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Life Tree Poems | Life Poems About Tree

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

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Details | Free verse | |

THE OLD OAK TREE


         Oh I am but a simple leaf
         withering within the gutter
         one summer of bliss
         now! Just an autumn flutter.

                   For some; destine to fall
                   upon stony ground, a part
                   of life’s infernal gyration.
                   Yet for those that fall
                   within your reach, to live
                   on within your soul!

         While limbs that stretch
         towards the solstice, create
         vivacious veins as channels of hope,
         a pledge of foliation continues
         to endure what spring has
         furnished; autumn expires. 

                   Yes! If we can but learn
                   from nature’s complex simplicity,
                   that life be of a cycle
                   from the seed we are conceived,
                   then let spring be my beginning
                   winter my exultant eve!

         Let our two cultures
         merge as one, the
         decomposed humus
         to become the sustenance;
         our transfusion the
         new beginning.

                   Let us breathe the
                   fragrance of born again;
                   let each slender limb,
                   stout body bear our
                   tenaciousness, each lyrical
                   leaf our life’s blood.

          Let us mollycoddle each
          precious tear that falls from a
          angry sky; dance gracefully
          upon the wind, embrace
          on moonless nights, bathe
           in summer madness.

                   Let us hear the bluebell call,
                   the daffodil pray, the apple
                   blossom bear witness; the
                   clamour of the field mouse
                   the pitapat of the butterfly
                   the silence of lovers in love.

             Let us be sanctuary to the
             symbolic songstress, scuttling
             squirrel, vulgar urchin;
             a fortress for the warrior
             a haven for the pacifist
             an inspiration for the poet!

 EPILOGUE 

                  The call of springtime
                   we will invoke,
                     logging representative
                      we will gladly choke;
                        nature’s guardian.
                          “This! Obliging old oak.”

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2000


        

         







Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Concrete | |

The Eternal Tree

I am Alive    Forever and always         Essence        Rebirth        Renewal
          I have earth to ground me      I have wind to move me   I have fire to cleanse         
     my     spirit        I have rain      to quench    my thirst    for growth
                      I have sun to    enlighten me        feed me  I am my own mother
              and an extension of the whole     I am   Earth         wind
                       rain   sun  fire    I am as old as life  and I am     as young
   as time   I am shelter to those who seek me   I am a bird  a flower and  the breath
              of the earth itself        I am exactly where I want to be     I am life
       I am first and last  the beginning and the end   I am one from many
                        I am what I am   I live  I grow  and I die. I am  Reborn unto myself
                                                          I am the great circle                   
                                                           My limbs know no                          
                                                           Boundaries; while                            
                                                           My leaves whisper                      
                                                           The one truth of the                      
                                                           Whole  through the           
                                                           Seasons changing
                                                            Colors that I wear 
                                                            Upon my   heart's                  
                                                            Sleeve, I'm home
                                                           To Earth Mother’s
                                                           Melodious  Life; I
                                                           Sing for the whole
                                                         World to hear - trees
                                                       Are Earth Mother's Song
                                                       Blowing 'round the leafy            
                                                  Globe; eyes of the world song 
    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Of the Mother   breath of the living   soul of the earth }}}}}}}}}}}}




***Senses evoked here are: Touching, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling and Seeing
***Elements evoked are: Water, Wind, Earth Metal, and Fire

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2008

Details | Crystalline | |

Seeing Autumn's oak adorn

Painting sky before I was born,
Draping my grave in leaf and acorn.

----------------------------
Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
11.22.14

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haibun | |

where barren branches touch newborn leaves

Scurrying on my way home, a little leaf catches my eye, and I am compelled yet again to slow down.

a whirlwind of thoughts
compete with swaying of trees~
lone leaf on my shoe

I am not sure exactly when my fascination for falling leaves started, there is just something so beautiful and artistic in which they drift to the ground....I recall one particular moment in my college literature class when my professor inquired into my choice of the word "wither" in my leaf metaphor for a dying old couple. 

My explanation involved telling him that for me, that particular word had a certain gracefulness to it, and that was how I saw that couple in their twilight years. But I deviate, for I merely intend to write about the interesting tree that I saw the other day. I do not know what species it is, but it bears its berry-like fruits on its branches and it has cordate leaves.

barren branches touch
newborn leaves on other side--
a paradox tree

A smile languidly forms together with my memory of seeing that same tree six days post double-faced state. It proudly donned a full crown of leaves in less than a week. With this image in mind, I can’t help but feel mystified, with the constancy and dichotomy of change….It seems like everything around me is continuously evolving, revolving. I can’t help but feel lost.

Almost in defiance to this line of thinking, I shake the leaf off my shoe, and trample on it. Instead of feeling satisfied, I feel guilt. I never did forget that Enid Blyton tale of how dried leaves were actually fairies. 

littered autumn road
I stomp on the frail fallen….
my feet crushing death

Rolling my eyes with my melodramatic thoughts, I continue my walk home. It’s crazy how leaves can make me go philoloopysical. I am tempted to actually stop in the middle of the road and simply sit there—be among the trees as the wind serenades them, with the leaves swaying gently, some choosing to pirouette, some doing the salsa dip.  

Being the practical person that I am, I just run my fingers along my wind-discoed hair. If it were possible, I would like to be a leaf. I find such nobility and grace to it. Imagine being able to capture light, transforming energy to create nourishment. Giving, breathing life. There is a delicate artistry with the changing of its colors—a complex, fascinating chemistry in each blade that I’m sure God is so proud of.

eyes gently follow
  dying trail of withered leaf;
wind sighs its mourning


I pick up one leaf to remind me...

11202015

Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

Probabilities

Probabilities

fallen fruit exists
earthen harvest and ground meet
jars in the pantry

Robert J. Lindley ,07-24-2014

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad | |

Oak Tree

     the Oak  Tree

You were always someone special
In the midnight hours in my dream
I could really feel the tension
A tree, a limb, a friend
No matter how hard life came at me
There you stood perfectly
Letting me lean up against your stand
I will never forget the day you swayed the first hi 
I talked as if you were hearing
A tree, a piece of wood in my path
A punching bag
My Oak Tree you will always be

One day in my sorrowed life 
I stopped by just to reminisce 
Your beauty, I find so divine
Your leaves took me backwards
I fell in love with your soul all over again
With a beauty, I find so divine 
Hope you will always be there my friend
Indulging the felling you transcend 
A cold spot never found in you
Re-breathing your surround, no need to make a sound
The power you have when you make my heart mend
My Oak Tree you will always be my friend

In the lowest day of my life
I went on a secret walk to look for comfort
The beauty of you is no longer there
Walking around with an extra deep pain of hurt
Not sure how one could bare such a loss
Dropping myself to my Knees upon the dirt
An empty spot is the only thing there
My friend I thought you would always be there 
How can they take you away from this world?
A lonely field
No root, no seed
Loneliness no one to lean up against
You will no longer be there
How could they cut down, my friend?
My friend the Oak Tree.

Where are your seeds?

By;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

I STAND TALL LIKE A BAMBOO TREE


I stand tall like a bamboo tree,
Strong winds make my body to sway,
Storm makes me blown away,
But I still stand like a bamboo tree.

Trials, problems that I faced everyday,
I have the strength to pursue it anyway,
The dreams that I have in mind,
Though it’s simple but it's one of a kind.

Insults, negative people may put me down,
On my head, I still have my precious  crown,
God gave me the courage to be strong,
Like a bamboo tree it sways bravely.

I stand tall and firm with my decision, 
To be successful because of my determination,
No one can destroy my aim in life, I tell you my friend,
Like a bamboo tree I survived, I can till the end.




September 16, 2012
5th Place
For Nathan's "Any Poem #3" Contest

Copyright © Maria Paz Samelo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dodoitsu | |

The Brown Tree

All the nuts fell to the ground
The sane ones on branches hang
Long line from many countries
My family tree

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ottava rima | |

The Morning Mist

The morning's mists
mix with the
woodland's scent
To fill me with such
wondrous happiness;
I see her wet but
gentle hands are
bent
And reaching out to
touch with
loveliness
The trees, and fills
my heart with
wonderment
At how her fingers
curl with
curiousness
To stroke the ragged
faces of the rocks,
Or run her dewy
fingers through the
phlox. 



{Written by Isaiah
Zerbst for the
poetry contest
"Through the Mist"
on the 20th of
August, 2014.}

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Wisdom Tree

A solitary man
Makes his way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life he knows further and further behind
He wishes to be alone
Away from the busyness 
The noise
Responsibility
Activity 
Work that is never done
Conflict
The need to be right
He reaches the top
Sits down crosses his legs
He looks out at the landscape
His village a small mass of thatched roofs
People unseeable
Smoke rises from a central fire
The lake so small it can fit into a wooden spoon
The horizon surrounds him
He feels the pebbles beneath him
Blades of grass are myopically large
He watches an ant toil
Are their lives not the same?
Seasons change
Summer to fall winter to spring
He witnesses it all
His beard has lengthened his mind enlarged
Secrets have been revealed
Disconnected yet part of all
Growing into the ground
Others come to the mountain top
Seeking his wisdom
They sit with him for a while
They never stay long
Each take so that they may give
The wise man transformed
Arms outstretched reaching to all the horizons
Now covered with leaves
The seasons continue to change
He sends his leaves down to the village
Beckoning them to the mountain
Not wanting to be alone
"Come sit beneath my branches
caress my bark smell my scent
know my soul."
He no longer is able to speak
All that he knows resides in the rings of his seasons
Still he offers wisdom
Put your ear to his trunk
You can still hear his heart beat
His breath whistles through the leaves
His seeds cover your woolen coat
You are a solitary man
making your way down the mountain
One step at a time
Closer and closer to your village
To the ones you love
As you walk through the village you shake your coat
Seeds fall on the fertile ground
The wise man has come home


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cinquain | |

Tree Tunnel-Visual One

One road.
Tunnel of time.
Yesterday falls away.
Forgive, forget, find your freedom.
Move on.



For Contest: An American Beauty
Prompt: Visual One
Date: January 10. 2015
syllable count 2,4,6,8,2

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 9 Life

lodgepoles pines fall 
dead, beetle attack, new life
emerges -- aspens

Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Nursery Rhyme - The Hunkydory Bear

I will tell a funny story of a bear that's hunkydory
How 'e lives a life of comfort in a pickle on a tree
When the summer comes 'e fishes, an' 'e eats 'em off o' dishes
Till the day 'e ran in 'orror from 'is shadow on the sea

So 'e trundled of gallumphing, till 'e couldn't run for 'uffing
And 'e settled down in Puddington where honeyed puddings grow
There 'e lived a life so royal, till his dream began to spoil
For 'e longed to have a mamma bear with cubby bears in tow

'E trotted to the pickle-tree, that shady spot beside the sea
An' asked about if any knew his fav'rite childhood chum
'Is special bear at last 'e found, and knelt upon the berry-ground
An' there besought if she would be a wifey bear and mum

A mummey bear she'd gladly be, she'd mend 'is clothes and make 'is tea
And have as many fuzzy bairns as God saw fit to bless
So off they went to Pudding Town, the bear and wife, now Mrs. Brown
Which place they 'ad their little bairns, and lived in 'appiness


First place in Nursery Rhyme contest.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle | |

Initials on a Tree

I sign your initials on an old tree And surround it with a heart of desire I want the world out there to come and see The world needs to see our heart completely That’s been put on this tree with love and fire I sign your initials on an old tree People want to view this tree tenderly It’s not like the tree sits on any mire I want the world out there to come and see Heart is formed with love eventually The tree should never be placed on a pyre I sign your initials on an old tree Formed are letters of our names perfectly All the letters put on smoothly not dire I want the world out there to come and see The world can see our kind heart lovingly Our love together shall never expire I sign your initials on an old tree I want the world out there to come and see
Russell Sivey Entered into Anne Currin's "Anne's Favorite Poetry Form: Villanelle! (Any Subject)" contest 3/24/2013

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Personification | |

THE HUMBLE CATHEDRAL

THE HUMBLE CATHEDRAL In the glaring eyes of the sun dressed thin in lush green moss, my shady sky-high trunk compeer dark brown wrinkled arms spreading free my slender fingers of verdant hue. They swing, swing in quiet seesaws attune to the cradling light of July breeze. Pleased and appeased, I puff and puff: oxygen dancing slow with other gas. The blowing winds from the east, The heaven tears cascading down, they bathe and cleansed me but! They too disturb causing murmurs and rustles during my deep sleep... Fall approaches, smell of despair hangs, it pose danger making my leaves sad. I began to weep as they slowly tumble, tumbling below, leaving me naked. Facing later the harsh bites of cold, my arms turned brittle from right to left, hearing them creak and break. Thankfully, my feet safe beneath the ground. I stood firm together with my friends, unafraid of the ice but so scared of humans carrying a sharp ax. ______________________________________ ==Contest Name: TREES PERSONIFIED== =Contest Sponsor: Charlotte Pudifoot= ~~4th Place~~ 9:32 pm, August 26, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Tree of Life

The tree of life grows limbs above,
Its strength began in roots of love...
Each limb's branches may grow apart
Yet venture not far from its heart.

Concentric circles share great worth
In trials it has endured since birth,
Having weathered many a storm
Defined by bent or twisted form.

Still beauty reigns throughout the years
In steadfast growth with hopes and fears,
As earthlife seasons come and go
A will to carry on and know,

Though treasured limbs may break and die,
Newest growth reaches for the sky.
Seedlings will spread, divine and free...
In honor of the mother tree.

© Connie Marcum Wong



Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

ENTWINED


On another impoverished evening so strangely bleak, the moon weeps for more burning her soul must retain, And she clings like a stem to the tree of life that frozen eyes grasp coiled branches, weighing down on howls of raven’s play. Just now … crisscrossed sky lanterns fog the walls of a withering foliage, like hushed matte from dusk’s greenery Pouring balm on a requiem in need of shade, while in her veins drip… a constant gush as meshed twigs still interlace on leafy ribs Immersed in the ardor of their moments, one fragrant orchid and musky trunk…inseparable, bound together by affectionate, yet lost stars. With slight acceptance this rooted love will always meld despite tree of life faintly drooping; ...in clinched angle, she lays on his buried grass until dim twilight shuts off. For Broken Wing’s Entwined Contest 2/12/2016

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Tree of Life

Yggdrasil tree of wisdom; tree of secrets and tree of strife; eat her fruit, the mind will grow; all her secrets, she will show. Her tentacles, like gray brain matter; give knowledge that all life, will shatter. In right hands, this world, will grow; in wrong hands, destruction flows. Take great heed of what you do; this world is left, to me and you.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ekphrasis | |

Dorsiventrally Flattened Leaf

From once lush green, vibrantly alive This dorsiventrally flattened leaf never dies It's fragility, nursed to allow ~ Such patience from the artist abounds By blade and pin such creativity thralls Again, it's decaying membranes reach out and touch From the tree of life, this leaf lives on . Written about the craftsmanship of Omid Asadi whom creates amazing Art from leaves.

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

The tree of life

A lonely tree stands in a field
Branches entwined in one
And as those branches come to life
They reach up to the sun

This tree with all it's energy
just like a woman so it be
It's branches swaying in the breeze
just like a mother's offspring, these

And so the lonely tree does age
The human kind out living
But we all end up just the same
Our flesh to earth be giving

And thus our lives all end the same
No matter what we be
Some have long lives, some much less
In life's sweet mystery

Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

"Evil Twin"

"Spiritual Narrative"

After life began,  appeared “Evil Twin” mind’s obvious sin
‘Evil’  naught of nothing, using the power of love’s “something”
Giving rise to evil self, far to left, image of self
Love created, but mind deviated, it’s love abated

Love’s logic created Soul, but I am so bold, left heart’s gold
Lost in a wilderness mind, became the Soul of evil twin
Lost in it’s philosophies, mind’s logic of complexities
Has philosophically debated, Love that created

Saying, ‘how can this Love be the reality of me
I shall exalt above, this creation of heaven’s Love’
But crucifixion of mind regains Love’s self in time
As the mind is refined, Soul is re-aligned, with Love’s vine

Man’s discoveries, pieces of the recoveries, of true self
As pieces of the mind crucified, must learn to abide
From Love light’s truth  cannot hide, reality has not lied
Being one with reality, God true technicality
 
Evil self is naught, except, in a mind of worldly thoughts
Live of your mind if your will, create life’s bitter pill
Your bitter pill will not spill, into Sacred Heart’s will
This proverb is proverbial,  `Tis non swerve able

Within one’s love, one must abide, for on death’s cross it was tried
Also mind must abide, for on the cross was proven it lied
Death and life was set before, human mind to explore
To show evil twin, death’s sin, just no way for death to win

Make a tree good or make a tree evil, for is by man’s choice
Lie on God if your will,   lie `Tis your own bitter pill’
`Tis by your own choice, by your own voice, `Good or Evil’
Death failed, life’s tree stands still, on yonder hill, alive and well

12-25-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

POE IN TREE

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

Copyright © Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

Is it Just me

Sometimes I don't know, is it just me Why am I standing, when I should be in the trees Sometimes I don't know if it's right for doing wrong It appears that I'm singing a totally different song Sometimes like in my past, is it just me Maybe I'd be happier, back amongst the leaves .

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Love Is Who You Are ( NOT, Just Something You Do ) Part 2

The mind has become a problem,
This ghost and goblin,
Throughout Love’s land!

The mind’s imagination, 
Took over,
Love’s invitation,
By a tree of divided information!
It’s like, being love,
But having a relation,
With life and death information!

There was a tree of strife,
Placed in the midst of love’s life,
For purpose of decision,
That caused the house of division!

But a decision was given, to twiddle dee,
For love you see,
Is what the mind’s twiddle dee, be!
But he must see,
By experience, what is best to be,
For the sot has forgotten,
His beloved soul with his cotton,
Love’s seed of the begotten!

For, for the mind to be,
He must truly see,
The love he be!
For love already knows,
As the mind only blows,
What love’s life is yet to learn!
For love created the life,
That mind turned to strife!

With mind being only a part to life,
Let no man deceive you with vain words,
The old man needs a good purge,
Then his life would surge,
With a holy urge,
to be the love of his life,
Not a goblin of strife!

We are love,
From the inside,
What mind tries to hide,
On the outside!

God the I am is love,
From above,
The same as I am inside,
My, I am is love!
But what I be,
Sometimes is twiddle dee,
Of the mind on the outside,
The real me, I try to hid!
Like Adam and Eve,
With the fig leaves!

We must learn to confide,
On the inside,
By the outside,
To be the love that we are,
From the inside,
Outside!
johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2009

Details | I do not know? | |

felled tree


Dear swollen-trunk maple, deemed 
diseased by the saw-happy tree guy, 
you who have stood silently, supposedly 
slipping your ailment through your roots 
to the neighboring trees, now fallen 
full blast down, geometrically down, 
right angle, then parallel at last, your flat-
sawn stump blotched with incriminating 
evidence—you came and leafed 
and are gone, and I who have grown old 
in your lifetime, who intuited you rather 
than knew you, felt you in my bones, 
now feel the slightly thinner woods, 
the hint of frailty. Scott the tree guy 
has carried your eighteen-inch logs in his 
red wheelbarrow and stacked them 
for winter: a little Williams, a little Frost. 
   Oh tree, everywhere I look 
I have to pledge reclamation, fill 
the forest floor with ferns, mushrooms, 
pine needles, and in the side corner 
place the outhouse, practically unused 
anymore, still in good shape, emitting 
its rich human-waste smell, its wood 
smell, its few spiders climbing 
their trellises with their sticky feet. 
Oh tree, so much has been discovered 
to fill in the space where you were: 
seven new species of Philippine 
forest mice, a new genus of blind 
Bulgarian beetle, four new species 
of jewel beetles, six of New World 
micromoths. I have filled my note cards, 
I have left the vertical space open 
for the Ur-tree, the canonical vision 
that will take your place, even the stigmata, 
your bulged and arthritic joints, the 
whither of your leaving, the grand word 
whither standing where you were.

Copyright © alycia Gleeson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse | |

One Liners III - Family Tree


As I climb my family tree, each distinct leaf touches me with life's beauty.

(written 12/7/15 for Silent One's One Liners Three Contest)

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

The tree and the trigger

When you pulled the trigger
you came to me and tried to love me
ask my forgiveness,
it made me cry, it was so cold
I shook with your suffering
I drew you in the afterlife
alone and crying with gods light
asking you to come
Your remorse, 
your shame, a mistake,
you had so much to give
i painted two trees
one that was dying
the other was dead
the tree loved you
amd misses you still

Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

A Tree for Life


     Have you ever really looked at a tree?
     Have you ever thought of the ancient roots,
     Those that support it ... to behold its majesty?
     The boughs and limbs carry leaves oh, so green,
     We are again reminded of God's handiwork,
     When we see the budding exuberance ... come the early spring.
      They make us mindful of beauty by their quiet repose,
      They are willowy, and shade us from the harsh summer sun,
      Beneath their gentle sways ... we rest comfortably below.
      Fall ages them and their greens turn to brown.
      As winter's cold blasts blow upon them,
      Do we ever feel their plight ... as their leaves tumble down?
      
      Families are a personal and spiritual tree.
      Their ancient roots so long ago planted, 
      Grow in size and shape and form ... in gifted majesty!
      Generations of limbs and boughs support the child leaves, 
      In every new face God's handiwork,
      Radiant in the splendor of life ... each one of us receives.
      Time slowly ages each one to their own event,
      While we who remain here grow and love,
      Still remembering those whose winter ... we could not prevent.
      It is the strength of their memories we add to our own,
      They give us the values, insights, and perspective,
      Which we in turn pass on ... to the seeds we have sown.

Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sonnet | |

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge of purple rests within my tired heart
Soft touches of a heavy old soul
Now pulling on my heavy empty cart
Often my world seems to be lumps of coal.

I heard thumps of acorns falling on down
That majestic oak sheds its little seeds
Old age has me feeling like a sad clown
Longing to ride again, runaway steeds

Tis winter! Culprit bringing its bleak cold
Seeds resting secure in the frozen ground
Spring will come and they rise out very bold
Yet again life comes right on around

Nature teaches us, all will be alright
Life and death matches just like day and night

Robert J. Lindley, 1-26-2016

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	107

NOTES: 
 1. My muse woke me at 4 am to write this.
I told her no but she nagged until I rose to
do the deed. I' tell ya , I want to strangle her
sometimes but then at other times love her to
death..
 2. The immediate repetition of the word "heavy" in verses two and three is intentional and used for effect, as both the old soul and its life's burdens are now currently found to be very heavy to bear. Poet's prerogative , norms be damned says I. 



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016