My slender boughs are bowed
by the great weight of my grief,
and these are not leaves
cascading to soil, but tears of teal.
I am shaken by a sorrowful breeze;
my sap taken by the fading light,
dried out and hollowed, a rasp of parched bark;
creaking and weeping
with the weight of my mythology
as cold takes hold, scoring its mark on bark,
rippling and stippling my leaves;
a shivering shroud of green settling over me.
Yet eternity rings coil at my core, ensure
tiers of teardrop leaves will glisten with life again,
drooping and dripping in a shimmering baptism of rain.
A conceited spring leaf, with pride in its heart
Its vigor and its beauty
The tree, how important it and its sibling leaves were,
And that without them naked the tree would have remained
Foliage, that so majestically the tree had dressed which, not only
Oxygen supplied to the tree
Also protection from the wind and for the birds a place to
Make their home.
The tree, after the leaf its long monologue had finished,
Turned towards it and asked with a sardonic smile:
“Where would you be, my newborn friend, if I were not
To provide, my branches for you to grow on
Nourishment from my roots that are hidden in the
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 MARCH 2015
* All stories I write with such dialogues, are the result of inspiration.
If, however, the story is not a poetic one, Please, blame me and not
From seed to sprout
Then twig to bough
From shade to light
Together upward t`ward the sun
From hope to faith then love,
Embrace my death,
And grow with me.
A flock of Christmas doves
carried a turquoise veil
through a white winter sky
and found a willow tree
weeping and alone
in the cold of a December day
The veil was pinned in the sky
and twenty five doves
alit in the bare branches
so the tree was no longer alone
as it listened to the song
of the doves in the chilled morning air..
I am naked now, my limbs are bare
A chill blows through me during the night air
No one notices me, children do not climb
I stand still hoping not to lose a branch of mine
No green, no orange, no red I am just grey
This season I do not like because of being this way
Soon the sun will begin to show
My little buds of color start to glow
Encircled by luscious green grass I will be
Seasons are my life, this next one I like.
©Holly P. Moore
My bark is worn from time and life
My steady branches have withstood much strife
The life blood that raged in my youth
Its edges raw and at times uncouth
Time has polished and as steel has hardened
As I have stood watch faithfully in my garden
My saplings I have sheltered and nourished
Their tiny sprouts have grown and flourished
My work here is almost done and
I was content to stand silent in the sun
However, one day as I stood alone
Came a carpenter with hands gentle and strong
He looked past my peeling ragged bark and
Found my barely beating heart.
He has caused me to dream of my youth again
Of beauty, peace and the passion of men
I am his project to mold and to make
A challenge only he is equipped to take
I stand here now curious to see
What this craftsman can make of me.
Glorious spring sunshine kiss my limbs as they sprout
With each opening bud, "I'm so alive" I want to shout
April showers cling to me as I drink each delicious drop
Hopefully chosen by blue jays to build their nest atop
Caterpillars and ants tickle me as they crawl to and fro
Nothing sweeter than watching everything around me grow
Come sit under me, take a break from the hot summer sun
Join me as I watch the baby birds leave their nest one by one
Let's marvel at the beautiful butterflies that flutter all around
The music of my friend the humming bird will surely astound
Smell the delightful fragrance of all the many flowers in bloom
Capture the magic nearby of a newly wedded bride and groom
I'm bursting with colors of yellow, orange, red, gold and brown
I proudly smile each time one of my leaves cascade down
Laughing children make my day as they roll in my splendor
You taking my picture makes this memory much more tender
Scurrying squirrels truly fascinate me, as my acorns they hide
Forgotten ones will one day be my saplings, I'll burst with pride
Snow flakes have delightedly dressed me in a suit of white
City folk string me with lights, I boastfully light up the night
Skaters whipping by me, their energy and actions are compelling
I feel so very blessed to have been rooted within this dwelling
Come and join in the festivities and beauty of each and every season
Become a memory on my branches, I can't think of a better reason
*Dedicated to the 50-80 year old trees in Gage Park, Brampton
The tree stretches its branches
Like a cat waking up from sleep
Its leaves give a little shake
Almost like a gentle sneeze
Looks down at the passing river
Snaking its way past its roots
Watering nature as it meanders by
Grass and plants with wormlike shoots
Where is this river running to
What mysteries does it leave behind
Any evil teardrops to poison you
Or just happiness of the watery kind
Whatever hope this picture brings
Look for the sun as it bursts with song
Remember that tree with its catlike stretch
And the lazy river meandering along.
It is strange
how things that we see
and take for granted
in everyday life
should suddenly instil
in our minds
a new awareness
of their presence
A silent moment
a brief pause
from life's ever quickening pace
a moment of peace -
in times like these
a common thing
like a dried old tree
becomes alive with beauty
It stands like a quiet sentinel
who has witnessed
many an event
Time has passed by
but it remains
silently standing there
What secrets do you store
in your noble branches?
How many events have you recorded
that man knows nothing of?
In your younger days
when you wore your mantle of green
you nested the carefree birds
to their offspring
you gave protection
When the sun scorched the earth
you gave them cool shade
On a cool windy night
you gave them warmth
How pleasant was their song
to your ear
as they sang a song of thanks
You were a playmate to the children
When they romped at your feet
or climbed on your branches
Time grew older
and the children became lovers
You saw them kiss in your shade
soft with the light of the moon
The aura of their love
touched your leaves
and you blushed
they have all gone away
but you still remain
still waiting and watching
How many untold events
have you witnessed
faithful keeper of secrets?
O that my soul could commune with you
and share of your rugged beauty!
Most Noble Tree!
forgive me for my
I know your father,
And his fathers too,
I know you all,
And now, without a frown
You want to tear me down.
Do your fathers know ?
And children`s children ?
I feed the air,
Embrace the earth.
I keep the flame,
And waters hold.
How will you cope,
When I am gone
Devoid of hope?
The air will choke
And earth will move
Fires consume and
Waters wash away.
When I am gone, how will you cope,
Dear one, devoid of any hope?
In our quiet senario,
I saw a tree stare
At me, it told me it
Was going to die
I asked why and it
"I doth Love but
I asked why.
It replied in tears,
"My hours has come,
soon it Would be thine.
I too wept.
In the forrest of people
I am the Chunky tree
with long roots.
I communicate under ground-
I have curves an
I lift my face
and my hands
to the heavens,
slim and beautiful
Still I am not
eager to become
tree in the woods.
I dance seductively
when the wind blows
I bow and bend
my bough proudly
I reverence the
Submission is the
only survival I know.
The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”
Time drones slowly on
Each day...an eternity
Snowflakes change to frozen rain
Leaving icicles on the tree
I barely notice spring's approach
Budding branches on the tree
Or summer's sun-kissed bounty
From the garden planted for me
Fall arrives in all its glory
Nature's artists on a spree
Painting glorious colors
For all the world to see
I do not see this beauty
The golden leaves upon the tree
To me it has no relevance
For you're not here with me
The sand is flowing slowly
Through the hourglass of time
Now the days fly by too quickly
Soon the tolling bell will chime
But I cherish these fading days
And our promised rendezvous
When the last grain has flowed
Then I will be with you
For John Freeman's contest (your best shot) _
Copyright©2004 Beatrice Boyle
(All Rights Reserved
To me, the tree is an ideal friend.
At day he listens,
And at night he whistles,
Whispering to me what only an ancient can know.
If I was given one wish free
by a fairy from beyond our times,
I’d tell her that I wish to be
an agèd, stately chestnut tree
rooted deep in solid ground,
my sturdy trunk not being bowed
to some ill-humored gust,
my branches growing high and wide
so gifted with all seasons’ pride,
such as Spring’s blossoms,
Summer’s shady velvet-green,
and getting cooler in the Falls
I’d blush with joy to shed
all of my shining fruity balls,
before I stand in peace
while my bald arms are letting pass
a Winter’s frosty cruelties,
trusting the cycle soon will start anew
and I will love to spread my lush crown over you.
Once was a tree
Not just any ordinary tree.
Once was introduced to a
of no worries for
Once was a special tree
those who planted me.
Once grew without
my purpose on earth.
I guess it's nature.
To survive, from birth.
All I needed was nurture.
Once friends I had would
converse with I in the
Once we would bow due
wind blows in the
Once I survived death
Once time came when
of the woodlands
ordered to cut
down the trees grown
Once in my life said
my friends I thought I'll
the rest of my life.
Once I felt the wrath of
on the bright side of it,
purpose was revealed.
Once my life has new
substance to the
world is my purpose on
Once again the OWNER
choose my future from
Once Was A Tree....
Flowers, grass, bushes, trees, attracted me in garden
In centre, a tree stump seemed to have complain
Stump was sobbing, none was caring
Moved by tears, I moved closer to stump
Stump bit in solace, narrated nostalgia bit by bit
“ Was once gardens fame tree, grew lovers favorite flowers,
Lovers plucked flowers, friends wish came true for sure
On Valentine day, seeking wish fulfilling flower
Lovers thronged, broke stem as they hysterically lunged,
Lovers got flowers, their love life flowered
A child could not get flower, wept on failure
Queried, you are a child, flowers are for lovers
Child wept louder said he too was a lover
Flower he wanted to present it to his Mother
Tears kept trickling , as if stump it was watering
Since then, every day child devotedly kept watering
Waiting for flower, be first one to pluck fresh flower
And present it to his dear Mother "
Deeply moved by childs love for stump,
I felt ashamed for mad urge of plucking flower
Flowers, thereafter, never plucked, left on tree to adore
Not wanting to be sinned for depriving any child's present for mother
Now all stumps attracting me first and more than flowers
( Entry for Members Contest - I fell in love with a Tree stump by Matt Caliri )
You chew your papaya like you chew her head.
Callous and savagely,
You take out each seed, like you did of hers.
Each seed she sowed in you, you spit out from your soul.
You think you can slice away from her life, give her a piece and let her go.
Aah but what do you know?
She has already killed the biggest seed sown by you.
In her womb lies the remains that you spewed!
The remains of the Papaya tree you grew...
Sweet flower tree whispers hello
Walking past she interrupted...
Glorifying wings of spring on her branches
Marveling her purple paper star shower
Inhaling her peaceful unlocked power
My spirit has lifted....
"Hello, I whisper back,
"Thanks for interrupting!"
^(How a tree made me feel today)
A young tree stands amongst weather
Strapped down with only a small piece of wood and leather
It’s been beaten down by wind and rain
It’s been left alone to cry in shame
Left aside in a harshest environment
Its bark is almost torn off
The tree is pitched toward a sloping trough
No one fertilized it before the winter
Soon it may look like a giant splinter
But the young tree still stands up tall
He’s fighting through a mighty snow squall
The salt from the road has left him weak
It looks like things for him, are pretty bleak
The years wined by and the tree still stands
With a sad spirit and a wounded bands
It tells a story of the years of pain
And all the damage it disdained
He stands today with a slight pitch to one side
It’s the love of God that’s kept him alive
Who are we to say that “when a tree falls in the forest some day does it make a
sound especially if no one is around?”
Only one thing is for certain that is to be as long as no one got hurt, or it did not
cause damage to any property “who cares”
These things and sayings are what it is to be, and only the lessons learned are
what they are to me
And for One final not any tree that falls in a forest with no one around makes one
simple sound “ THUD “ You learnt that one from me
Once there stood a tree so Grand
With yellow flowers and confidence,
She bent and swayed with each day
So eventually I came her way.
Her branches grew so very strong
Around the small and broken one
She guided me through those trees
Taking each step so wonderfully
The tree so strong stood watching me grow spiritually
Then somehow withered woefully
I did not notice her go away,
Unaware of her despair, I marched Onwards
Without warning,she became tangled with vines,
Now I see the tree you used to be
You were so strong and we did belong
But now you’re gone, oh! What went wrong?
That tree is my mother I followed so close
And God made her strong and we did belong
To someone so wonderful, but someone else could see
The happiness that came to me,
so he took her away from me!
Though one branch hangs uncomfortably
My tree tries to grow stubbly
While God lifts my head brisk fully
I know in my heart, me and my family
Will go on serving him faithfully
But deep in my heart I can’t help but see
The pain of loosing that one, once, Grand tree.
there you stand in my garden
looking at us all
waving with the wind
protecting us all
giving us food each year
staring at the the garden
the top of the garden is where you rest
providing a home for others to lie
there you stand
the pear tree