,
until our terrible companions, the long, cold nights
have invoked death
and stolen my mother.
I am motionlessly standing and staring into this dark, cold night,
like an avenger yearning for revenge,
and a thin woman in rags is passing me by,
whispering warm words into a child's frozen ear.
The child is looking up with the same gaze
like I did when my mother used to show me the silver star,
whispering into my frozen ear
that someday I shall touch that silver star too,
silvering all the orphanages of this dark world.
Her warm words are still crossing my mind:
„Son, always stand on your toes and look up...
and you shall touch your star!“
My eyes have long since stopped sparkling
and they don't look up.
They used to be the big, bright eyes of a child,
that shone in the dark,
like two young embers that were just set afire,
but now... oh, now my eyes are but burnt out embers
in the squeezing fist of the cold world.

You know, Lord, how much I wanted to stand on my toes
and look up,
but life always threw me back to my knees.
I admit that I haven't been standing on my toes for a long time,
but I am not kneeling, either,
I am only looking down
into the dark reflections of people's characters,
and my Hope is once again so far away,
as if it's afraid of my faithful squire,
which is standing at the bottom of the silky net,
not like a flym
but like a master of many a fly big and small,
because Death has that justified purpose
to come for its flies regardless of their size.
I am not looking at death like a fugitive,
but a penitent man,
who wants just another chance.
How strange it is, Lord,
that even a man abandoned by Hope wants his chance.
Yes, Lord, I admit
that I would like to stand on my toes once more,
below the biggest Christmas tree in the world,
and touch our silver star.
 ©Walter William Safar


Details | Free verse | |

Seed Of Love

Tiny seeds germinate
Fresh roots sprout
New life is born!
The weeds come for free
As every beautiful rose
Has it's thorns!
Growing tall, against all odds
Growing towards the light
Laying our roots deep
Staying strong, yet flexible
We are a tree of life
Or the seed in the ground
We are 'one' of the same!

Details | Free verse | |

Amazing lump! I fell in love with tree stump

Love stories are many written and directed
Usually all with ending life or with survive
It is my pleasure to extend the predefined
Love is expansible crossing all stories of time.

It is that moment when I myself realised
Sitting on the tree stump to create a delight
Considered an obstacle yet smiles alive
Trying to breathe out again a new life
Clearly describes its age nothing to hide
Showered so much love with fruits fine
Now being injured for building heights
Valued so less as no more like a gold mine.

Amazing Lump! I fell in love with a tree stump 
Gives immense love while it expects none
Sacrifices whole life from the day sown till born 
Even after being cut cares for human’s plight.

Heart of an innocent child sharing soul smile
Companion of all my good and bad times
My tears reflected in its caring decaying eyes
Love seamless yet strange in material kinds
Takes me to the bottom of blame game field 
Where I learn for pleasure to dedicatedly write
O’ Stump for me thy are my garden’s pride

Quitting my loneliness lighting treasured times
Wish I could perform just one wonder same type
Thanks for being true without committing relation
Place to rest tired people being a soul of divine!

Details | Free verse | |


Flowers climb the branches
exhibit their full blossom
flowers visit drawing rooms 
They visit temples 
and then they vanish.
defying fixed shapes
rivers hasten to no destination.
carrying countless goals
roads get lost in a maze. 

I stand
holding the selfsame earth.

Many couples came under my shade
and rose to ecstatic heights
of imagination,
tired porters 
put down their baskets
by my side 
and slept out dreams 
like lives of longings.
children who hopped branches,
left as they grew 
carrying mementos 
to remind childhood.

Wild winds’ whirling clusters
whispered a while
perching on my leaves
and raced towards horizons
chasing sky,
chicks hatched on my branches
grew wings and flew out
carrying tiny lives,
travelers who arrived 
passed out from exhaustion
but they came round under my shade
and carried themselves away.

Many a time 
slogging me through the day
the sun sought to chase me away
from my standing position,
rain battered me into water 
threatening to wash me down,
storm nearly blew me by force 
by melting me into air 
somewhere like itself.

Rays carrying rainbows
could not stay with me
sounds of Naumati band and
monotonous conch-shell drones
rose in sky by turns
and faded somewhere.

Traveler living in a distance
four days from here 
before leaving home 
thinks of relaxing under my shade
and catching up with his journey,
birds herald the spring 
resolved to hatch on my branches,
roads part to meet here
in case they got lost,
dusts and shriveled leaves
take a breather behind my leaves
escaping chasing hurricane.

soil a muddy flow hit by rain
turns to its essence holding my roots.
lightning dancing with winking eyes
continued to tempt 
thunderbolts played threat games 
clouds acted as though
they were splashing water 
to wake me up.

Never did I feel like
leaving this place
and walk.

		Translated from Nepali by Prof. Abhi Subedi

Details | Free verse | |



While the wind walks up and down the village,
all the time at the same speed,
I looked at that fir,
bent down to the ground by the wind.
It must be very, very old,
but it's still so beautiful and
And the wind, the prince of Freedom,
looked at the wild rose
and started to caress her red face,
asking her
to agree
that he might propose to her
to get engaged.
The rose suspiciously listened to it
bending its head a little from time
                                            to time.
Now the wind bends the fir tree to the ground again,
so it might say a few words on his behalf,
and the fir tree started fondling the face of that village beauty
with a motherly tenderness,
showering drops of a bygone rain all around her,
- glistening on her noble face like pearly dew -
so that the rose might have its grace as a dowry,
and the rose majestically nodded to the
prince of Freedom,
like a princess of love,
agreeing to become the princess of Freedom.
And I thought:
“If men could only bend to the ground so easily,
like a fir tree,
there would be more love left for all of us.”

© 2010 Walter William Safar

Details | Free verse | |

Ethiopian Sun

            Ethiopian Sun

My first born son, Bon, died today in my arms
Thin arms, swollen stomach, flies touching
The cold glazed eyes of his tiny body
My tears can’t save him
Quench what was thirst
Or wash away the sins of living
He will never know to read or write
He did not know the name of his own land
And killer Ethiopian sun
Which he just died under
Or his sister, sweet Biny
Who lost her life at the hands
Of the bandit war lords Marxist Berg
I laid her ravaged body down under sun and dying
Endangered Hagenia Abyssinica tree  
With no hope in Ethiopia  
Soon, all would be gone

9/23/14 Free Verse Poem- Poetry Contest

Details | Free verse | |

The Most Beautiful

The Most Beautiful Towering redwoods with their Heads in the clouds stand as soldiers Of nature’s elite, outranking every tree Silent giants, Eyes of Heaven and cohesive Foundational Roots Redwoods have been trees of liberty in the Grand design of life for sixty-five million years Ancient in creation and a mentor to the Human race on strength and survival; if one Falls they re-root into a brother-hood If we learn our lessons by the call of nature The flutter of butterfly wings, warm honey pots Crash of the waves, colors in a sunset and the Deity of the oldest living Redwood Trees We would never destroy another thing For Gain Carole Cookie Arnold Debbie Guzzi Contest

Details | Free verse | |

Dead Winter

They wanna say that I feel dead inside;
I’m no more dead than that tree in the yard.
The one with no color, no sense of direction
The one left abandoned, the one by the road.
The one that kept growing, though nobody liked it –
The one that kept living, through all of the torture.
As weird as it sounds, I kind of admire it, that tree.
Every year, it falls down.
Nature kicks it, beats it, leaves it left for dead.
Every year its covered by the ashes of the past year,
And like the phoenix, rises every year for another beating.

I know I said I was like the tree, but I’m not.
That tree is strong, noble even.
Standing tall in the realm of undead, it’s a symbol,
A beacon that there is something beyond the darkness,
Beyond the barren, beyond the white…

Details | Free verse | |


Why does it scare you 
to hold my hand?
Not for some type of underlying
But instead to keep me grounded
Securely for survival

"This isn't love" 
the wind shakes me so wildly 
Resting my hand in yours
Allowing me to catch my breath

I am but a tiny sapling;
that does not make me weak
Rather, to raise my stability
You have an obligation to help me stand
Among all the others 

Just allow me to entwine my
fingers with yours 
Please, I do not want to topple
over and die
I need my roots

This is all, for my need to survive

Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Tree

Was a tree created for Christmas no, I think not A tree was created to stand tall shading light of day  from  creatures resting in and beneath her hidden from sun's scorching rays The sun burns hot in fall, turning green her leaves auburn, orange, and red, they fall  blanketing the brown carpet of grass below  she has shut down her food factory for the winter Flush green colors of chllorophyll fades as hours of light shortens and cold lengthens it days a tree whether summer, fall, winter, or spring was not created to be chopped down in autumn A tree decorated just to die for Christmas an autumn tree, grinded, disperse for life of new trees, stand tall shading light of day from creatures resting in, and  beneath her,  hidden from sun's scorching rays, makes sense

Details | Free verse | |

humour me

not exactly the girl interrupted
not exactly the girl interrupted
said the boy with a promise to repeat
he who laughs last laughs best
laughs best he says
im not sure the joke is on me

Something funny he asks
something funny?
the sense of humour surrounding me
surrounds me

the joke i have become
the joke i have become
you never know what retard is packing a nun

something funny he asks
something funny?
the sense of hilarity surrounding the joke i am

how many shocked sherrifs
shocked sherrifs
does it take to get me
out of this?
wanna take a crack at the answer

The psycho in the bath
humour me
humour me
the sense of humour im among
isn't funny
isn't funny

not exactly the girl interrupted
the girl interrupted he says
with a promise to repeat
never know what retard is packing a nun
packing a nun

if your gonna lay the rail he says
lay the rail
better be ready to ride the train
he who laughs last laughs best he says
laughs best
i'm not sure this joke is on me

In the sexy trees
the sexy trees
i stare into like clouds
i see the tree spirits making love
i see the tree spirits shaking the tree
Practicing to look into the stars
into the stars he keeps rearranging
rearranging to tell me something
tell me something
i didn't before see

the joke that surrounds me
the laughter of everyone
everyone laughing at me
humour me says the psycho in the bath
the psycho in the bath says 
humour me

the sexy trees your fifth element
a fifth element
telling me something about the stars
the stars he keeps rearranging
rearranging to tell me something
he who laughs last laughs best he says
laughs best
with a promise to repeat
i don't think this joke is on me

Details | Free verse | |

Spines Like Trees: The Meaning of Up

I'm beginning to learn that sometimes 
The strongest things in life are quiet...
My boyfriend is both-

He has a spine like an oak tree; 
He knows how to sway with the wind,
Yet never lets himself be bent nor broken-
He always knows which way is up.

I, on the other hand, have a spine 
That tends to bend- more like a 
Young sapling under pressure than 
anything Else; sometimes I just
Don't know which way is up-
When the hurricane gales come, 
Relentless as the Jews marching 
To make fall the walls of Jericho;-
When the rain pounds like feet;-
When the full weight of the wind
Presses down on my back like
It's curious to see how much 
Pressure it'll take before 
My vertebre disalign and I 
Splinter apart in a shriek of
Cracking wood like the wall that
Finally came down...
I don't know how to figure out
Which direction is up anymore...

Sometimes, I am nothing more
Than a seedling still learning 
How to find sunlight, or
At least something that shines
Bright enough to feel like hope-
My spine is nothing more than
A thin tendril of green trying
To learn what upright means...

On these days, my boyfriend is the 
Pillar that shields me from the wind;
He doesn't ask what happened,
Just holds me close-
His hands are scarred like branches
That have seen too many storms,
But they are gentle enough 
To feel like home; warm enough 
To feel like sun-warmed earth, 
So in his hands I am comfortable 
Enough to be a seedling still 
Learning which direction is up...

He teaches me that if I reach for God,
I will always know how to grow straight...
I'll know which way to reach because
It'll feel like reaching for warmth.

Details | Free verse | |

The Willow Tree

I am
The willow tree
I am joy and I am sorrow
I am unmoving but free
I am what everyone is
But what few people can be

I have lived through many days and many years
And I have gained much wisdom and peace just by listening
I have witnessed much laughter and heartbreak
In the flat, flowering field that I stand in
I have had many children swing and tug on my vines
And have felt love and joy as if they were mine

But just because I am wise and old
Does not mean I am not strong
For many years I have withstood raging rains and wicked winds
Like a concrete wall
With my love of life to help me along

So when my time comes to an end
When my curtain is starting to close
I will be tired and spent
But peaceful and content
With the great knowledge that:

I was
The willow tree
I was joy and I was sorrow
I was unmoving but free
I was what everyone is
But what few people can be
I was alive.

Details | Free verse | |

solution tree

Problems of life are many
New and fresh shoot out daily
Delightfully swings like leaves
Hanging from the boughs of trees

You may go jumping from branch to branch
And with your passionate hand touch them each
But the solutions are far from your reach
Like the tips of roots they run away deep

You dig deep in the hope of to get relief
But you ended up compounding your grief
As no solutions you find but new problems to crop up
Give up digging , instead eat the fruits of love 
Planting a tree upon the surface 
And in no time see the things pain to vanish .

Details | Free verse | |


Venus peaks from beneath her veil.
Saturn tips his wings.
The moon is a full orchestra
resounding in my belly.

The trees are singing to me,
lullabies to sleep by,
drawing, through their roots,
music from the other side of the world,
their leaves playing notes in the stars.

Details | Free verse | |

Green Leaves

Green The color of the leaves The tree so proud To have its glorious leaves To shine so bright Within the sunlight It radiates an aura Of purity These green leaves Of the humble tree Wafting so high Within the air Of the hillside Trees beating off the rocks The rolling stones That invades The hills Where the trees And the leaves Live and survive Wondrously A true beauty Are the green leaves Greenery That will live On the lovely trees
Russell Sivey

Details | Free verse | |

Shadow World

          Shadow World 

Wondering off the world are shadows
Trees tried to stay behind
To settle with the sun of red, to make it right and just
Beyond its light
Something wrong had happened to its core
The star focused on objects in reflection
Had nothing left to give to life but death
Objected to moving things in general
With indifference there
Exploded with anticipation of the night
Could not contain dark places looking for escape
Colors could hardly stick to trees
Stationary in their place as was their nature
Seemingly anesthetized to numbness by the sudden blast
Anathematized or cursed  
Trees were the last to stand
They held themselves in dirt
And could not reason with the star
Executed on the spot along with every form of life
For failure to do their job
No one or thing had a say in this grave matter 
All things destroyed in one quick flash of light
To become a splinter in the eye of sun as it went nova 
And when the planet settled into total darkness
To become an empty orb
When the sun lost power
To become the dark
Sunk in on itself and vanished
No one said a prayer
For no one was there to care
Or left alive in Shadow world
A burnt out cinder

Details | Free verse | |

The Tree of Dreams

The wise man of the city
Said to me,
“Go to the north hill,
and there is a tree,
were the faithful flee
from the sins of the city.
Always will the stars be bright
and the view a beautiful sight,
lonely on a winter night.
Be careful not to bring sin
to the tree of dreams
or a nightmare will tear at the seams.
So flee my child from the city of sins,
To the tree of dreams
on this beautiful night.
so sleep my child
sleep tight
and flee to the tree of dreams."

Details | Free verse | |

Childhood Dreams

Holly...bright lights...smell of christmas pie-
Christmas tree and presents!
I must get to sleep...he will be here soon-
Silver bells, cotton tails cows over the moon.
Wait! That's not Santa..he has a big red sleigh!
Fastest reindeer in town, Rudolph leads the way.

Here come the carolers.."Oh joy to the world"-
Merry Christmas to every one, boy and girl!
I must leave his cookies, by the tree on a plate-
He'll be here soon to see me I simply can't wait!
Silver bells, cotton tails cows over the moon-
I must get to sleep...he will be here soon.!!

Details | Free verse | |


The rose leaned forward
and said to the trees,
something carried away by the wind,
not for human ears.

Branches bore fierce
against the wind,
their heads bowed,
shoulders squared,
the leaves of their hair flattened,
the grass turned into a rippling sea.

And for a moment,
whilst Brahms and Mozart played,
the rose forgot
had unceremoniously cut it off at the root,
stuck it in a vase
and put it in the window.

Details | Free verse | |

The Fly

In the early morning
I skirred among the treetops,
a million sparks of water.
My wings lisped in the cool air.
I slid near the canyons of
green and black;
and yellows alarmed me.
Grateful for 
my two big eyes that
made a gift of distance.

Details | Free verse | |

Elastic Families

In this wonky day and time,
this favored temperate clime
dares suggest wisdom's course
espouse prevalent societal force.*

Family tree boundaries,
stretched by current modes
like an old elastic band,
accept new branches
hung precariously 
on the old sturdy trunk.

Old Limbs are newly bushed
with leaves bearing prefixes
with measuring sounds;
third, adopted, step, half -
or followed by modifiers; 
in-law, live-in, significant other.

Partners and lovers 
get tied on with slippery ribbons,
names entered in a ledger, 
but not with permanent ink.

Disjointed families, add-ons, 
and second family births 
leave our children wondering
to whom they belong.

*Adulterated quote from “A Traitor to Memory”
by Susan Elizabeth George, Published in 2001,
Bantam Books, a Div. of Random House, Inc.
            Top of Page 87 

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Extension of its Own Self

The ground is covered with leaves A grouping of orange all around A reddish purple exists Where green used to be There lies the shadow From a tree that stands In formation With more of these leaves Some a lavender color The tree stands firm A solid trunk it has This skeleton of branches And of a firm base Is reflected directly Onto the ground Lending a mirror view With the leaves on the ground Looking just like the leaves That are on the tree itself Beauty upon beauty It looks like an extension Of its own self These two are united Through the ground
Russell Sivey

Details | Free verse | |

Cigarette Bud

Curl me up a tree
Wrap me into a bundle
Light me up like a candle
The warmth of my joy
Kills the carvings you fear
Yes, it bothers me
How you take pleasure in my pain

We are paperless in this age
The pen is made useless on a page
This knowledge falls on deafness
Enlightenment ends in blindness
Scientists, powerless
Fear big business

Imagine the textbooks in the toilets
Education flushed down the drain
The empty classrooms
The air thick with ignorance
The stench of a mental disease
Written on the chalkboard, “REcyKiLL”

FAX me to your heart’s content
The pulp, I hope he gets a paper cut
I wept until my roots were uprooted
My leafless branches dried up and twisted
My timber became rooftops
At least cultivate me an artificial forest
A sort of vegetation urbanisation

Then my offspring would grow
To see the light of day
Taller than the black clouds of smoke
I couldn’t clear

Details | Free verse | |

written by trees

You were looking for me
And I was also looking for me
We were facing ourselves 

When a spark in
the mirror woke 
To the sound of your breath
Standing so near to me
How you walked up and engaged my ear
broke into my liquid silver space field

meeting you
so radiant and clear
full of fireflies,
sparks and songs bursting sound barriers

can you hear them, breathing in my ear?

they leap from you
lighting up the darkness
where ever you go

striking white sparks
on trails of smiles that
Satellite around 

Groups of kisses hammer at
the  passing of space time   

to your limbs knocking akimbo 
as they reach up reach out 
etching the story into the stars

Details | Free verse | |


When I was a child
I thought time travelled with 
the ticking clock 

Grandpa always said 
His childhood days were better than mine
To travel into those days 
I reversed the hour hand
as many times 
as would be sixty years back 

To this day, folks 
I still feel his rough palms
Planted onto my cheeks 
and his course voice pinching my ears
for breaking down his precious  clock 

Details | Free verse | |

Free Reign

Wild grains of ice

blow, swirl,


form flurried frosty fantastic clouds,

evaporating as they float up

to form a soft steel sky,

bleak backdrop behind

swaying naked trees conducting



winter's full-blowing opera.


Some approach

briefly wave


bouncing isolated moments,

white lace water,

incarnate grace of space.


Bands and billows

tornado up

sweep down blanket roofs


and past,

greet this eternally dramatic day,

then move on

continuing adventive play,

compassioning breath and blood beat.

Details | Free verse | |

To a Cedar

I had nearly forgotten who I was
Until I sensed your easy strength
   and heard the timelessness 
   of your years;
Until I caught the sparkle
   of your lacy light
   and showered
   in your fragrance
Until I recognized your verdancy
   jumping the primal circuit.

Details | Free verse | |



Multi-fingered trees drowned in the mist
Mist like the cold hand of death coming to Ramses
Last night’s mist  -  purifying spirit
Enveloping all in the frost

Like a well-tended graveyard
Dead, silent, nothing moves
The ugly old dead trees  - and
The lovely young live trees
Are levelled, enveloped,
Masked in a white shroud
Each tree  -  asleep, dead
Recreated in white
Born again of water and Holy Spirit
Ready to enter the kingdom of heaven.
All souls look alike
All the trees look alike
New souls reborn sinless
Souls of trees waiting

These ghost trees are not real trees
Their previous life forgotten, bees and  pollen
All sensual feeling numbed
Their tree souls purified
Pure innocence  -  sin free
Prepared for tree heaven
Cold joy of heaven

Ah….the forgotten delights
Of being a larch or elder or oak.
The warmly imperfect summer life  

Details | Free verse | |

Pillar of Power

towering above the leaf-strewn lawn
is a pillar of power,
its many tiers executing the daily task
of lighting your obstruction box.

the birds seem to enjoy the view,
wouldn't you agree?
but I cannot help but wonder if they
would be happier, healthier
in their tree castles,
where they can look through the
branches to the soil they are 
firmly rooted to -
the most primitive connection of elements,

the bird -
the tree -
the earth.

Details | Free verse | |

Family Tree Warning

When searching among the branches 
of your family tree 
Be prepared for the scrapes and thorns 
you'll get along the way 
Your sure to find some funny stories 
mixed in with all the nuts 
But lies and secrets will come seeping 
up as sap from the roots 
Don't take everything your told 
by others at face value 
They have their own private splinters 
buried deep in the shadows 
Delve deep into the inner branches 
and poke among the leaves 
For bitter sweet is the fruit 
of the family tree 

Details | Free verse | |

seed of love

My little jewel of honour
Wrapped in the soil of my heart
Sown by my beloved
Infinitesimal it was
With time grown a tree
The plump fruit ripened
But now it seems a dream
A leaf drops after another
Soon the branches empty
My beloved nourishing halted
The farther she goes
The drier the tree
And to nought my little seed of honour

Details | Free verse | |

Trees I Have Known

I loved those trees, 
limbs draped in plump wild grapes, 
bursting with flavor on my tongue, 
while juice stained my fingers.
Tall cottonwoods shadowed 
the creek where we splashed—Sis,
brother, and I—and a giant sycamore 
shaded Granddad's spring. We slaked
our thirst from the granite dipper 
hung on a nail he'd hammered
into its trunk at kid level.

We watched water belch like corn, 
rattling a popper lid, and ripple 
over rocks in the streambed, 
where minnows and crawfish 
hid from prying fingers.

Hawk-eyed, we scouted 
gnarled branches in the orchard 
for ripening fruit, luscious and tangy, 
spurting juice to drip off elbows.

Hazelnut bushes flourished
by the back fence; black walnut trees 
shaded Grandmother's back porch. 
Our uncles helped burst crack-jaw shells 
with hand-held rocks on the stone slabs 
stretching toward the gate.

I do not envy the children 
whose play-field offers brick and concrete,
severe and naked, whose only fruit
blows down alleys and into streets, 
as the refuse of city dwelling.

Details | Free verse | |

Reach for the Skies.

Here I trudge through sludge and grime
A lowly being of  present time
Inhaling  air putrid and  vile
Watching as trees climb to awesome heights 
To breathe fresh air high up in the skies.

Sturdy tree trunks stand aloft 
Roots buried deep in murky soil
Algae clinging in gruesome slime
 vines twisted tightly to survive
 winging their way  to distant heights

Even birds  soar to  awesome heights
to strafe the calm and cloudless skies
Or settle on treetops in sunset bright
Singing their songs of sheer delight
While I simmer below wishing I could fly

Were I a tree to climb to heights
 I’d breathe  the air that blows on high
Or scale a vine then twist and slide
And touch all creatures  passing by
Perhaps one day I too will reach the sky
I’ll extend my arms across trees tops
Breathe fresh air then stretch and smile
Never again will you hear me cry
 Nor listen to my constant whine.
  As my eyes reflect the purest of light.

Details | Free verse | |

Arbor vitae

I think I should have
Been born a tree -
- Maybe a silvered birch
With feather veined
Leaves -
- I could greet 
My tall reflections
That swim saintly inside
The nearby streams -
- Or a lofty, leafy oak,
Crying slow orange tears in autumn
And being a shoulder
For solemn lonely birds
To cry on - 
- It has been said
That I always had my head in the clouds.

Details | Free verse | |

Unfinished History

We spoke the history of Flankers under the roof
Of your old school
And I, O I went interviewing for the proof
I have that little book lost somewhere
But in my heart I read it still
The little brown church upon the hill
The iron caterpillars clawing into stone
The thrill of the poor man to capture and own
An heritage where ancestors blood was spilled.

King, the first boy born there lost his life fishing
Beside his father in the airport bog, we 
Wept for them three weeks and more, singing
And making light to ease the heavy hearts of loss
Brownie, the first man to settle after years there
On the estate smelling the wine of sugar
Roasting in the sun. I saw your son
In New York and was not intimidate of his skills
In maths again, he was just a another statistics
Like myself, and our hearts were cistern broken
Before our birth.

The first girl born there is now an officer of the law
O could we run those days again
Crazy in the childhood of our dream
The choir of birds in fruiting trees
The endless complain of working bees ...
O their nectar made all sorrows sweet
The evening in the sand bed
Pretending we were Quarrie or Bolt today
And the stars older than us
Longing for us to return their dust.

I wrote the history of that place ... the Easter Rebellion
Kenyatta, Desmond, Cyril, Jiggs, Dragon
And King Baz ... O that was a brilliant son. Corbett
Only walk and complain about dead politics now
But there was another time, we were young
And the sun was our liquid gold to dream
They came with the constabularies and machines
That tore rocks and buildings up
But could not spill us from our cup
We drank it all.

Today across the globe we are gone
None return to die
Where they began
And so lonely now the forest obsolete
The dried out swamp
The tourist that will not see again the lamp
Of Bredda, Nunsa and I
Catching crabs ... I left a tree my kite to fly
An old tree that entangled me ...
The history that began me before I finished it.

Details | Free verse | |

under his sacred tree

Under his sacred tree he sat
With tears in his eyes 
Tired of fleeing away
Scared of being a part 
of this cruelty

Under his sacred tree he sat
Asking god to take him away
To forgive his sins 
To spare his soul 

Under his sacred tree he sat 
Looking around him
 with despair
Feeling the darkness in his blood reign 

Under his sacred tree he sat 
With his eyes closed
Thinking of his life 
as a huge mistake
Wondering why god
is permitting this world 
to torment his weary heart 
Wondering when will his painful tears dry
Wondering when will this vain world cease

Then in front of him 
he saw the bright face 
That relieved his pain
and moderated his agony

with a tear crawling on his face,
with smile drawn on his  face 
he died 

under his sacred tree
he died …

Details | Free verse | |

My Precious Squirrel: Memory of a Tree

I was born at the edge of a field 
that captured the shadows at sunset
I was an adolescent, 
when I watched men plant odd, angular rocks
where a  strange, hollow tree sprouted,
maturing unnaturally fast.

I was disturbed to see the creature’s marrow shape, 
no rings, only a labyrinth 
of vertical and horizontal lines

An alien cousin perhaps…

It was some time after the strange tree formed bark
that I saw it glow for the first time…
So many eerie eyes glaring like creatures of the dark
I was chilled to my roots

In summer people came,
squirrels with two legs, they busily made a nest there 
and the tree howled and laughed by day, 
and watched with bright, vigilant eyes at night

The smallest squirrel often wandered away 
and came into the grove of my ancestors
and climbed into my arms;
she seemed so strong
but when she nestled into a crook
and watched the clouds roll over hilltops
seemed so small and fragile,
the weight of her thoughts heavier
than the weight of her body

She came when the sun scoured the field
and before the rain
alone, unafraid
her face always a storm of contemplation.

Sometimes, she would talk to me,
tracing my wrinkles,
asking questions and seeming as if she understood 
the whispered replies from my leaves
and the creaky laughter of my branches.

She made me special. 
She could have sought 
the cradling branches any other,
but she chose me, claimed me as her secret.

Her chubby fingers and tiny feet
tickled my existence 
until she no longer climbed.

Instead, she warmed my roots 
As she stared into the hills,
a magic branch pressed the contours of the valley
onto sheaves of white leaves
replacing her voice.

I imagined her rings forming, 
perfect, wise circles, though no wrinkles etched her bark
she was changing so fast…

And then she came no more, 
none of the squirrels came, 
the strange tree stood abandoned
even when I was dressed in respectable summer green
and I thought, perhaps 
she had found more interesting landscapes.

But one day, she returned, 
the same and yet very different
and brought with her two small squirrels,
each resembling her

They brought laughter into the grove,
climbing branches and squealing in delight
and my old friend once again settled at my roots
with her magic stick and white leaves,
writing and drawing me into her memories

just as my precious squirrel
was already ingrained in the very rings
of my heart.

Details | Free verse | |


There's a shooting downtown.  A tree frog
Chirps.  Two young people discover love.  A tree frog
Chirps.  The Chicago Cubs beat the Toronto
Bluejays.  A tree frog chirps.  A bimbo
On the Internet becomes a celebrity.  A
Treefrog chirps.  Life goes on.  Day by day,
Week by week, year by year.  And a tree frog chirps.

Mandell Smock

Details | Free verse | |

Summer Memories

Restless winds blow tree leaves 
Strewing them on the ground with wisps 
The sweltering heat crawls all over
Like a plague of locusts in September

In the splash of wave and warmth of breeze
Squirrels scamper across from tree to tree 
Climbing up and down like chimpanzees
For nuts to scrounge and corn cob kernels 

Mockingbirds and sparrows flit about
While buttercups exude their wildest hues
The wind caresses in undulating grace
The hushing leaves of piñon pine trees

The cry of chirping thrushes
Resonate the song of nature's bliss
As gleaming spires of lemongrass
Proclaim it's genealogic class

Tide of memories sweep the heart
Of love and lovers fallen apart
As summer memories held so dear
Overhelm a soul inured to tears

Details | Free verse | |

Thousands of Trees - Chapter 1 - The Ability to Fly

Hold your breath
Not a touch of death
Go above the atmosphere…
Embrace the rainclouds that sponge in fear
Tell them that there’s a hopeful Utopia that lies ahead
Wipe away their tears of dread 
Put all of your doubts to bed
Walk into the orchards of thousands of trees
Scan the rocky paths gingerly…
We’re grazing about like buzzing bees
Unveil the beautiful scene to everyone cheerfully
We can pass as psychopaths….sorry that I said that weirdly
Outlandish owls flutter about
In the current of the aqua-blue sky…we’re soaring so high, making me almost wanna cry! Never wave goodbye to surreal moments like these! 
They’re all going the same route
I can’t help, but ask myself why…why we don’t have the ability to fly like bountiful, pleased bees! God will hear our pleas and guide us with gentle breeze!
Reach to the baby blue sky in childlike innocence
Don’t be fenced in by sad reminiscence…
It will soon turn to the process of evanescence
Someday, we all must turn to repentance…
I’m sorry – I’m trying to help you in this circumstance
He’ll help us out in advance and enhance our joyous appeal – we’re dancing merrily in harmony…in unity, we twinkle with elegance like stars, brightening with brilliance!
Drifting, white clouds pass us by,
Blending and floating in the sundrenched sky
Leave the past behind us – there’s a bright future
With many bright opportunities…that will nurture
Broken-hearted souls like ours…
God has incredible, genius powers
Rely on Him and He’ll take us beyond the distance and fulfill our heart’s desires
He’ll put out the hindrance…the quarrels that spread like wildfires 
Know that God is far greater than men
He bestows us with miracles and gives us hope in mind again and again
So, when in doubt, look up to Him
And our hearts will flourish with far-fetched faith and He suits our fancy; our hearts are pumping with plenty of passionate pleasure – our lights will not dim! 
Instead, He'll fill our cups to the rim
If I were you, I would thank Him! 
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the ability to fly!
I'm crawling out of my shell; I'm bold as a lion, not shy like a sheep, grazing for who knows how long - I get on my knees and sigh...
Fine. I'll repent of my sins that I've committed in the past - it's the truth I cannot cover or deny!  

Details | Free verse | |

I See Myself

I saw myself hanging
yesterday, from a tree branch.
	A cold face
	and heavy arms and legs;
	a paleness to my skin,
which did not arise from the cold winter evening.
The tree was asleep,
ready to crack, the ice weighing it down.
I saw myself hanging yesterday,
from a tree by a noose.
And today, I see myself
	laying on the bathroom floor,
	spilling the blood from my
wrist, waiting for the pain to cease my life.

Details | Free verse | |

The Beautiful Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree stood proud and tall,
Decorated with lights that sparkle,
The decorations carefully placed on the tree branches,
To make the tree look beautiful,
Many would come to admire the tree,
Carols would be sung,
Stories would be told,
Friends gather and recognize,
The wonderful fellowship at Christmas,
Tea and cookies are served,
Delicious companions to conversations,
The simple wonder of being there,

copyright Gwen Schutz

Details | Free verse | |

Sinful Picnic

Hand in hand, traversing this garden
  bare feet felt the tingle of grass and vine
emerald green and lively sprawling growth
  delicate breeze gently blew swaying branches 
leaves danced in rhythmic praise to the elements
   Flowers fragrant, lovely....vivid hues
mocked the leaves dance in turn and tempo
  Reigning over stems, thorned and anchored
A symphony of unison, harmoniously perfect
   Swirling sky of ominous orange and indigo
Setting sun paints its final portrait 
  before conceding to the galaxy's window
Littered with sprawling clouds reflecting last touch of light
     Birds of prey savored this opportunistic backdrop

Upon this tree's final gift of shade
  We lay naked, natural as the world surrounding
Running fingers through your tussled tresses
  Eyes locked and searching...intercepting each others thoughts

Through emerald blades, slithered and hissed
   Serpent made way to our dissipating shade
Sly forked tongue, yellow eyes, pupils slits....hissing
  Laughing with ridicule and spite, promising euphoria
Offering unseen bliss,  inviting demise

  She peered upward past my down turned gaze
Searching out the gifts this tree bared
  Fear struck my heart as she licked her supple lips
Her teeth sunk in...Juice mist sprayed with 
 her savoring a forbidden bite...eyes glazed with ecstasy

My soul shook as her lips met mine
  Sweet nectar running over our mouths mingled
Frantically I drank her kiss, lusting
  Retracting only to devour our exquisite fruit
Rejoined embrace, tongues darting hungrily 

  Beneath this tree we lay, intertwined and sated
Glowing in sinful reminisce...eyes locked and searching
  The leaves above empty and sorrowed
We lay amongst a sea of eaten cores......

Details | Free verse | |

Written In Orchard

Those days (days of experience)!
I would travel some seventy miles a day, 
To accompany that golden woman as daily duty,
To that far countryside of Kellar.
Sometimes as dogs go mad in urge behind bi*tches 
In autumns and in springs,
And sometimes as  that Hindu god would see his deity beloved
By the stream-side.

My worried coughing father would warn me and advice
About women and the realities of life
But, I would reply with an arrogant smile.

These apples of neighbors have grown tall and thick
Than ours!
And these dried, broken trees,
These newly planted baby plants,
Bring tears into my eyes.

Details | Free verse | |

There was six

It wasn’t until this evening while I was sitting
in the hospital lobby watching blood pour from 
underneath my chair from the women behind me
waiting for my name to be murmured over the loud speaker
that I witnessed the depths our society is willing to go.

Directly across from me was Gertrude, I don’t think
that was her real name, but that’s what I called her Cyclops pouch 
that was playing peek-a-boo with the 5 month old child bouncing 
on her knee. The mother’s arms (if you could call her that) were 
as holy as a tree after a woodpecker has established residency 
and as blue as the vessels that carry blood to her heart. Maybe 
the doctors will show her how to properly insert a needle when 
she goes behind the curtain wall. 

To my left were the Espinoza’s, a family of five,
maybe six, there was a boy playing in the parking garage by a van
with a rock, he was waving it around like a wand.
The wife was the one having problems, she does not remember
them, even if she did, she couldn’t say them.
It was as if I was watching a 2 year old communicate with no teeth desperately trying to 
pronounce words that start with “S” or “F” 
At least she was trying. 
They couldn’t find their insurance card, she couldn’t 
remember where she put it. She looked at her translator for assistance but 
he was to busy rocking their child to sleep. 

In the corner were the Muses, it did not seem like there was 
anything wrong, as if their son or daughter dropped them off
hoping for something to happen to inherit the family fortune. 
I think they were really there to oversee the moral of the lobby, contracted out by the hospital staff to amuse 
and entertain frustrated numbers,
because that’s all we are, numbers on a chart board, names on a wristband, like cattle tagged by the ear. 
Jean was the older one; she had toes like crochet hooks, crossing over and looped,
Gladdys was younger, wearing a green jumpsuit with a gold Greek Key belt,
she looked like a dried out Christmas tree on the street leaning beside the trash cans after New Years. 

It was in the corner of my eye that I saw 
a sheer bit of hope for our World. Jean leaned over to the father, 
slipped money between the paint on his hands 
and the babies bottom and said,
	You have a beautiful family.

Details | Free verse | |

Family Tree

Our family tree will never stop growing…our faith and comfort will never crumble
Love grows here…so have no fear—God is near
My family, though packed up with pride and low self-esteem, still appears humble
Mirth produces joy and our hope gives birth to cheer

God is our Father; who could play this role as skillfully? Who, other than God, created the world so genuinely?
Love comes from He…so scare away the anxiety—God will grant us ecstasy
My family, though packed up with hope and despair, cherishes my soul with glee
Rebirth and life comes from He and our faith should draw near to thee

"i love you sweet boy..we will have fun this summer and be a close and godly family..nighty nit my light"
This summer, I am positive that we will be a close and godly family
But we must be lights of the world…and we must be willing to finish that race of hardships to earn His dignity
By all means, we will have an enjoyable break without paying a fee
But we must be God’s faithful followers…and we must be prepared to follow our Shepherd who is the key

Of never-ending faith and comfort, nourishing us abundantly
He still exists…He unravels the insanity
Of this world and set us free from blasphemy
Watching over us with pure vitality

Give us Your water
Don’t leave us in the gutter
Listen to the words we mutter

I pray that our family tree will look up to you devotedly

Details | Free verse | |


It was not so much the seed that grow in my dream
But the dream that grow from the seed
This seed so small, so fragile
This seed I nurtured watered and light with the glowing rays of the sun with in
I did it with out knowing, with out worrying
That when this seed sprouts, so shall I
I cared for this sprouting growing seed with out realizing that the branches and roots
Were planting beep into the soul of my brain
Creating a labyrinth of my sole
Each passing day it grow more stronger, more taller
Till its branches reach out my ears and up my nose
This once small seed was now my dream
So vibrant and strong
This dream tree sprouts unchanging leaves of personal gain
And I walk as tall as my tree, for I am just as strong
Yet I must have taken a wrong turn away from my sole light, ventured too far into the stormy night
I found my tree losing its strength as my ears and mind lessening to mean words of dreamless demands
My dream tree lost its laves one by one they fell drown, brown and dead
I tired to grab them, but they fell though my fingers, just dust on the wind
As time went on the dreamless demands raped there choking vines around my tree and feasted on my dyeing dreams
And know I stand not so tall
Just a shell empty and hallow
A dreamless being trying to find another seed

Details | Free verse | |


She lay on the sofa,
Two arthritis pain pills nearby, 
Holding a thin romance book
With a thin plot involving
An empty heroine, an empty hero,
Explicitly but tastefully making love.

I’ve heard, she said, closing the book,
Marking her place with a folded handkerchief,
That books with graphic sex  
Can be awfully boring.
What are those tall trees across the street?

Georgia pines, we told her.   
She asked:  Is the tallest one the father,  
And the other two son and daughter?   
We laughed.  All siblings, we replied.
She looked doubtful.  Then she said:  
I’m convinced trees talk, I wish I knew what about.
Since I'm eighty now, I suppose 
I'll never understand tree language.
I also think each tree has a soul,
The way people do -- don’t you?

What’s the glossy dark green tree on the left?  
A magnolia, we said, almost an evergreen.
Remember magnolias from Maryland?
Smaller ones -- we called them sweet bays.

Yes, she said, and smiled.  Beautiful small magnolias
With creamy blossoms, up on the hill.   

There’s a weeping willow, she went on,
A happy bouncy willow.
Look how gracefully it bends in the breeze!  

March had a cruel surprise:    
Four inches of icy snow, bitter winds..
The willow perished.  
Later a bush appeared in its place,
But we kept on picturing the willow.    
Next they replaced the grove of pines 
With a tire shop.
A year later, the magnolia was felled, 
And the house behind it, too.
Six condos were quickly built, 
And marketed for a million dollars each.

Still, we'd see when looking across the street, 
Superimposed on the replacements, 
The willow, the magnolia, the pines.
Lovely tree ghosts:  They had greeted us kindly.

By then our mother wasn't on the sofa or reading.
She was bedridden, and couldn’t focus on books.
Despite her dying heart, we all three 
Changed our residence -- an enforced move.

We hope the tree ghosts are still intact and active,
We'll always think of them with affection,
But my sister and I don't plan to visit that block again.
Our mother is not alive any more, either,
But we doubt she’s a ghost, like the trees.
We consider that she is
Bound up forever in the bonds of eternal life.
All the same, at times we’ll be overcome
By a wave of goodness and warmth,
Amazing beauty and strength,
Incredible devotion.
Then, puzzled, we'll discuss what happened,  
And the only sane conclusion we can reach
Is that Mama had paid us a fleeting loving visit.

Details | Free verse | |

Last Tree Standing

The earth warms slowly,
change resistant, barely noticeable,
vegetation recedes.

Fertile replaced by sterile,
water evaporated, not replaced,
vegetation recedes, sand marches forward.
Too late to react,
too late to correct,
the earth will survive,
man left to his fate.

Years of abuse and neglect have impact,
it is hot, not much left alive,
surrounded by sand, he begins to cry.

He stares at the small patch of vegetation 
surrounding the last tree standing,
watches as the vegetation disappears and
day turns to night.

Placing his back against the last tree 
standing, he cries.

Details | Free verse | |

A Fissure in the Fabric

Perfect tapestry,
a hundred years in the weaving.
Tiny sprouts 
grown into giant oaks,
sheltering birds, squirrels,

filtering the sun, 
shading the lane to our 
home, our sanctuary.

Ripped from the earth's fabric
by tornado's twisted spin, 
roots exposed to the elements,
leaves wilting, turning brown.

Tapestry destroyed. 
Can it be re-woven, restored?
Will the mending take 
another hundred years?

Details | Free verse | |

Another Acorn Falls

A acorn has fallen from the tree beside me 
Squirrels are playing 
Ignorant to life that surrounds them 
In such a joy as to be painted 
In such a way to capture the essence of happiness. 
I stare in awe, these creatures in playful contemplation 
One perches to strike out to the other 
Even as the other holds the same compliment 
And strike they do as gravity is debated 
Twirling squirrels in the sky. 
One has missed the branch of impedance 
As it tumbles downward to the earth 
And still the other chases in contemplation 
Capturing it's playful adversary in mid fall 
As the two clamber up again. 
Into the heights of fear they sway 
Climbing the branches to the peak 
With a leap and the hug of friendship they float 
A swirling tornado of furry ecstasy 
Drifting downward yet again. 
And downward they go 
A mid air-wrestling ring as gravity shows its strength 
To the ground they bounced and lie still 
As I thought they were dead their heads shook 
And together they chased up the branches of the tree. 
Another match they attempt 
Further up the branches as far as the tree could extend 
And as I watch 
This moving event of natural pleasure 
Another acorn falls. 

BY: DARREN J McMurray 
June 14, 2008 

Details | Free verse | |

Overbearing Tree

The big tree casts a giant shadow 
Over the little saplings surrounding him 
Keeping them in thrall long after he is gone 

He tied them tight to the past 
Squashing their youthful spirit 
And forcing them down the same tired path
He took to follow for himself 

His tricks are many and branches are big 
The saplings need to take a changing course    
For their own survival and identity 

At every crossing of roads 
They must slay the overbearing tree
And disparage his legacy 
To live and shine with their own individuality. 

Details | Free verse | |

Sounds Of Christmas

Like a picture postcard,
The choir stood in front of the Christmas Tree,
The lights on the tree sparkled,
The tree stood very tall,
Memories to be written here,
Traditional Christmas Carols were sung beautifully,
The seniors in the audience,
Delighted with the performance,
An afternoon come to life,
The sounds of Christmas,
Blessing us all,
Peace on Earth and goodwill to mankind.

copyright Gwen Schutz

Details | Free verse | |


Can you look out the window of your apartment
and say to the lone tree down the street,
“There’ll be no kittens on your branch today.”?

Or coax a raindrop to fall forthwith up,
back to its gray-blue consort
just to save a grownup rose’s precious petals?

I know the latter’s way too easy; so easy…

Can you advice excited stars
to untwinkle missed flickers of skylight
all for a blind man’s sake?

You do agnize it makes no difference, huh?
So might you try mustering words for this.
To make just what you think is best.

Then -

Why not put your spectacles away?
Or lay naked with emotions?
Why read the paper indoors
when light is out in the open?

Now I declare:
We’re lions with big game to catch;
what matters is the opinion of the pack
and what’s essential is the pride’s nod.

Now look out your window.
Let sunshine pierce through and for once
say to the tree down the street,
“I’ll grow branches for you today.”

Details | Free verse | |

The Old Tree

A time of innocence, laughter and joy,
Not a care in the money problems...never caring what you look like.
Just happy to be there.
With the ones who make you happy.

Old memories are the best of memories.

The old tree with its indistructable barrier holds many thoughts,
 now overgrown with weeds..leaves fallen leaving only it’s bare stem.
The tree which once held life, a place to sit, 
Just something to look at surrounded by history.

The old tree where it stands is what used to be life...

Now it stands alone.

Left to a life of sadness and eventual suffocation of green rope then...
No more.

How times have changed.

Details | Free verse | |

My Rainy Days

The rain keeps pouring down on me puddles of water start to suround me.
left right up down no matter where I was looking its falling down. 
I walk outside all dressed in my gear ready for the rain I can hear.
Looking up way up high still nothing but rain in the sky, I think I will get wet today.
Walking slowly I decide its time to have some fun, I jump from stone to stone trying not to dip my toes. I flap my arms and wiggle my nose trying to stay up stright you know.
At last I see a tree with branches so wide it could hide me. 
One last jump and I'm there hugging the tree like its my best friend.
Shaking all the water off of me, I look like a dog taking a bath, so I shake harder and laugh.
Finding a large branch I sit for a spell singing a rainy day song to myself.
Splat splat, drip drop, I look up and all around, I see the rain has ended and the sun shines down. 
Down from the tree I spring so fast.  Now is the time to make the best mup pies and watch them dry in the sun, theres never an end to my fun.
This is how I rember the rainy days of my youth,boy how I miss the old times.
Now all I have are my aching joints and runny nose.

What an adventure life is!

Details | Free verse | |

Unrepentant Miners

Unrepentant Miners

I look out over what should have been viridian fields
Where daisy and dandelions
Found their picturesque beauty
Wild and free

I felt the meadow of summer skies
Lay their heads beneath your bare feet
To kiss at your ankles with their secrets
Wild and free

I saw the written verses
Your laughter in April dales of rain
Beneath a willow tree you came to me
Wild and free

I heard you dance on dewdrops
From gentle hills to mountain heights
You pirouette in my eyes 
Pirate of my sighs
Wild and free

…………………..but the wealth of your heart
is a treasured prize
to another gluttonous search for gold
unrepentant miners gouge
excavate your beauty
to an open cast
terraces dug deeper than the scars

and though it hurts to see 
your dream piled like so much unwanted earth
still given time
in your own clouds of love
those bright yellow flowers
lift up the heads again

but still they search for the precious of you
they couldn’t see and never will
they claw at your soul
for riches they just can’t understand
and think a balm of shovelling it all back
you might grow again for them

they just don’t know that the dusty roads
have trampled you there

Wild and free

I touched the meads of winter skies
Lay their icicles beneath your feet
To kiss on your eyes with their secrets
Wild and free

I saw the unwritten pages
Your joy in the hidden streams
There beneath the willow tree when you came to me
Wild and free

And I watched you sing with lightning
From the echoed prowess of your storm
You dazzle in my eyes 
The sweet pirate of my sighs
Wild and free

…………………………..but to them your heart is a mine
open and cast with the scars
they are just too greedy to see
they think in the fields
where your treasures dwell
just iron and steel to build their world
and leave you a pit
to get on with your life
any way you can

I look out over your verdant fields
Where daisy and dandelions fall like gems
Found their prophetic serenity
Wild and free

Details | Free verse | |


There is that tree I ate from as a child
But cannot recognize again
Who planted it? What season will the leaves,
Foolish like a cotton candy clown,
Seduce my tongue to chase
Deprived succulence of fruit or flower?
I could wither things in a foreign place
But this home,
Why am I sensed as such an alien here?
The tree and I
Have a common bond,
An aniquity of inadequacy; a man's native home
Should be as simple as his native land -
O that I could be born again there,
The first place of my ancestors' first tear!
We do not cry
Until we lose ourselves in the emptinesss of our being,
I know, I know, I know!
That pain has an echo, 
A ghost that haunts the tree with fictive green:
See, only superficially we can belong.

A landmark is not
For things we lost, but the self
That we cannot find

Those things that we mark
Are always there, but we stray
In new memory

The ones they create
For people displaced like sand dunes
In the void of faith.

Details | Free verse | |

This crooked family tree

As I stand here gazing  upon
A row of trees nearing their demise
My mind is overcome by a barrage 
Of paralyzing truths
That have contaminated my spirit
Like a river transposing itself
Into an infested swamp
Nonetheless, the sight before me
Whispers to my imagination

This family tree is crooked: 
What compels ones sister 
To seduce another sisters husband? 
Just yesterday they were sharing
Clothes and make-up
Today, they share the same lover

The tree has become withered: 
Susie flees from home again
While Uncle Jake is far too under
The chains of influence to notice
I thought children came first
Then alcohol was second

That tree has shaded  to grey: 
Tony searches for drug money
While Aunt Sara is on the prowel
For a new husband at 
The corner tavern again
However, I did not realize
 New uncles were so easy to find

The branches are twisted: 
Mommy never kissed Santa Claus
On Christmas eve night, 
Instead, Aunt Sharon was kissing 
Her husbands brother under the mistletoe
After everyone went to sleep
Or so they thought, 
An old song takes on a new meaning

All the leaves have fallen: 
Great grandmother loved reciting
Stories of the family history
It is now that I understand why, 
She left some tales untold

So I wonder, 
Who planted these trees?

Details | Free verse | |


A big tree will stand in my yard,
A very big tree it will be.
This tree will be the home of many,
The home of many birds and bugs.
The playground of children and birds.
Its' leaves will fall in Fall,
These leaves will make fun for small kids,
And work for me too.
A tree will also begin from this tree,
And years from now when I am gone,
Many birds and bugs will still make their homes
And still sing their songs.
A big, good tree will stand in my yard,
A tree of God.

Details | Free verse | |

First Star

After a long summer day, in a dwindling light
A world switches direction, falling into the preamble of the stars

When the shadows of telephone poles along our road
                seem to curl and follow the curve of the earth

When the shadow of a tree becomes
                longer than ever a tree was tall

When my own silhouette, so dark, fluid, and stretched...
                lets me walk between the dampening grass and touch the heavenly sky

As the sun loses grip, hanging on by a thread
           on the edge of the world,
                my arms stretch longer,...long enough...
                      to catch the first star 
                                            that comes with twilight...


Details | Free verse | |

Summer Memories

The sweet smell of pine
prickles my nose.
It reminds me of that summer
I met you under the stars.
Seems like only yesterday
your strong hand
grabbed mine so tenderly.
With grainy sand between our toes,
we walked along the moonlit beach.
The ocean waves lapped against
the shoreline we strolled.
As we gazed at the beautiful night sky,
the heavens twinkled and smiled.
Morning came as I woke up
in your arms.
Gently a breeze flowed in
through the open window.
On it was carried the scent
of a pine tree - 
the very tree that became memory's bliss.

Details | Free verse | |

The Still Autumn Sundown

the still sundown settles heavily
in the pine boughs on my trail,
gathering strength all day,they 
release a few scents as I pass by,
just showing off!

a change in awareness commands
my attention, as evening envelopes
my path...I notice the arched lights 
on the footbridge, reflected in perfect
symmetry on the canal below

the Snow Tree Crickets chirp a perfect
66 degrees...  Night Hawks swoop and
enjoy a late dinner

different layers of air temperature
wave over me... moist warmth, releasing
from the ground, about 2-feet, then a layer
of cool fall air, sensational!

lovers, hand in hand, smile in greeting,
as I pass by... Snow Tree Crickets chirp
a perfect 63 degrees,

I'm almost home!

Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Light

i learned, on the nightly news, autumn leaves
are actually pushed from branches
to make space for the coming winter snows
which would be too weighty for the tree to bear.

In essence, the tree becomes bare to bear.
that makes the fall sound bland.

i shine to thinking fall's leaves coming down
like confetti for the ending and beginning of years.
this allows for the necessity 
as well as the romanticism of the season --
a celebration of circumstances.

Details | Free verse | |

Great Treesition

Wood sapped Energy succudancing gnarling roots

grasping trees of life

erupt to full parasitic bloom

within millennial Great Transition

toward autumnal winnowing of karmic stamina.


Fire brings full-flaming confidence

derived from summer's thirsty rain of seed-

diastolic recessing roots

plunging and emerging

as rich deep regenetic learning:

Communing forests blanket mythic understories.


Keep going back, back further,

before space emerged from tempered Voice

to once within our EarthTribe Time

when Trees of Life pushed out

from gravitas of boldly

hidden polyculturing embrace.

Villages incarnate from fire-lit stories shared,

and love of Other

bursting nutrient notes

dancing Earth's Permacultured Opera.


My chords and chorus sing through ears

I hope to synchronize with gratitude,

sight with sound

becoming with being

longing with belonging

bi-rooted functions

uncovering emergent Tao

graving information of Positive Treeology.


What grows primal

feels irrationally magical


green-leafed anonymously silent saplings

waving from and for ancient cliffs of paradigmatic rock.


Stoned paradigms of ancient Orthodox

sing echoing synchronicity,

dancing rocks within my rolling mind

learning how to rhyme with age,

unfold color fragrant grace-carnating Tao.

Details | Free verse | |



Tall Tree 
She is not short this lady she is not so VERY tall to out shine me she loves me 
this eye  knoe she clearly knoes 
She clearly knoes eye am a short white man this is no puppy love she even 
knoes eye am religious and she makes references to GOD and this is pleasing 
unto me this religousness inside of TALL TREE she love me. 
There aer not too many creek Indian lady who make eye at me 
this one eye will keep her as iff we married back when we met 
the many people that eye have known the sins and aggravations 
just seem to disappear when eye have my sweetY heart again 
she is the tall creek Indian maiden pocahuntus called Tall Tree. 
She is the only Valentine for me.

Details | Free verse | |

One Single Needle

Here I stand, on a porch of fragrant aspen wood bewildered by the sea of 
sparkling diamonds shimmering in the sun just past the edge of the wood.
	Eyes squinted, for the brilliant sun is lingering high above the earth’s 
atmosphere smiling over the beautiful scenery of George Lake. 
	The large mass of water, not a true sea, but a lake snug fit inside 
high banks of mossy lands.
	White scattered pillows of clouds up above as if looking upon the 
battlefield of a recent children’s pillow fight residing upon a baby blue blanket 
which fills the entire sky making the day bright and beautiful.
	Though eyes wander about the magnificence of this marvelous sight, 
they stop and admire the most over looked piece to the puzzle of scenery which 
lies before me. 
	A spruce tree, not too large in size, nothing spectacular which draws 
attention unlike the others, but just a spruce tree which has graced this cabin 
with its presence growing unnoticed for many year’s. 
	The sunlight beams upon this tree as if it had a purpose, a higher 
significance than its kind. 
	I slowly turn to admire the beauty of each half inch long pine needle 
which covers its branches. 
	I reach out and lightly brush one with my finger, causing it to fall into 
the palm of my hand with a light feeling weighing as much as a single strand of 
	This single needle is even textured if one were to look only a bit 
closer. Only one being could be responsible for such astounding detail.
	I knew there were many, but this tree must contain hundreds, 
thousands or even millions of tiny needles! 
	A thought is brewed up, an epiphany; I look about the marvelous lake 
in its sparkling state and see the hundreds of thousands of trees surrounding 
the water as if it were a barrier for no one to get in, or out. 
	This tiny needle I hold in my palm is one of an enormous number 
only God himself could count, for he is the brilliant designer of this overlooked, 
but oh so complex beauty. 
	This one single needle is beautiful, size does not matter. 

Details | Free verse | |

Cornucopia Providence

Free Verse:

Gloriously big pecan tree yields,
Nuts keep falling like soft cool rain.
Mother Nature provides for her own.


Haiku of this poem

Big pecan tree yields,
Nuts falling like soft cool rain.
Mother Nature's prize 

Details | Free verse | |


The weeping cherry tree retails 
Its showroom as a work of art.

All pink, more golden sparkle
coming out of cherry tree 
In perfect beauty delight.

As a thief one...two.. and three
Cherries are stolen
For her lover in rest.

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Autumn in Oxford

Walking into meadows,
we wandered across the

steep bridge and watched
the students rowing.

The narrow boats moved
smoothly under the tall

trees and the oars glided
gracefully on the river.

as the instructor called
out from time to time.

Keeping their movements
in tune with nature, they

floated into the landscape,
and we moved further along

the rich carpet. Crackling
sounds filled our ears,

the burnished leaves fell
gently at our feet as our

time together evaporated.
Years later, memories

stir in the landscape
of our drawn out silence.

From Perfume of the Soil.  Swan Press,  1999.

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send him out of his mother's womb

Send him out of his mothers womb!
into a new moon of snare free engagements
fragrance seeps through his skin while animals fall from the cloudless sky
like rainstorms 
the animals send worms to pavement, as all things need air
the man can feel his thoughts, but are they really there?
he receives short lived lashes...
those gashes go unfilled and turn into stashes of wasted potential
he has no vindication 
compromising wiser words his life is filling with implications
a rising tree growing near him
stops short of it's potential and bends in anticipation, 
the tree asks the man.......
“what really lies within?”
with no response.......
the man looks into himself and he knows what he wants
the man falls into the river and floats in his own thoughts

Send him out of his mothers womb!
Manage this man's mind and free him of this tree's questions bind
he floats downstream and dreams of that tree 
hopes to god that he hasn't injured it's branches and leaves
he knows “what lies within” but the question sinks the man who could hardly swim
deep in the river it's too dark to see
clarification and love are mysterious things

I'm still working on this one a bit..

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GOD’S TREES Poem: Victoria H. Peurifoy © 10/27/2006 God has a way with his trees, The autumn, spring, winter and summer trees are all beautiful in his form. It is amazing as I ride the highway, how God has just Touched each tree and given us Shades of green, auburn, burgundy, yellow, gold, pea, and moss and even gray. The colors don’t seem to end. Even browns, tans and other hues envelope the earth. God gives us different heights, sizes, shapes and dimension just with the touch of his finger or with just a thought in his mind. Feel the breeze from his breath. We need to appreciate the natural beauties with which God has blessed us. Sometimes his nature seems inconvenient for us, but we often forget his nature was here before we were thought about. More colors have I discovered, as I ride this highway. God has made us with colors too; And they too, we have not learned to appreciate. We are just like God’s trees, colorful, shapely, short to gargantuan, and rooted in our ways. God’s trees are of his spirit and mindset. We destroy God’s tree just like we destroy ourselves. The next time you see God’s tree, smile to yourself about how wonderful God is, and how wonderful are his trees.

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Cheph111 chapter eleven 11 :

Cheph111 chapter eleven 11 : 
Cheph111 chapter eleven 11 : 
STOKKER in the house. 
He walked past the brown olive tree again without a glance the thing was already 
dying and withered there had been no olives there and with a word and a look of 
disdainfull glee the stokker had destroyed the tree. The olive tree was unfrozen 
the climate on MARS was always cold but never freezing.  The house was near 
now in the distance the airlock loomed like a menace on the horizon stokker 
upon entering the airlock found to his astoney that the pants he was wearing to 
hike in had BALLONED to a great size and he looked just like a harem scarem 
foreigner making all the ladies smile. The MRS. Of the house almost screamed 
at him GET THOSE pants off and get them off now. 
TO be continued When stokker had eaten she brought him his pack. NO not 
another bite eye have to walk back he was saying eyeing that FULL field bag with 
some barbaric concern of a nordic ancestor playing havoc in the snows of all the 
past mistakes. She said eye have to attach the food bags NO he smiled. WHEN 
the MarYlin and the charlax and the MATRON all have come back with me then. 
Then he smiled feed them and me again. 
OKAY she smiled at him for stokker was quite the profile. 
Until next CHAPTER stay tuned don't touch that mouse and smile.

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Tall Tree 
She is not short this lady she is not so VERY tall to out shine me she loves me 
this eye  knoe she clearly knoes 
She clearly knoes eye am a short white man this is no puppy love she even 
knoes eye am religious and she makes references to GOD and this is pleasing 
unto me this religousness inside of TALL TREE she love me. 
There aer not too many creek Indian lady who make eye at me 
this one eye will keep her as iff we married back when we met 
the many people that eye have known the sins and aggravations 
just seem to disappear when eye have my sweetY heart again 
she is the tall creek Indian maiden pocahuntus called Tall Tree. 
She is the only Valentine for me.

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rainbow seekers

the right path or the left path , from stories of old ,
each one leading to a pot of gold ,
the tree of life , and the withering tree ,
hither and thither , here and there ,
what we found , wither is , were a tree ,
a shadow on sacred ground .

two seperate messages , written into mankinds constitution
free will and choice , only one leads to absolution
love is our pathway , but roadblocked with fear
pain and suffering , garments stained with our tears
hope and faith are within' , true attributes
we must continue to reach out and contribute
against all odds and cruel assumptions
against distraction and misguided presumptions
unconditional love is our true guide
the wise , not the sly , are the ones to abide
the magi , sages , wise men of the ages
forewarned of books with empty pages
the literal interpretation and translation
has created more confusion than fusion
a roadmap of sorts , to light up those pathways
of our own spiritual journey , towards the secrets
those mysteries locked up inside all .

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Modern Waste

Train winded whistling and chugging,
leaving behind the city concrete,
it swiftly lunged into the green expanse,
fresh air blew ,trees swayed ,
as the blue yonder and bright sun,
set the terrific backdrop to the moving,
eyes do seldom settle on all but for a fleeting moment,
Mine did so accordingly and several times,
I noticed city concrete was behind,
but organic links of city concrete,
to the bucolic and rural was still there,
stood loftily in the green expanse,
were huge steel girders supporting,
the intricate network of high tension ,high voltage electric wires,
all of a sudden reminding one that in years this would also be city concrete,
suddenly in a flashmy eyes stilled on adark chlrophylled tree,
silhoutted and outline majestically in the green field,
It was a lonesome and noticeably big tree in that expanse,
but that was not what caught my attention for sharp,
It was the clique of white large bucking swans,
that had flown to rest after a laborious swim,
from a nearby pond and sat relaxing for breath,
that caught me sharp and really sharp,
the clique almost formed a pure white outline,
to the dark chlorophylled tree top,
near to the tree ran the straights of high tension,high voltage electric wires,
before I could swallow the beauty of flutterings swans,
one of them flew hard and staright into the electric wire,
there was a loud flash of electric current and twith a last life leaving flutter,
the swan crashed to the ground dead,
the train chugged winded along unconcerned,
but me sitting inside the train was stirred to shaking,
I had witnessed just now how modernity had wasted the nature,
and would do so till it is all completely gone.

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Mosquito Hum

Dry afternoon, floating breeze upon the hips of the earth
Languid bodies in lawn chairs awaiting rebirth
or the hum of mosquitos
to signal it's time to go in.

To go in, to forget about this perfect afternoon, this ecliptical night
Lips to sip wine out of Waterford crystal, plastic forks to go with the plates.

Squirrels sneaking up to drink water off the pool cover
Tree like the four corners of the world shading us
We have no brain power on this lazy day and a conversation of this tree ensues
It's west limb is a menace to the house, the roof, and all mankind in general.
The consensus is split sharply in two.  Half say: "Tear it down" in murmurs about forthcoming monster storms,
half groan in disgust at the thought of killing a living thing.
A lone peach from the neighbors tree has tempted us on "our" side of the fence 
-this too is talked about in great detail, as the earth spins, the tide pulls, we age silently, night taps us on the 
shoulder, the mosquitos hum - and with our dry eyes, just adjusted to the dark, we bid good night...

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The Tree of life

The crystal ball ablaze with the moon to unfold the magic of fantasy
In streaks of light fall on the tree of life to cradle my love for her soul
Deeply she clings to me in her ecstasy as moments seem to break up;
The very nature of life craving for rebirth lore’s: together as unified.
Yonder lies the universe in turmoil struggling with the unknown life
Exulting in beauty for ever and ever in infinite vibes of fascination:
Let me adore her splendor for separation is imminent, a divine will.
To the core I must drench my self, in her longing of body in fusion
Yearning in desires of the flesh, as she releases her brutal passions
Blessed by the twinkling stars; blue skies and the joyous tree of life:  
Savor the last kiss as we unite entwined in freedom from this world	
Caress-float the sea of divinity, as one to breathe each others aroma:

Burning in loves torture, groaning within the body’s submissive thirst;
Quenched forces of unbridled thrusts and cravings in supreme fusions:   

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Her Lost Story

A little girl, not yet the age of thirteen 
Plays alone amongst the bushes and the trees
Innocent and playful are her heart and mind
Graciously untouched by the harmful, unkind
Leaves begin to fall all about; revolving around her delicate feet
They glide down like paper; the weight of their sorrow forcing them to defeat
A young river, now full of life, flows swiftly nearby
Its sparkling clear beauty, glimmers of new light, shimmering down from the new day’s sky
The river slowly begins to cool
Its gentle touch is soft as the lamb’s freshly woven spool
The fog from the water creates new scene
A scene in her head that appears to be unclean
A chill from the winds creeps up her spine
Spreading in ridges leaving all kinds of lines
The thought of fear never crosses her mind
Not even the moment she is stuck from behind
The darkness of shadows drains into her sight
She is unwilling, unable to move or fight
The cold river once clear, is now filled with fog and color
Color like the leaves left behind by the earth mother
A warm wind blows along the bends
From the east; caring swift voices till they descend
The voices seem calm enough
Showing only glitches of the strong willed, the tough
Soon into the night they grow with greed and envy
Then slowly die out with the sounds of her pleas
A little girl not yet the age of thirteen 
Died alone, by a river; she was crushed by a falling tree
Not one heard the tree fall
Nor the screams of her call
Her body never to be found
Left to rot between the tree and the ground
Yet her spirit lives on
Living for the nature far beyond

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The Mustard tree

The First one who comes 					                      
In humble silent strength  					                   
Jesus is the fist and last     					           
Beginning and the end    					                    
Let there be the amen 					                 
New new peace’s King            						
A little one rejected  							  
The cornerstone of all creation    						    
Praise YA praise YA halleluyah   					              
Yasha-shah Yasha-shah                   					 
praise God  praise God  					                  
God saves God saves 						
The last one bearing the name 				                                      
Of true covenant of God                                                                                                  
Life’s seed the righteous tree 						  
The tree of life bearing fruit there of     	                   			   
All twelve nourished by the thee  					    
Wisdom to Love he reigns above            					
A small seed that was   						  
The vine that is                                                                                                            
The tree to come     							   
So it is it is so

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Pine Cone

The pine cone,
The wooden pine cone,
The brown pine cone,
Had a long story to narrate,
Its parent tree grew along a hill slope,
Fruit was born on its node,
When tree was about twenty feet long,
It began as a green soft nodal presence,
Loads of nutrient soon came along,
Sun shone bright,
And air zoomed to and fro,
The parent sucked all the water it could,
Days went fast,
And fruit began catching with youth fast,
Soon it had acquired fleshy arms,
Spread in conical splendor,
It now hung down,
Sun now shone real bright,
Bathing it day and night,
Tanned and tanned,
With nutrients flowing to new and fledgling,
The fruit had turned mature,
Its tether to the parent was also not so sure,
Winds blew one day hard,
And the pine cone came hurtling down,
It lay there unattended by mountain folks,
And was scraped again and again by the nature,
Till the time I came along,
And picked it up for its pristine beauty,
All of this and more,
Was told to me by the cone,
As it hung in my living room to decorate.

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Beautiful Tree Of Life

Count down until
that wonderful day
when I will see that
beautiful tree of life
and touch the face
of my dear Jesus
and thank Him
for all that He
did for me.

Beautiful tree of life
heard so much
about it and
of heaven, waiting
until that dear day.

Glory land I'm coming
soon, will be a happy
day when I touch
that beautiful tree of life.

wrote 9-12-08

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We had lined both side of our driveway
with a variety of pine trees,
what we called evergreens,
each a different size,
the tallest by the road.

Before mid-November,
my Dad would take me
to where he had spotted
a good tree, a place
with no houses near,
in his travels to the bars,
the beer gartens,
he frequented around the county
to whet his whistle.
A good tree was about five feet tall,
no wide and not thin.
We'd dig up the tree,
keeping a big root ball,
place it in a metal wash tub,
which was about 2' in diameter
and a foot deep,
carry the tub
back to the car
and set it in the trunk.

We kept the tree outside
until a week before Christmas,
unless it got too cold,
which it did most winters,
and then we'd put it in the celler
by a window.
We'd bring the evergreen up
into the living room,
still in its tub,
center it on one wall,
(the recliner squeezed into a bedroom)
and my sisters would decorate the tree.
After the holidays, we took it
back down to the basement
where I watered it every week
until spring.

Dad and I would lug the tree out,
each with a hand on the tub's handles
and one underneath.
We'd plant it next in line
along the driveway,
moving toward the house,
making our history that way.

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That tree was not tree,
it was a giant,
for it spread so far and wide,
from point to point,
it shaded more,
than it allowed sunlight through,
all of them came from far and wide,
to get its view,
the tree was symbol of stability and patience,
its message was if you stand tall,
wearing summers,winters rains and all,
you do survive,
and grow up to be this size,
it sheltered so many down under,
as if telling all,
that a might has to save the weak,
from worldly thunders,
it also spoke in unison,
along with its shoots,
now almost trees,
that united we stand,
and alone we hit the grand stand.

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Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather

satisfied with me .   I Looked at TREE.

What if anything do I knoe about TREE.

It used to be a thing made out of wood ,  always tall,

with branches near the ground.  Roots fingering the ground.

Life comes up somehow to TREE.  Water cascades down to ground, seeping 
slowly into ROOT.  ROOT transmogrifies

the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.

People still tell me,  Tree just cannot live.

There is  no real feeling in TREE.

There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.

People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.

I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.

He Makes all the TREE begin , upon a distant planet,

Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.

And every meadow of his earth.

The ONE who gave me birthe the second time around.

The ONE who gave me TREE.

And Time to write this down.

The Virgin Birth.


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Red Thorns Growing

Along this path,
I walk, as I spy
by the pond,

red thorns growing,
from the tree trunk,
of this dignified tree.

All the way to
the tip top I see,
them on this,

enchanting tree,
  such a marvel,
  I behold,

of this bewitching,
   tree so rare,

even thorns,
   on the branches,
such a awesome,

thing of nature,
placed here at
  Lowell ponds.

wrote 9-17-08   Note here:  if anyone knows what kind of tree this is, please let me know.

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Changing Canvas

I was in jungle,
Deep woods with plenty of dense green,
A meandering river flowed through the middle,
And there was a rocky terrain well caved on its west bound,
The pathways were skewed and well spread,
Made only of original mud,
There were animals, birds and more of them,
Spread everywhere,
They had homes, vistas and what not,
I was ambling swooshing in mounds of free oxygen,
Careful of not encountering anything hostile or feline,
Suddenly my companion saw the “tree”,
They said it was the oldest with girth running almost free,
I said may be it was older than a century or two,
They replied perhaps it was older,
And the jungle was before it in temporal yonder,
I picked one leaf which had fallen from a wild tree,
And thought and saw as far as my eyes could see,
How many times this tree had sent down fallen leaves,
Before it was born,
How many more of trees were born and perished,
Before this tree was born,
Here there is a an ant mound and there you have serpentine abode,
Deers have their dry grasses thrashed out,
Peacocks look out for small bushes to nest in,
Wild boars wander around and rest in thrushed burroughs,
Foxes are placed in small stony holes,
While felines couch on trees,
Or choose the more spacious caves,
Everything is spread out randomly,
As if by some kind of animal will,
The canvas of nature has this drawing for centuries,
And it has remained so,
While in the same interregnum,
We humans have graduated from being animals,
And totally changed the drawing on canvas.

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Robin's Tree House

As I depart from the
trail and into the
bushes I go.

Robin's tree house right
above my head, so many
fine birds, four or five I see.

Such a charming bird,
sounds coming from
them so gentle.

Robin's tree house by
the pond, but
hidden so well.

Goodbye my robin
chums, until
another grand day.

wrote 9-19-07  at Lowell ponds