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Best Tree Poems

Below are the all-time best Tree poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of tree poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Tree Poem | |

A Dryad's Tale

One day while passing by a tree, I heard a sigh. It seemed the oak could speak; I felt my knees go weak, for like a siren’s song, his whisper made me long to stop and lay me down upon his shaded ground. Because the day was hot, I lingered at that spot. The oak got in my mind because I felt inclined to slip out of my dress, and yes, I must confess it was as if that tree had cast a spell on me! With words of poetry, he started wooing me. His leaves then brushed my skin. I trembled deep within. His branches were so lush, I hoped I would not blush to think each sturdy limb might draw me up to him. I don’t know how or why, but under summer’s sky I disappeared into his essence and I knew the tree had captured me. His wood nymph I would be, for he and I were one that day beneath the sun. As if immortal, now I live beneath his bough; at times I disappear within him, but no fear lives in me any more because the forest floor I roam now with great joy; the woodland is my home! Beneath the firmament, lost in my oak tree’s scent, I feel completely free, his beauty all I see. A young maid passes by; perhaps she hears us sigh and thinks it but the breeze now passing through the trees. But no, it is but I, beneath the summer sky locked in my tree’s embrace, and with my new found grace, I look at her and see the girl I used to be, and my reality is this sweet fantasy I have several poems that are favorites but this is one based on fantasy and I really liked how it turned out!

Details | Tree Poem | |

Somber Days

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

Details | Tree Poem | |

My Tree's Seasons

spring wakens my tree - a bejeweled perfumed bride. . . . love birds make their nest summer’s yellowed lawn beneath my tree’s sombrero. . . . grass breathes sweet relief fall’s quick change artist - from green to gold to crimson. . . . disrobed, my tree naps For PD's All About Trees (old/new) poem Poetry contest

Details | Tree Poem | |

A Bed of Pink Petals

One April day when spring was in the air,
I stepped outside so I might relish it.
I came upon a cherry tree so fair,
beneath its limbs I was enticed to sit.

I fell to sleep inhaling fragrant bliss -
the vision of the tree still in my brain.
I dreamed one sweet, pink petal, like a kiss,
fell on my cheek, and soon there was a rain. . . 

A rain of lovely silken blossoms! Then
they softly made a pile upon the ground.
Warm wind embraced me; that’s the moment when 
I woke to pink resplendence all around!

Upon a bed of petals I then lay.
Inside a dream I had no need to stay!


Details | Tree Poem | |

The Solo Dancer - Tanka to Sonnet

Alone atop a hill,
   an ornamental willow
             dances in the breeze.
Long limbs form a lovely gown
    that gracefully sweeps the ground.

Adored by the sun,
    the willow is not weeping.
                        She blooms rosily!
April’s first shower has passed;
       for the sun alone, she shines.
           

The Solo Dancing Ornamental Tree (new title for the sonnet version)

An ornamental tree with willow leaves
upon a promontory stands alone.
In April’s breeze, each limb, cascading, weaves
with fragrance. She is dancing on her own.

I wonder how she came to be at all.
Her roots lie in a solitary place
where few traverse to spy her - lithe and small -
there moving in rain’s aftermath with glee.

In small degrees, the sun has climbed the sky.
No longer pallid, he is smiling down
upon the swaying willow. By and by,
Her graceful limbs shine like a lacquer gown.

Her lovely blooms have opened to expose
The splendid blush of buds with hue light rose.

Details | Tree Poem | |

June Bells Flowering under the Trees

June Bells Flowering under the Trees --------------------------------------------- Scarce had it rain'd -- blue hued drops showering down; in the witching hour I rode, where the earth is overrun by weeds, yellow fringed with black-eyed-susans; trees overhung with wild cherries. Pacing past the sequester'd glen, following the trail where tall beeches grow: long sleeved and long limb'd; and leaves falling in curling frills. Then I heard a merry song; sweetest tune enough to make a maiden swoon; soon turning round a winding bend, a field of dripping june bells; I sighted them, a thousand and more in blue slippers scatter'd wide. Seated myself on a moss cover'd stone, as one aptly does after a long ride. Somewhere beats an earthly heart, someone breathes a heaving sigh; Eyes turn to the darken'd clouds hanging by, and to the lowering skies; then far to the place where airy spirits roam, and to the sepulchred ground where unruffled I lie in my grave, under the tufts of june bells. .. For the contest: "Appreciation (In Honour of PD)" Sponsored by Abdulhafeez Oyewole Written on 4/23/2013

Details | Tree Poem | |

Eleven Words

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

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

Such a lonely man
I say to myself

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

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

A roadside friend is gained.

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

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

Same busy road
Same tree stump
No old man

I screech to a halt
Ask of his absence

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

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

Same busy road.
Same tree stump.
Different me.



Details | Tree Poem | |

Probabilities

Probabilities


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

07-24-2014

Details | Tree Poem | |

Silent Voice

--Tree Silhouette-- 

shimmering tree
there’s no footsteps around       
but fallen leaves 

**
afternoon twilight
heaven is listening
peaceful lonesomeness
  
**
Autumn waits 
wind blows the mind   
leaves falling softly

By:PD

Details | Tree Poem | |

Lessons Learned from Trees

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

                                                             ~A Rambling Poet~



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

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

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

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

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

...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment

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

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

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

some of them stumble
yet most of them
succeed

I am humbled.
I am awed.

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

little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life




--June 11-12 (2011)


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