Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership




Tree Family Poems | Tree Poems About Family

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Narrative | |

TRIMMING THE CHRISTMAS TREE WITH FAMILY HEIRLOOMS

Oh sanguine

lost hopes

and 

dreams

each ornament renews

kisses, laughter, loved ones remembered
each ornament renews
victories, struggles, from bounty to barren
each ornament renews
cradle to grave, sweet memories rush back
each ornament renews
strength to survive, with loved ones near
each ornament renews

oh sanguine

fresh hopes

and

dreams

each ornament renewed 


james marshall goff

Copyright © James Marshall Goff

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

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

Details | Narrative | |

The Nuts fall close to the tree

In the dimmed theater, the stage is set
not for a play though, yet a performance 
one of baton, brass, notes, timpani 
the performance I have waited for has come

As the stage lights grow brighter like sunlight
the theater grows dimmer yet, almost dark
but for the brilliance of the stage lights
then out you come with French Horn in hand

Along with thirty of forty other musicians
you take the stage, you are first chair
therefore you must be at your best tonight
and I know that you will be, you've practiced

The Conductor arrives on stage and announces
Welcome to the Black Hawk County Honor Band
I am sure you will be pleased with our selections
The Conductor takes the podium, opens his arms

With baton in hand he signals instruments ready
You raise your horn along with the others
ahhh the sound is fervent with excitement 
the theater is alive with Parker in G flat

I can pick your horn from all the other instruments
you are playing the best you have ever played
you are caressing your horn like a fine jewel
and it sparkles in the light brilliance unimagined

Like your brother the writer of poetic beauty
you also have talent, musical talent like I
you now can hear a song and play it, by ear
like I you are learning the guitar, teaching yourself

The next song, Bach, such beauty to my ears
you and your fellow musicians have mastered the master
two years you have played, it sounds like many more
I film the whole concert, to preserve the moment

The concert ends with a Beethoven, in B how lovely
again you played masterfully, never missed a note
You even hit high G, and you thought you couldn't 
well done son and it's all on tape, and in my memory

Red faced you leave the atrium, you worked so hard
I hug you and tell you how proud I am of you
all you want is a drink of water, you drank and
the redness is leaving your face, well done I hug you again

I wish your Brother could have been here to see and hear
he would have been proud too, and would have hugged you
You see, talent runs in our family, Me, you and Jared
all have it, So I guess it's in the gene pool, must be for you see

The Nuts fall close to the tree !

Copyright © Richard Pickett

Details | Bio | |

Broken Tree (2005)

A dysfunctional child lies in a heap of mud
If a parent couldn’t help do you think a stranger would?
Holes in her heart 
A family that torn apart
Not a bad girl just a poor outcome
Just bad labels like 'stupid' and 'dumb'
In this tree lies a damaged root
That’s why we see no flowers or fruit
Broken trees can’t grow wings
So this little girl resorted to other things


a true story about a girl and her family

Copyright © R Kumari

Details | Rhyme | |

The Dying Tree

Lying- 
in the gutters-
and on the streets-

Wasted beauty-
and brilliance-
at our feet-

From
a tree-
with
broken roots-

they fall-
like autumn
leaves-

Children
of a dying
family trees-

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Tree of Love

The soft warm shades of twinkle lights, reflects, muted, from love worn orbs. Serenity it does afford, to all our weary souls and hearts. Each decoration is a part, to the testament of years rewards. They glow richer, as love absorbs. Sweet memories, they do impart. Paper, glitter, from a child's hand. Delicate hand blown glass Angels. Beneath a star that rests above, popcorn and cranberry garlands, tiny hand painted, silver bells. Thirty Five years of Christmas love.
For the contest: Holiday Hearth Sponsored by Linda Marie

Copyright © Paula Swanson

Details | Narrative | |

The Saddest Christmas I Remember

Love is a season
And holidays mark the seasons, like signs in the road
Reflecting the bumps in our journey, but showing us a way back home...

Sixteen, in pajamas, watching the rain pelt down
It was long past midnight, Christmas eve
Twinkling lights on one house across the road, stared back at me
It was if they were trying to fill our void with color
The block was filled with a hundred black windows
And the blackness somehow seemed more appropriate  
There was no Christmas tree in our house this year
I suppose Dad felt it was too soon, or perhaps just the effort to get through each day
                                                                            had taken all the strength he had...
We had stayed up and watched a Christmas program together...
It was Perry Como, I think....somehow I remember how he sang "Ava Maria"...

My brother had come home from the Air Force earlier that week
He had helped bring us a bit of cheer....at least for awhile...
but he had been called back to duty, and I missed him terribly...

The house was silent after Dad had gone to bed
I wasn't sleepy....and it was lonely looking out at the cold night
It seemed the whole world was sleeping, 
                                 getting ready for the sun to shine on Christmas morning...

I started to head for bed, but noticed a light had been left on in the front coat closet
I opened the door, and looking up, to pull the chain, I noticed the box...
   The little box that kept the sugar cube house
It was one that Mom and I had made together when I was 8 years old... 
         Little sugar cubes stacked into walls and a roof, glued together with red frosting.
We had copied one out of her Ladies' Home Journal....surrounding it with little trees, and 
people skating on a mirror for a pond, things we had found at the 5 and 10 cent store
Carefully packed away last year, on Mom's last Christmas....

Throughout the night, I sat in the dimness of the house, laying out the sugary scene on the 
fireplace mantel....as Mom would have done .

When the freckled morning moved into day...
I woke on the sofa...Dad sitting next to me.  He had covered me with a warm blanket.
He held me and we cried together.
After breakfast....he disappeared outside, and soon came in carrying a sorry looking branch 
from our old evergreen tree.
We decorated that bedraggled branch...it wasn't the most beautiful tree we had ever had
But it brought Christmas back to my family...


For Constance La France's contest "Your Saddest Christmas Ever"
Carrie Richards

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Family Tree

They stand in cottonfields of snowy white
The faded, black and white of my grandparents..
Smiling as though everything were alright.
Cotton sacks hung low down to the ground,
As the depression came calling,
Twas the way of life...

Those first thick, blury, color pictures of mom and dad
From those old peel away Polaroid cameras made,
Of the very first brand new car they ever bought..
A baby blue Chev wagon..
I wonder now..what they thought?    :-) 

Their dirty kids holding stringers of slimy fish
Proudly displaying today's big catch

Shiny bright new pictures of grandkids with phones
Who look with wonderment...
At the pictures of cottonfields of snow

Donna Jones
10-5-2013

Copyright © Donna Jones

Details | Limerick | |

The Gods' Family Tree

An Egyptian I never could be,
but since reading of their history,
in limerick form
I now write to inform
my friends of the Gods’ family tree.

From “Waters of Chaos” came Nun,
the only God under the sun.
The first piece of ground
rose up as a mound.
Hun stood there and coughed up a son!

Hun spat out the God of Air, Shu,
and he spat out a cute goddess too.
Tefnut was her name.
Moisture was her fame.
She and Shu beget children - two!

Their son was named Geb; the girl, Nut.
I’m not sure how to say her name, but
I sure like to say
Goddess Sky’s name the way
that rhymes with the famous King Tut.

When he laughed, the son Geb, “God of Earth,”
made the earth shake beneath his great girth.
I think Geb is busy
in modern days, for he
quakes often, for he’s fond of mirth!

For the tale to proceed, there ensued
some more incest, and not to be crude,
Nut, the Goddess of Sky,
got it on with the guy,
King of Earth, and they had a big brood.

There came forth from their coupling,
Queen Isis and a new Earth King,
Osiris, who was
a good king because
he ruled all rebirth, a great thing!

One son, against harmony, came
to kill Osiris, and his name
was Seth; once again
like the story of Cain -
an envious brother to blame.

But Seth got his just desserts when,
having married his Mom Isis, then
he was killed by HIS son,
named Horus, who won
the throne, and so “good” ruled again.

From Seshat to Sekmet to Rah,
Gods were worshipped by ancients with awe.
You’d have worshipped them too
had you been born to do
your poems on papyrus. Ha ha.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Light Poetry | |

Complicated Family Tree

Rory and Cory are brothers.
They have the same father
but they have different mothers.
Their mothers are sisters.
That makes Rory and Cory cousins
as well as being brothers.
Rory’s mother is Cory’s aunt
and Cory’s mother is Rory’s aunt.
Cory is Rory’s mother’s nephew
and Rory is Cory’s mother’s nephew.
Rory and Cory have a very
complicated family tree.

Copyright © Jerry Stevenson

Details | Rhyme | |

My Family Tree

Explorin' the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestors could be famous, humdrum er downright spicy!
With bated breath I decided to take the risk and check around.
I wasn't all that enthralled about some of the dudes that I found!

Seems that in the distant past a member of my family strain,
Was a notorious pirate maraudin' the boundless Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose,
'Til a posse tracked him down and left him danglin' from a noose!

One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbin' trains,
Was ensconced fer life in a cozy cell, detained in clankin' chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon;
The high sheriff done him in one fateful August afternoon!

My lineage included a business lady of whom I proudly spoke,
'Til it was revealed she was a soiled dove, dismayin' this poor bloke!
My great-grandpa was caught dispensin' jugs of potent 'shine!
Revenooers busted him resultin' in a term in jail and a hefty fine!

A distant uncle was a goon in a notorious gangster mob.
He met his Maker heistin' a bank they were tryin' to rob!
I proffered a prayer as I examined my tragic family tree:
"Lord, may a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Entry for Judy Konos' "Relatives" Contest

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw

Details | Free verse | |

Our Holiday Home

Christmas boxes full of memories down from the attic they come
The house was so quiet but...now 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

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown

Details | Lyric | |

Autumn, Lit.Op.3

Oh summer sun’s dusk, the last of its kind!
Now season to tame the bloom that was wild,
Dyed leaves in the air and their rushing sound,
Go dance in the wind like flares in the ground,

This time it’s his time to wither and die,
This Tree that stood straight front my window by,
Those summers and springs while all looked up high,
It hinders my sight- see Venus in sky,

But now it’s his time to wither and die,
This tree that stood straight front my window by,
Now I am among that can cherish her,
Gone in my perspective- all the Tree’s blur,

I saw her meet the leafy winds of fall,
And through the cold her grace and beauty crawl,
This winter and fall we all looked up high,
At last so I see, I see her in sky!

But this spring had sprung along with its bloom,
The tokens of past are the guilt and gloom,
Rise in its remains front my window by,
Hence there I had gazed my loss as I cry,

“In the humid air as drenched earth below,
Down to his shade where there I was spared so,
And back the days where my peace was at stake,
The anger I shared- these all for my sake,”

For those where his deeds whom I had seen least,
They all were unveiled as now he’s deceased,
So here I see forth- winter! Oh its grief!
Dyed are in the air; last sun’s gloomy leaf,

Shame! Fool, I was fooled. Sweet lies in her hands,
Thus so I’m to look his corpse where this stands…
Front my window by. Radiates those good nights,
I send my rejects to all her invites!

-oOo-

Copyright © Karlo De Leon

Details | Haiku | |

Christmas Without a Christmas Tree

Glittery Christmas
Filled cavity on my mind
Christmas ain't yet come

**************************

Sight flickering glare
Alternately trap my eyes
But shines ain't for me

***************************

Christmas, dear Christmas
Be the present of my tears
Tiny hug in missed

****************************

A tree full of lights
Shimmered warm, deep on my cries
Sad memories blinked

****************************

Pretty past inhaled
When time puts togetherness
Now just three of us

****************************

New family tree
The Santa's gift as mercy
God truly blessed me

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko

Details | Free verse | |

Work

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


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013

Copyright © Smail Poems

Details | Haiku | |

the tree

the tree
brightly lit for comfort 
no presents exchanged

Copyright © Charles Henderson

Details | Quatrain | |

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

Copyright © Charles Henderson

Details | Rhyme | |

Shining Fruits From A Solid Tree

Shining Fruits From A Solid Tree


As I rest on this high mountaintop
blessings come, they never stop
All my family are blessings to me
shining fruits from a solid tree

The clouds parting early each dawn
sunshine on flowers on the lawn
Looking closer I am content to see
smooth waves upon my family sea

Whenever this life sends some bad
I reflect on blessings I've had
Bow my head and settle in to pray
good Lord, thank you for every day 

As my time for leaving comes near
I stand in faith not abject fear
Seeing my family in heaven my goal
praying God's mercy on every soul

As I rest on this high mountaintop
blessings come, they never stop
All my family are blessings to me
shining fruits from a solid tree

Robert J. Lindley, 02-14-2015

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |

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

Copyright © Connie Gildersleeve

Details | I do not know? | |

The Barren Fig Tree

(God's Patience with Sinners / Final Judgment) LK 13:6-9 And he told them this parable: "There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, 'For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. (So) cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?' He said to him in reply, 'Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.' Reflection People make mistakes Fig tree is like a woman scheduled for abortion President Obama mandate is to take care of them Leave it for this year It will develop and bear fruit in the future

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Rhyme | |

The Magic Tree

The Magic Tree


			The magic tree
			It calls to me
			It brings me whispers of things to be,
			Voices of the past pass through the leaves
			Speaking to me of things gone by,
			I hear the voices of the ones I loved,
			Telling me of their enduring love,
			How they watch over me from where they are,
			Enabling my dreams to all come true,
			The magic tree takes it time to grow,
			Of the world’s mysteries it does know,
			It gives out wishes, one, two and three,
			When the wind blows,
			The magic tree,
			Calls out to me,
			It sends me love, warmth and the music of life,
			It gathers me into its branches,
			And hugs me tight,
			The magic tree,
			It calls to me.

			Celine Rose Mariotti

Copyright © Celine Rose Mariotti

Details | Ballad | |

The Old Oak Tree

In a meadow by the stream there stood a big oak tree
and now I think of all the things that tree has meant to me

The old tire swing hung from a limb was put up by our dad
and all day long us kids would play and oh' what fun we had

In the shade of that old tree whose limbs are now bent low
is where I met my one true love so many years ago

Was where I got my very first kiss under that old tree
and that old oak stood right there smiling down at me

We are all grown up now but how we loved that old tree
a place of refuge for us all a place where we were free

We all went back the other day to see just one more time
that beautiful tall old oak tree for ever etched in our mind 




Copyright © Oma Bennett

Details | Kyrielle | |

Santa Mommy

My nose is getting red like Santa’s perhaps I’ll grow a beard
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’ve hidden all the wrapped up boxes and all the clutters cleared
My son is on the air-o-plane he is getting VERY, very near!

Got the balsam wreathes up from Big Y and hung them on the doors
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
Go pick a pretty bulb out from the boxes on the floor
and set it out at ready for the big tree will soon appear.

Soon I’ll drive to JFK to get the MAN that big ole kid
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
If I had a bright red sleigh I’d get there fast like Santa did,
avoiding all the Yuletide traffic, why yes, I’d steer right clear.

With my red nose and a borrowed beard, red hat and all
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shift the pillow in my drawers and the crowd would be appalled
You’d see security winking “There’s a coo-coo over here!”

They’d let me through with no pat down, no scan of Santa’s tummy
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shout it to the customs guards “It’s just HIS loony Mummy!”
I need him to set up the pine tree before he disappears.

His friends have called their all waiting there is more of them than me 
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
One of the few times I see that boy by time and spaces decree
I’ll call them all to gather for the trimmings of yesteryear.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Rhyme | |

Whiskey Christmas

It was Christmas Eve; I was a prisoner of my own divide.
Lost in mind, clad in drunken sadness, caged up inside.
Alone and forlorn my thoughts laden with whiskey lies,
Memories seem so distant, only a week since goodbyes.
Christmas tree glistening, blurry in my vision of tears,
Flashing lights bright, neighbors Christmas party cheers.
No presents or joy in this household upon this night.
Sorrows, misguided gulps of liquor, cloud my sight.
Heartbroken, gloomy devouring the demon filled drink.
No more, no less, my eyes roamed over as I did think.
Hopelessly lost in a whirlwind of memories of no more,
No more, love by a lover, no daughter to teach the score.
Left me in a house, no longer our home that we shared,
Only I and this half-empty bottle, feeling impaired.
She left me, taking my child a thousand miles away.
While here in this house of torture, me and myself stay.
Every corner a recollection blinks by crystalline light.
Splintered and speckled by the twinkling star so bright.
Atop the now barren tree which had shined with joys.
Years before cluttered with wrappers, boxes and toys 
I slam a big gulp down my throat, since this was my first.
Night of my debut to the evil of whiskey blinding thirst,
Never before had drunkenness been a quest or even a try,
This night she devoured my soul, not wanting ever to cry.
Intoxication was a desire, though not ever beyond joy.
My virgin body of drink has choked me unable to deploy.
Sour mash tears wash down my face, wiping my eyes.
I hear my built up agony; pour out in inhuman cries.

User Name  Cecil Hickman

Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~ 
Contest Name Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever 

Copyright © cecil hickman

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.

Copyright © Lori Lucas McClure

Details | Rhyme | |

The Little Leaf

The little leaf held tightly
to his mother tree's bark.
He started to get frightened
when the sky began to get dark.
But the mother tree comforted him,
filling his little heart with love.
"It puts the world to sleep," she said,
"and is sent from the One above."
As the love between the leaf and tree grew stronger,
the weather began to change.
The color of green seemed to fade,
and the little leaf felt strange.
"What is happening to me?"
he asked his mother tree.
"It's a natural part of life, my child," she said,
"you're becoming who you're meant to be."
The leaf turned a beautiful bright yellow,
as summer changed into fall.
He danced in the golden sunlight,
feeling a thousand feet tall.
Again, the weather started to change,
and the growing leaf asked to leave.
So the mother tree let go of her child,
but her heart wanted to grieve.
The cold wind blew this little leaf
far away from his mother tree.
As he joined the sleepy earth,
he was glad that his mother set him free.

Copyright © Angie Sharp

Details | Sonnet | |

THE FAMILY TREE Monsieur L'Vampyre

     THE FAMILY TREE  Monsieur L'Vampyre
I'd only been astir and on the move
into the night, while Paris makes its play
on lovers as they meet and make their groove
and come undone after a frantic day;

and I made weak from penning all day long
anthologizing favored kith and kin
to hand it down, a blood line deep and strong,
but adding just a bit of fiction in;

when there she smiled and made it plain to me
that God is real, and blesses those who wait
who keep the faith that love just has to be
beyond the measures metered out by fate.

    And so I set my pace as she did will
    and made my move with all my loving kill.

In little time the Seine gave off her light
and shined like all the stars that Heaven's known
she made me laugh and smile all of the night
and cherish every moment love was grown

there in the bliss we made my family tree
one more the number than had been before
and promised she, to call him after me
if I'd reveal what un-dead has is store;

so then I bited to her deepest vein
and suckling that I be, I breathed her soul
into my deepest heart, again! again!
til all we were was one, and love made whole.

And took she then my son some other place
as I prepared to never see his face.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Quatrain | |

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



Copyright © Sarai Romani

Details | Free verse | |

The Family Tree

"The female trees tend to make a little more mess in terms of seed production and fruit production, so they would move to male trees, because they aren’t making a mess" said Bill Roesel, a municipal forester in Windsor, Ont. 


awakened by a racket from the back yard 
they watched as Steve staggered through the damp grass, 
hatchet in hand

ker-RACK as her right 
limb shattered from the violent 
assault

the kids quickly returned to their beds,
     in the dark  
the tree wept as her leaves
fell like summer rain

by august she was dead 

Copyright © Ralph Mason