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Quatrain Tree Poems | Quatrain Poems About Tree

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

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A Christmas Snow

It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.

I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.

Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.

Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.

My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.

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Memories On Branches

An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.

Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.

On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.

Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.

March, 7th, 2014

Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"

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Moonlight Madness

Sitting alone in the light of the moon
Twirling my glass of red wine
I retreated back into my cocoon
But still felt a chill up my spine

Something flew by in front of the moon
With a silhouette of a wide wing span
Its feathers flapped slow as it sang a tune
Its wings spread out in a fan

Then off he went out into the night
A raptor soaring in flight
The environment alive in the moonlight
Was an awesome yet fearful sight

The quiet stillness of the midnight air
Was a mystically charged atmosphere 
With all my senses alive and aware
I wondered what next would appear

The skeletal branches of a tree
Looked grim in the luminous glow
A leaf came loose and floated free
To the leaf carpeted lawn below

I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep
And dreamed of a forest of trees
And beyond the entrance further in deep
The temperature dropped thirty degrees

I snapped awake then in a flash
With a feeling of foreboding
And didn't really want to rehash
The message too obscure for decoding

I awoke to see in front of me
The same old leaf shedding tree
I thought I heard it speak to me
But honestly, how could that be?

I noticed the tree appeared forlorn
My thoughts were definitely wild
For it was only a honey locust thorn
What some people often reviled

I turned in for the evening after that
Then heard a light tapping on the pane
I saw it wasn't my Maine Coon cat
That’s when I went totally insane

A limb of that tree pointed towards me
Like a finger of a human hand
No more wine but Sleepy time tea
For me, I'm sure you understand

September 20, 2012


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Butterflies and Honey Bees

In the meadow, weeds flowering
By a cluster of old shade trees
Make a lovely scene attracting
Some butterflies and honey bees

Butterflies sipping each flower
Flit happily from bloom to bloom
Flaunting their wings of gossamer
Giving each other lots of room

Several colours of the rainbow
Painted on their gossamer wings
Put on a brilliant colour show
Such a happy feeling it brings

Bees also join in the feasting
Imbibing each flower's nectar
Doing so with joyful humming
In their role as honey maker

Weed flowers are in Nature's brood
Springing up where ever they please
They assist in providing food
For butterflies and honey bees

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The tigress' mark

She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.

The ominous reflection of moon 
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.

Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.

Her claws prophesy of vengeance 
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency 
for a soul's annihilation. 

Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.

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Dancing Trees

Rocking and swaying in the breeze Tree branches are dancing with glee Such playful action of the trees So joyous, unfettered and free Leaves are all rustling and sighing With a sound like waves of the sea Like a crescendo that rising And then subsiding gradually Leaves that fell to the grass below Perform their dancing in the air The breeze tosses them to and fro Making the show a grand affair The sun is shining in the sky Bathing everything in its light I'm feeling such a glorious high Gazing at this beautiful sight

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The Innocence of Youth

To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature,
embracing truth as only reflection can hold.
While our mind concocts fastidious pleasure,
in search of mottled excuses bent to unfold.

Some threaten openly, words of censure,
hurled against the family tree displayed therein.
Yet which innocent, casts with stoic composure,
a stone of malicious word for the game to begin.

While the tree of life muddles fate in quiet solitude.
Its restless soul begging for optimistic pleasure,
It thinks its time before the mirror, but an interlude,
when in fact, the angel Gabriel takes his measure.

Only the tree of knowledge, cannot be maligned.
Within the face of it, read this significant truth.
From a reflection, the soul of man, you will not find,
only the sweet, sweet face, of innocence of youth.

© Apr 17 2011 Charles Henderson 
for Constance "the tree" contest
a family tree, tree of life, tree of knowledge

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Beauty In Imperfection

The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts

We know that a star-shaped flower 
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder

A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly

An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness

Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination

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O Christmas Tree

'Tis that time again to bedeck the tree with decorations!

   Untangling the string of lights is one of my annual frustrations!

      Naughty words are said but when all is said and done, you'll,

         Happily declare that sans a Christmas tree it wouldn't be a Yule!

Placed No. 9 in Kim Merryman's "Here We Go A Caroling" Contest - January 2013

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Majestic Enormous Tree

Majestic is the large enormous tree Limbs coming out from all sides of the trunk An aura of it being more than all Tree sure hasn’t lowered nor has it sunk The tree stands always high into the air Strong is the stature of this awesome tree Power is expected throughout this plant Oversized is this mighty tree’s glory Branches extend from the center of it Growing ever so slightly it goes up The highest point is extremely gorgeous It offers peace like a cocoa filled cup Majestic is the large enormous tree Delightful it is to see its great might It has aura of perfection inside No other tree is as good of a sight Russell Sivey

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The Tin Bath Childhood Memory

..~~Childhood Memory~~.. None of us could swim, from the river we were banned Not allowed near the water without an adult holding a hand When the adults were busy we went to play Of course to the river our thoughts oft did stray. A tin bath we found much to our delight It would make a good boat so try it we might. We were not allowed swimsuits as none of us could swim So it was down to our birthday suits then we jumped in. We took it in turns to sail in the bath We didn’t think then of our parent’s fears or wrath My brother decided a new game to play Who could capsize the bath best - and still get away? What fun playing in the hours of illicit gaming. Capsizing and spitting out water with no complaining. All went well until I tipped the bath near the drinking tree root They sucked up and grabbed the bath for a hoot. I turned the bath over and fell from inside The tree roots clawed at me from the surface trying to hide The fingers of the tree reached for me, holding and pinning me tight The air from my lungs all gone - I never thought I would see the light. A gasp as air rushed in, I could breath, I could see And there were my friends and siblings all clapping at me I had put on a good "act" of drowning they said I had not the heart to tell them I thought I was dead. We rubbed ourselves down with our clothes and dressed quick All crossing our hearts, we would never tell our trick I remember so well the dark grasping water back then I learnt to swim quick before I went there again.

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The tree stood stark and lonely,
All naked in the cold.
Her branches bare, her lovely leaves,
The breath of Winter stole.

In spite of all she stood yet proud,
Her branches raised to Heaven,
A silent prayer in her heart,
For Winter's sleep to lessen,

The pain she felt amid the cold,
The biting wind so cruel,
And please let not some human come,
And use her wood for fuel.

Then the winter queen looked down,
On Tree with sympathy,
And gave to her a lovely gown,
Of snow in symmetry.

Now the tree stands all adorned,
In glowing winter grandeur,
And all who see her stand in awe,
Of Tree in Winter's splendor.

Thanks to Phyllis Babcock for her poem "TREE" which inspired this one.

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Where The Wind Blows

You shelter me from the Autumn sunlight You’re a mighty oak of tranquility Peacefulness expounds from your colored leaves The feel of Autumn is seen tenderly Through this awesome oak I hold my head high Where the wind blows your leaves move on along Supremacy runs through its hardened veins Where the wind blows nothing seems to be wrong Within the air are red and orange leaves Enhanced colors bring pleasurable days The sky is in a mauve great expression Lending right to the breeze a lovely haze The air moves across the oak tree swaying Seeming to just play with the sky above This breeze enlightens from where the wind blows The wind gives the tree an almighty shove In bewilderment I watch the leaves move Right along across the yard before me They tumble on top of one another It is where the wind blows that makes me free
Russell Sivey Contest: Where The Wind Blows Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle 5/16/2013

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Leaves That Are Green

A young bud sprouts from its parent plant
and blossoms to a lovely rose before long
With time, its beauty fades and it dries up
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A young sapling takes root and flourishes
Soon a mighty oak stands firm on the ground
With time, it decays to a dried up old tree
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A baby bird sitting helplessly in its nest
grows into a majestic eagle strong
With time, its glory fades as it ages
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A defenceless lion cub hidden in its lair
matures into the mightiest beast around
With time, he becomes a decrepit old male
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A beautiful angelic darling baby girl
becomes a world beauty and wins the crown
With time, wrinkles and old age take their toll
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

Hello to a new life of hope and promise
Goodbye to a life that's now going down
Time marches on irreversibly 
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

All life starts off fresh and beautiful, matures, decays and then passes away in an unavoidable cycle as Time marches on irreversibly.

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In Heartwood Forrest

Subtle comes the mourning
In light laced with night
Like concentric circles forming
In the Forrest's biography of life

For children grow in truth like trees
It's lesson is wisdom's offering
Spiral layer of night and day
Concealed an annual weathering

In heartwood forest you were raised
By its protection you survived
Though it is dead this central wood
At your core does it reside

Tiny saplings like newborn cries
Sunlight tapping your tender leaves
Tears turned sugar transformed you thrive
For the sweet lifeblood you need

When something dies it's natural
Of sorrow to be prone
I'll follow the path of your tears your anchor
Through the storm I'll not leave you alone

For I am your taproot in rocky soil
I'll hold you secure as you grow
Take your tears and turn them sugar
Photosynthesis of life to bestow

Your Daddy was your heartwood
I know you mourn at his stone
Though Mommies leaves dawn new colors
I'll teach you to grow your own 

For when he died your sapwood 
With tears like resin filled
For from his bedded seed you came
A new tree with heartwood instilled

Under my branches my son you are planted
And Daddy's new home is our sky
Together we will shade you and light your way
Stretching my roots to hold yours while you cry

Someday when life's rings they gather
Hidden under your fortress of bark
You'll know the storms I too have weathered 
In this silent breaking of my heart

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The Tree Speaks

Long ago I stood beneath a shady limb And cried out, so heavy was my heart Wondering if I had chosen wisely Fear and uncertainty tearing me apart It spoke to me in the rustling leaves Stories of all the things that it had seen How the years had honed its truths The good, bad and the in-between There was music in the swaying branch There, cradled in a its peaceful grace Came a quiet acceptance of life's path And I wept in nature's sweet embrace...

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In the Frozen Air

The cold air reaches the frigid bottom Freezing the hillside completely on through There’s nothing that you can do to stop it So frozen the trees start to snap in two Ice forms on many trees that are intact So cold the trees look so poor and distraught Landscape is so littered with snowy trees They look as if they’re frozen a whole lot There’s risk that they could fall at any time On a hillside that sure isn’t good news An avalanche could form from its falling Rolling down into town and right on through It’s so cold there’s a chance this could happen Trees have fallen with little more than this I would take heed and go around this hill And wait until this cold snap surely lifts
Russell Sivey

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Be like a Tree

If men would but stand fast like a tree
Though fierce winds blow and rains fall
Bending and dipping but not breaking at all
You will stand in quiet majesty, tall and free

When conditions grow harsh with disfavor
Stand strong, proud and unwavering in faith
The tides will turn though it may come late
It will crown you with laurels of honor

When seasons turn favorable spread your arms
May your fruits give the motherless food and hope
May your shade give the homeless reason to cope
Then the world will flock to bask in your novel charm

When all that is you is rooted good and deep
No storm can reach the rich dreams you keep.

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October Fire

Dancing smoke
black as night
floats above flames
burning bright
twisting wind
spreads the fire
fueling life
to dark desire
the nights are dark
with moonless skies
shadows see all
with empty eyes
fallen leaves 
make trees bare
the flame still burns
but the heats not there
blazing touch
meets hearts of frost
the burn feels sweet 
but then it's lost
now hands of ash 
reach out once more 
for October Fire
as they did before

By Morgan Mise
Written April 25, 2012

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Magic Beans

Wow, it happened at a moment when I was most lonely
I walked all alone in the woods, feeling so sorry
Sorry to see around me, so much of blindness
So much of desire for the unnecessary

When, oh how lovely
I felt like I had been blessed
A pouch it was, a pouch of magic beans
Glistening, glowing, sparkling in the dark woods

Was I dreaming, did I wonder
Could it surely be true, that which I see now
Magic beans?
Of what use would they be anyhow

Surely the story of Jack and the giants could not be true
Why would anyone fall for this kind of joke
But I did take the beans home
Slept and dreamed of the other kingdom

While all that time, my dog fooled around
So much that a few beans fell on the ground
Rolled out of the house
And got buried deep in the soil

The next morning, I did see a gigantic tree
One just like in the magical story
Wasted I not one second
I climbed up, eager to see what does lie beyond

I climbed for ages, my arms got worn out
Tired, ready to let go, I did put on a pout
Thirsty, hungry, I thought I would die
Lamenting at my own fate, I started to cry

When at that moment, came to my aid
Caring and loving robots
They put me in their vehicle
And took me up, there, in the world worthy of being a miracle

Would you believe it, 
I was given such a treat
I was pampered
Fed and my body repaired

A lovely world it was, filled with clean air
No smoke, no pollution, no death
Robots lived on, being their own masters
Robots who cared not to conquer our world

A peaceful world, with no work required
Life consisted of rest, play and food
Life there was I had always desired
Life there was so good

Flowers filled up every nook and crook
Clear rivers flowed by
Robots did show me how to have fun
It was a world I did fall in love with

I was brought to the King of them all
He did ask me to stay in his world
A guest I was, a most loving one
I was to be well entertained

His offer I did accept
The magical tree I did break
With some cuts here and there
As better it is to breathe in fresh air

The world known as Earth I soon forgot
I lived on, till came my end
My soul was taken and put in a robot
And I lived there, forever and ever!

Anoucheka Gangabissoon
7th January 2015

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In Defense Of The Rain

Some folks like to complain
And are very fickle
They fume when rain is falling
And fret at a mere drizzle

Wild birds and animals
They all need the rain
Which gives them water
For their lives to sustain

The plants and the trees
And all the lovely flowers
For them to grow and flourish
They also need the showers

The food crops that are grown
To provide food for us all
Each of them would perish
If the rain did not fall

So please think of these things
Before you start complaining
And creating a lot of fuss
The next time rain is falling

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Queen of Autumn Splendor

She stands there all summer
in everyday ordinary green,
but amid autumn's bouquet
she wears a lustrous sheen.

Her gown is splendiferous,
she's the queen of them all,
transformed like Cinderella
'gussied up' for the ball.

Glowing flaxen and scarlet,
all who view her agree,
there's nothing more radiant
than the sugar maple tree.

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In Perfect Harmony

The tree and the vine in perfect harmony
Growing together the way it should be
Their lives cross like veins of life
Yet they stay together through natures strife

In general they are, in the world we live
Although their are some who never forgive
They can suffocate, consume with a passion
Leave life so frail, grey to ashen

Then there are us humans, well what can I say
We are so like them in every way
Even we can live in harmony
Unlike the tree and the vine, more we should be

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Sitting by a moss-covered tree illuminated by sunlight at three,
he plays the very song that his anscestors played yesterday;
remembering what the peaceful and wild land was and will be...
by accepting the fact that his tomorrow is decided by destiny.

He can spend an entire afternoon playing a hand-made flute color chestnut,
as every breeze-lulled maple tree seem to vanish in the increasing, grey fog;
and if his music with shrilling, melodic notes is a devise to find his stranded dog,
he will have the best friend to guide him safely home through beams of twilight. 

Play, handsome warrior the melody you forefathers played on those efflorescent days
underneath the same oak tree to celebrate their free manhood;
and resembling them with long hair and piercing, dreaming eyes,
you don't expect that intruders from other lands would compromise your happiness.

Foxes, grizzly bears, coyotes and buffaloes hear your music and come around to peek:
they know that you wouldn't hurt them and they wonder who's the Great Spirit;
little they suspect that they will be hunted down by the new-comers from the East;
be their friend, warrior...promise them protection when they'll encounter the Beast. 

All that you behold today, may be gone tomorrow making you weep,
grasslands and prairies will tun into towns and cities to make way for greed;
and blood will flow abundantly on meadows where only wildflowers grew...
devastation everywhere with mother's screams by red rivers not so blue.

You must have had dreams of what was coming with a spectacle so gruesome,
take heart...your tomorrow is decided by destiny, pray that you won't be harmed;
continue playing your flute by remembering everything that you deeply loved,
and if you'll die fighting heartless men, I'll remember that look so lonesome.

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She was new to me on New Year’s Eve
Even when I felt my senses take their quickened and quiet leave
She had on high heeled purple patent leather shoes
And a patent pending on perfection
Until romance was reborn as rejection

Saliently I was sequestered to a semi- exclusive island
Where slaves to sensuousness succumb to seduction
With the introduction of infinitely instant infatuation for a fool
And desire that could only be quelled by the quietude that resides in her sigh
But for the lasciviousness that lay in her every lie

We begged the New Year begin with Louisiana, lakes, limericks and love
and, per chance, poetry provided by proverbial peacefulness
with cheery cherry blossoms budding beguilingly for only both of us
like the tree we sat under when wonder stole my eye
and I first heard you lie

falsehoods failed to forecast a future of fogginess
and a mistiness that hid amid a mystery
for you were an enigma…….
a duality 
with a persuasion to plurality
and conceived of by conviviality
you were a mercurial imp of imperfections personified
But what’s worse is that you so casually, callously and caustically lied

Oh yes, and the following New Year’s Eve 
I heard our apple blossom tree finally died
                                         © 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

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A Child's Christmas

Christmas should be a time of joy
For every little girl and boy
They gather 'round the Christmas tree
Little hearts beating eagerly

Their eyes closely scan each present
Wondering what Santa has sent
Some hope they have been good enough
And would get their requested stuff

Mum picks up each present gently
And reads to see whose it might be
A little heart leaps at its name
And then joyfully makes its claim

After presents are given out
Then it's time for another bout
It's time for presents' unwrapping
One can feel excitement growing

Tiny one still in diaper
Tries to peel off wrapping paper
Mum assists the eager beaver
Expectation growing stronger

Squeals of excitement fill the air
From the other kids gathered there
Their delight they cannot contain
Santa has delivered again

Once again thank you Dear Santa
Setting little hearts a-flutter
Making Christmas a time of joy
For every little girl and boy

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Weathered Wall

(A Salute to Robert Frost)

A fence of hand-hewn rock spans miles
of wind-swept road through fields of grain.
Uneven edge of rock, worn smooth
by storm’s hard breath of gust and rain

withstands the force which seeks to bend
or break a monument of time.
It hugs the earth and thumbs its nose
at energy so misaligned.

It boldly stands today as yore,
protects both wheat and corn for miles
and welcomes only human form
to walk beyond its stalwart stiles.

But flush against its weathered brow
there leans a heavy-laden tree
with pungent scent and rose-red glow,
forgotten apples hanging free

for horse or deer or bovine teeth
to reach across unyielding stone
and quench a thirst or hunger keen
with only crunch to thus intone.

May some always so hang, unpicked,
may much escape our stated plan
a fruit or such forgot and left,
to nibble sweetness with no blame.


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The Sturdy Oak

I loved to stand beneath the spreading oak,
Protected by a canopy of leaves.
Its branches strong, as were my lover's arms.
I'd yet to learn sometimes a look deceives.

We'd spread a picnic cover underneath
And have a lover's lunch while sitting there.
The massive tree protecting from the sun,
With love to keep me from all other care.

A strong wind blew, my precious oak came down.
I hadn't guessed 'twas hollow at the core.
And then my love, I thought I knew so well
Proved as unsound and now loves me no more.

The strength of both I thought would ever be,
My tree, my love, so empty there within.
I stand bereft, my helpless heart exposed,
Nor tree nor love will gain my trust again. 

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I saw a tree a-falling

I saw a tree a-falling
   a-falling down on me
I had no way to turn
   it was close on me

I thought it was a plot
   to force me out
I knew I could not
   even hold it or shout

It was a tree I sheltered
   on many a longing day
And now it was so altered
   coming to make me pay

I asked it why it longed
   to touch its upmost brim
When all around no foe
   turned the sun down dim

I touched its bark to hear
   I thought I heard a cry
Two leaves it shed on me
   and brushed its bark up high

I asked it why it stood
   alone and left to brood
It shook its sticks in emphasis
   as if to say it was good

© T. Wignesan - Paris, 1957 (from Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: Rayirath Publications, 1961.)

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A  storm  was threatening all week
The tree was a warning to see
The wind rocked our tree’s roots weak .
Not our best,   but son’s  favourite tree.

We’d  had a fall-out  about his girlfriend.
Not speaking,  we were anger-split.
But   wind picked up and we had to attend
To the weakness of his favourite.

With ropes and sturdy stakes  we fought
We got our bonds  tied rightly
My boy   climbed up  and pulled them taut
He tied our branches   tightly

From tree to tree,  some to ground.
His father  held the  straining  ropes
While he drove in the stakes around.
Staking everything on slimmest hopes

Furious wind   the night throughout
Tree  a-straining  our ties,  our knot.
Next morning  our  tree’d  fallen out 
From  weakened roots;  but  we had not .

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Possum in a Tree Holllow

Near the creek, there’s old dead tree We never had climbed before Big “J” decided he’d go up Not knowing what was in store He climbed up to the first big fork Sat in the crotch of the tree He yelled, “There’s a hollow up here, But it’s dark, I just can’t see” There’s a flashlight packed with my lunch I’ll get it and be right back As he sat and waited for me A sound came out of the crack Charlie, something alive in there I heard it making a noise Threw up the light, he give a look “A possum! Let’s get the boys” So exited we ran back home Called up the gang on the phone Most of them came right on over No need to do this alone Big “J” said, “We have all been told, Hit a possum on the head, He’ll roll up into a tight ball, And play possum, like he’s dead” We all agreed it would be fun To see a possum do that Someone said we need us a plan Big “J” said I’ve thought of that Charlie will go up in the tree And make the possum come out With sticks we’ll be under the tree He’ll get him a lick no doubt “Now just wait a minute”, I said “He’s in the hollow to stay” “I have an idea”, said Jim Bob “My Dad once told me a way” “The best way to get rabbits out If they are holed up somewhere Twist a forked wire in their fur Then just drag them out of there” I didn’t want to be the one Poking a wire in his fur But not to be called a chicken I’ll have to see out what occurs So I climbed up into the tree Holding a wire and flashlight Found a good spot, shined the light in What I saw gave me a fright The possum looking up at me Had his teeth bared as he hissed I stuck the forked wire into him Then gave it a great big twist Now is the time to pull him out I started to jerk real hard We didn’t know he could escape That was that possum’s wild card He came out, not from the hollow But from a hollow tree limb Landed behind all the guys That scared the hell out of them The possum was gone in a flash No one took off in a chase Just grinned and looked at each other We all had egg on our face

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Gone  the  winter of empty  arms ,  
Her  fresh  face  is  radiant  with charms.

In  the  church  garden   fair,
One glorious  May day near the ides  -
Blossom   on    gown,   hair,
Bosom  and  bouquet  -  the    bride’s

Glowing  in  the  warm  embrace
Of  her  golden groom.  She  flowers
With bloom on her cheeks and  face;
Then,  in  light   petalled  showers,

Blossom -confetti  litters and turns 
To white the  path through  her roots  unseen.
Then  the hawthorn  tree   returns   
Again  to  her everyday working green .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


The hawthorn tree in bloom in May is a beautiful sight, but lasts only a short time,  like
a wedding celebration.  Hawthorn trees are known as May trees, and they appear in the
proverb  “Cast ne’er a clout till May is out.”  Many people think this means you must 
keep wearing winter clothers till the end of the month of May,  but it really means until
the May tree’s blossom-flowers  are  out.

(Here  endeth the lesson.) 

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The front yard of my house in Tyler There stands twenty three, long needle pines A insect emerges from the ground And crawls up a tree in a straight line When growing up we called them locust But Cicada is the proper name Straight from the ground they are like big grubs These nymphs transform and don’t stay the same Climb up the tree from two to eight feet Their skin hardens, they push with all might Their back eventually splits open They emerge, dry their wings and take flight This can all happen while you’re asleep But you can see all their husks on the trees You know they’re there from the noise they make The males all seeking females to please Most of their life is spent in the ground When they take wing they live to just mate As nymphs they suck sap from the tree roots Mating done, eggs laid, death is their fate The eggs will hatch from the twigs and leaves Then before long they fall to the ground They’ll dig on down, attach to tree roots Their life cycle keeps going around

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Pruned the Root

In the silence of my mind...

stands the tree of reason...

Baring fruit, food for thought...

Pruned the root of understanding...

Tireless autumn leaves fall free...

Like flares of seasoned knowledge...

In the silence of my mind...

stands the tree of reason...

In pruned root...

...the seed I find...

In the silence of my mind...

...stands the tree of reason...

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Catalpa Worms

In East Texas, the Catalpa tree thrives A parasite eats its leaves to survive A Catalpa worm is black striped on green In the summer, they often strip the tree clean It’s a caterpillar when eating leaves It pupates in the ground I do believe When it emerges from where it did sink It’s a moth know as a “Catalpa Sphinx” Growing up, I called it “Catawba” worm Put one on a hook and just watch it squirm It’s known to be a “super” fishing bait I’ve used them and found they do work great They infest the tree several times a year But just Catalpa trees, let’s make that clear So prized for bait that people plant the trees As bait in winter, they’re OK to freeze Many times we used them on a trot line And for catching big catfish they worked fine They stay on the hook as their skins are tough And for catching pan fish they’re the right stuff If you’re a fisherman should try them And if they’re not local, still get the gem Check out the Internet they are “For Sale” Order them “live” or “frozen” through the mail

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One Leaf

Wind takes the first leaf
from a tree and it lets it fall.
Leaves that lie out on ground
and the tree cares not at all

for the loss of two or three
the branch sounds no alarm
plentiful are the leaves
their loss brings it no harm.

When the winter’s chill is gone
the stems will bud again?
Leafs will grow eternally 
trees never see their end.
I have wondered woods of green
through underbrush and leaves
and littered every where it seems
are trunks of old dead trees.