Age Tree Poems

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

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Details | Rhyme |
             in the sun 
              to long
 The skin became the bark of a tree
 the soul turning to brittle scars
 for uncaring worlds to see.
             my face
            is a pile of 
           old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones 
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored  smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
              in the sun
               to long
the mind has smoothed over 
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me

Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday 
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place 
where watercolors swirled all day, 
the heart worms kept at bay.

I'll stay hidden within the weeds, 
till the jewels of memories soothe 
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
       ...stayed in the sun 
              to long

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
How did a cherry kiss? Bitter flower petals with sweet pistils.
So laden they act as halos while we breathe the love
in a pink hollow, silence sounding like taste, acting like epistle
to hold this moment in a silvery image, like moon, or  dove
low, low, a bowl formed while sunshine flickers above.

Chains of yellow petals hang over our deck, the leaves hands--
offer welcome resting branch, our sheltered home.
Seeds follow close, fragile like beans, hard case to feed the land
crawl before God, they say, be grateful as we weed and stir loam.
Together seeds and flowers and hands make a life a poem.

Awaiting the sumac, the flame at summer's ending is fruitless
we've passed the feathering, the pimping of red underneath bristle
the deer horn softness crawling out in oddest places in a mess
lining the sand pond, above the purpled iris, the pestle
of stone and sun, no rain to bring down sumac's fiery trestle.

Vulturous crows squawk and fight the ring-billed sea gulls
waiting, one in the bared hollow hands of the cottonwood
the other fat-bellied and waddling after rain finally dulls
we're under hoodies,  under shivers, our neighborhood
waits the pinking and mossing, will it unfurl new wood?

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
[“It nourishes the spirit and feeds the imagination” ~ Ryszard Antolak]

In the desert of Abarkuh
this magnificent cedar stands,
a symbol of beauty and happiness,
liberty and justice; the triumph of life.
Was it Zoroaster or Japheth
who planted this sacred Iranian tree
which has withstood the test of time,
defying nature’s most fierce elements?
There it stands, savouring memories
of distant years, witness to the birth 
and growth of modern civilization.
It bears no fruit, but it feeds the spirit
and offers shade to those who seek it.
Age takes its toll. Weary yet defiant
it clings on to stubborn faithful roots
waiting for the master to call its name
while swallows huddle in its welcoming
branches, whispering, as the sun goes down,
keeping her company right till the very end.


Period of Time ~ a 4,000 year old tree
Contest: Punctuation Personified
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
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 | Sonnet |
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

 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
 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

Details | Personification |
Old Mr. Oak Old Mr. Oak had bumps on his sides. In his tired arms, black birds did reside. He had seen all kinds come and go, watching the young become old and slow. The largest and king of mighty trees, for 100 years, he’d danced in the breeze. Children had used him to play at their games, and he laughed at snowstorms, ice and rains. Seasons came and time passed by. Many have stood under his watchful eye. Lovers carved their initials in a heart. Smiling, he knew he'd always be a part. Old Mr. Oak’s bones creaked when he swayed. Sometimes an arm or two would give way. One day the owner built a pool in his yard. Earth movers’ trauma hit Mr. Oak hard. In autumn his leaves turned but didn’t fall. They hung there brown for an expert to call. He said he was dying from shock and such. The shifting of his roots had been too much. Old Mr. Oak had to face his life’s end. To the last ounce of living this tree would defend. His limbs hit the ground and jarred Mother earth. Saws snarled as they grappled with his thick girth. He closed his eyes on the green garden world, and sighed as his life began to unfurl. That glowing fire of a room so warm, comes from old Mr. Oak, all the years long. 10/13/16

Copyright © Janis Thompson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Nonet |

    Everyday as i pass the old tree

        i compare myself to the limbs

            branches hanging lower now

                leaves dropping and bark scarred

                    the deep roots un-earthed

                        tree house fallen

                            glory days

                                lost in


Contest: The Old Age
Form: Nonet
Sponsored by:  Dr. Ram Mehta

Poems by Shar

Copyright © Sharon Ruebel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cinquain |
Leaves release from their place of honor
Firm branches remain behind as naked
Look down on diamond blue hillsides fall
That origin, location where trees begin
With a proper perspective on leaf and limb

Held firm are the branches tilting forward
Acknowledging tomorrow from the womb...                                                        
The purpose is clear 
The objective was shade
But now, no more, as it is gone 

Shade disappears under the turtle tree
Exposed by the relentless sun hanging drunk
There in the total dark of space without strict discipline
Deciding to fire up the sky in search of hiding creatures
To burn them alive if necessary

Look under the trees void of leaves
Turtles fried white turned lifeless
They lay there, outed by the sun
And anything that lays beneath its scrutiny of light
There to be revealed by the barren bark dies

Stripped of what they were, trees surrender
A breeze takes their offspring leaves off to other worlds
Green with envy never to be returned
Trees have no secrets of their own
Where they come from only they know

To keep on growing is the goal 
Hiding in clear sight with roots intact
Making new leaves to start the cycle
Every leaf is released into oblivion 
Trees believe and follow their beginning

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
I am
The willow tree
I am joy and I am sorrow
I am unmoving but free
I am what everyone is
But what few people can be

I have lived through many days and many years
And I have gained much wisdom and peace just by listening
I have witnessed much laughter and heartbreak
In the flat, flowering field that I stand in
I have had many children swing and tug on my vines
And have felt love and joy as if they were mine

But just because I am wise and old
Does not mean I am not strong
For many years I have withstood raging rains and wicked winds
Like a concrete wall
With my love of life to help me along

So when my time comes to an end
When my curtain is starting to close
I will be tired and spent
But peaceful and content
With the great knowledge that:

I was
The willow tree
I was joy and I was sorrow
I was unmoving but free
I was what everyone is
But what few people can be
I was alive.

Copyright © Campbell Speedy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.

Copyright © Anthony O. Mitchell Jr. | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick |
Aged wings fairy sound
Swirling colors gather round.
Many more fill the air
Glide as grace for all to share,
Final rest upon the ground.

Copyright © Richard Breese | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |
Oh Tree, so big and strong
We live life in your shadow.
With thick, broad limbs so long,
You give shelter down below.

Oh Tree, so old and wise,
You've seen the decades spinning.
You've touched so many lives
And children's hearts you're winning.

Oh Tree, so full of green,
Your days are surely numbered.
Still, Living in a dream,
And never having slumbered.

Oh Tree, so worn and bent
Where did all your children go?
The storms will not relent,
Still, you never will let go.

Copyright © Cherie Fleming | Year Posted 2016

Details | Tanka |
Derelict now cold Mossed stones in sporadic spill Ageing arms out spread They, competing for the light Sadly, both succumb to time .

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
I was walking in the park last week,
when to me, a young boy did speak.
'Excuse me mister can you tell me,
where can I find a cookie tree?
I know that there are some in here,
and I've been told that they are near,
yes, before I was the age of three,
I knew all about the cookie tree!
I've never seen one yet, although,
they're definitely here, yes this I know,
as from a very young age they've told me so,
that cookie trees in this park grow.
So come on mister, tell me please,
where in this park are the cookie trees?
I have to find them before I'm old,
and they're definitely here, because I've been told.'

I answered him in the following way.
'Since I was young I've come to play,
and wander freely all around this park,
but your question leaves me in the dark.
Because, never once in all this time,
have I come across any sign,
to tell me that cookies grow on trees,
where did you get your info please? '
Straight away, the kid replied.
'Oh well, you're the first one that I've tried.
I didn't think I'd do it with ease,
you know, find the orchard of cookie trees.
So I'll carry on until I find,
someone who believes, and isn't blind,
yes a person who really, truly agrees,
with the fact that cookies grow on trees!

Copyright © Tom Higgins | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku |
ancient redwood gleams
softly through the mists of time…
mayfly flitters by

-08 Jun 2014-

Average Lifespan:
Redwood Tree - 600 years
Mayfly - 1 day

Copyright © david mohn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |
That Old Tree Was Loved
That old tree had weathered many storms past
Veteran of countless intense brush fires
Giant limbs still grew strong and very fast
Yet this summer, one can see where it tires.

Broken limb , dangling about thirty feet up
Huge hole burnt in deep by last big burn
Dried out looking for water from drought's cup
If it dies this year , so it was its turn.

Child of nine swung from its lofty branches
Climbing so very high for a huge thrill
Tree was life and we daring to take chances
To see farther, what lay over the next hill.

A picture of old and ancient life now gone.
Remembering, this heart again feels so alone!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-28-2015

Note- Yes this old tree existed on the farm . 
As a young child I marveled at its size and beauty. 
When I turned 45 years old I went back to see if it was still there.
 Only a huge stump remained.
For me as a child it was the greatest toy in world.........

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Mindbodies unfold from embryonic seed
toward full living-loving 
sense-synthesizing leaf production,
full YangPower during warm light-drenched days of summer,
Earth’s rotation fuelling healthy growth,
yet weedy monopolizing tendencies as well.

Seed unfolding is our first longing half, 
maturing toward healthy EarthTribe speciation,
in fullest life glory.

Our second half returns fading leaf powers 
to regenerate next season’s healthy yin-seeds
for EarthTribe’s full forest embryonic memories,
folding out from winter through summer,
then refolding summer back toward yin-hibernating winter
of each perennial ringed life.

Folding in from political and economic production leaves
through symbiotic breath of maturity,
searching metaphysically exhaling iconic paths,
now imprinted with Earth’s nurturing light air,
wet soil,
inhaling and exhaling revolutionary fires of transubstantiation,
giving way to new fetal forests,
understories of regenerate future recreations.

This first half, unfolding,
needs nothing yet wants every source of digestible nutrition.
Then second half, productive leaves
giving way toward next generation’s seeds,
wants nothing
yet mysteriously needs this entire forest
to evolve belonging together;
mutual nurturance full-powered.

Each life’s premillennial unfolding seed
consumes energy toward maturing fullness
as postmillennial aging refolds balancing consumer-producer dancers
leafing leaping fertile enrichment,
co-messiah bodhisattvas, 
Earth’s ecosystemic embryonic regenerators.

Basic Attendance shadows our co-present humane capacities
to know and love 
how seeds and leaves 
are both same and different
each moment of each unfolding/folding love,
synergetic political events, relational transactions,
nutrition-rooted economic trees
transforming yin seed into yang leaf
and back again,
ecosystem within as without iconic Earth.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Blank verse |
Lemon tree very pretty 
it was a summer night many years ago
woke, thought I heard the whimpering
of a baby, thought it was a dream,
Woke up again my wife was not there
by my side but in the garden where she
had made a hole under a lemon tree
 She put what looked like a shoebox in
the hole filled it in and placed stones 
on top of her buried secret. Next day she 
didn`t get up stayed in bed for days and 
I looked after her but said nothing.
When she got up she looked slimmer 
and took up jogging to stay slim.
The lemon tree grew too I got a man to
chop it down but left its root, she got 
upset loved this tree and when unseen 
wept. I used to long for her to tell me her
secret, but not now with the tree gone
 I do not care to know.

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lento |
withering branches fall from the old tree
life has passed for the tree; children playing on its limbs
fire was started from its parts to warm up some stormy hearts
husband and wife stood under the tree renewing their vows
of twenty years before 
Grown children now stand in front of the tree since it has to come down
Parents passed away left this legacy to them.
Each child says to the other lets make furniture from the tree for future generations
Decision made inside the old tree smile with a sigh.

Copyright © Betty Redd | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

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.

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Drifting through life on an effortless breeze
Floating through the wind like leaves off trees
We start off lives as just a bud
Conceived from a tree planted into the mud
But over time we learn, grow, and thrive
Learning to do more than only survive
But then on one momentous day 
We detach our stem and break away
Floating on our own path through the breeze
Floating through the wind like leaves off of trees

But then one day we settle down 
And decompose within the ground 
The end of our race is finally run
But for other buds, life has just begun

Copyright © Dylan Foss | Year Posted 2015

Details | Cowboy |
Walking along this long
and a lonely road
Completely flanked by tall trees
Blossoming with rich berries waiting to
be plucked
Blossoming with flowers waiting to
usher us into a new dawn
With sweet fragrance in the air and
colourful birds singing
With their soft and tender tones in the
cool hour of the day
Calling for a lone lost heart faraway in
the wood
Faraway in the wood, love comes calling

O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress

In this cool afternoon, every bird sings
itself a love song
Every heart sings a new song
Every wing creature captures her likes
and soars away to the trees and
Every creeping creature religiously mate
beneath the earth before night falls
When darkness covers the beauty of

Walking down to the wood this dark
eerie night
Praying and waiting for you
Under the moonlight and the shade of
the oak tree
To present to you my beautiful flower
and sweet berry
That will usher us into a new dawn

O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress

All night long my heart longs for you
Crickets rustle out your name
My pretty little Angel
My mouth cannot express what is
On the pages of my mind
How I long to kiss your soft and tender
How I long to be sheltered in your arms
when soft rain falls

I am thinking of you O gentle lady
I am thinking of your smiles- the smiles
of an Angel
I am thinking of your eyes- the eyes of a
goddess filled with the colours ofthe
I am thinking of your dark hair, long and
flowing like a fountain of water
I am thinking of your lips from which
lovely words flows

O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress

Copyright © Jonah Okpabi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |
Naked is the tree
Of life, history unfolds
Wise eyes absorb the truth

Copyright © Denise Morgan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


Here in the winter of my long lived life,
the leaves of my head now fall to the ground.
Destined like leaves of trees gone dead, 
the winter winds will soon blow my dust around;
and like fallen leaves, I’ll be done with this world’s strife.

Oh but when the scythe of time snips my thread,
would if I could be like leaves of trees---
who in due season, go happily to their death:
leaving their wooded---naked bones with nothing left
but the bark of reason guarding their earthy homes
through whose lonely arms, the chilly breeze freely roams. 

Yet, for these trees, another season comes like the mornings’ dew;
And they shall rise up from winter’s purgatory and begin life anew.


And though the sojourn here has had its moments of despair,
the flames of  love, faith and  hope have always been there.
So when I’m gone, weep only tears of joy for me;
for I know why the empty cross was made of the wood of a tree.  

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
Beneath the trees I swung so free...

How can nature's giants give such roar
The last protectors I ever saw
Their sway, unity to this day
But leaves fall as adults betray

Climbing high and scoping bark
I think back not to a cancer of my park
I urge to be in touch of myself and the laughing
To purge my inner such, away the stealth and trespassing
Til then, this tree will sway while I do hum
The beat of the beaten, the beat the heart drum

Building up to these woody beasts roar
The experience closes my eyes for all more
A crush and a chill from the beautiful and the breeze
Launched in crazed motion to my smile from knee

O a wonder is a world
Where 10 years a boy was a cancer unfurled
The car, his face and the laughing at the end
So allow me a moment to depend...
...On my sweet giants, their sway, their bend
To look up and up, I shall mend

Copyright © James Pepper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |

willow tree weeps

as red owl hoots on frail branch...

clinging to old age 

Copyright © daniel port | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
Imagine yourself as a tree
with a leaf named Yang
and a coarising nondual twig named Yin,
having a sappy conversation about life and mortality.

Do you think this twig would be so foolish as to correct the leaf’s beliefs
that life and death are analogous to evolution and retrenchment,
dormancy decomposing into further incarnations of Earth’s soul,
feeding root systems of future tree’s healthy coarising development?

Yet, for the leaf named Yang,
once separated from your embryonic twig
and Yin’s ecologically breathing economic and politically symbiotic treehome,
healthy life is but a nutritional season.

Your incarnate tree’s rings of revolutionary root systemic development,
of resonant evolution,
of regenerate virginal life
spans many growing seasons, as a tree
thriving, then gradually slowing, within your interdependent forest.

many enculturing centuries more,
as a speciating voice within Earth’s nutrient/boundary skin
of RNA/DNA scripted life,
further potential regenerations
of Earth’s abundant love.

Imagine Earth preoccupied leaves
decomposing sunny fuel and healthy nutritional function
for yin’s well-versed root systems
forging future virginal yet regenerate occupations.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
He sat on his swing attached to a willow tree
swinging to and fro, full of happiness and glee
shouting to his mother, mummy look, look at me,
life was so good, loved, happy, footloose, fancy free

now sits on his motorcycle, mum doesn't agree
shouts to young ladies, come ride it's fun you will see
though your safety I will not, can not guarantee 
but I am sure you will feel footloose, fancy free,

now he is married with his own son, John Barry
swings to and fro, shouting hey daddy look at me
bringing back memories of his mum Emily 
how she allowed him to be footloose, fancy free.

time passed so quick, he saw his only son marry
still looks at that swing attached to the willow tree
blown to and fro by a Gentle breeze, quite scary 
being unable to be footloose, fancy free.

21st May 2017
Contest fancy free
Sponsored by Julia Ward.

Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |
The pale yellow leaves
 seem painted on the tree
 in water color,
 revealing sclerotic veins
 they spin and tremble gay
 without telling or being asked 
 hanging on while those 
 whose time has come 
 drop as doomed snow flakes
 striking the sidewalk
 with hollow thumps,
 a regular rhythm as 
 the ticking of a loud clock.
 Visibly the holocaust moves forward,
 the metamorphosis of a painting,
 the tree becomes more pitiful
 it's black nudity emerging from 
 yellow dabs in the unseen wind
 tugging at the twirling hangers-on
 and sending a dense swatch
 of the fallen scurrying
 across the street en masse
 as a hungry mob.

Copyright © Peter Kautsky | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sijo |

Loving long beneath the moon, the willow tree our canopy
Sweet the words we murmured soft, promising all, expecting all
Innocence, before the willow cries for lost youth , so fleeting....

Holding hands, 'neath the willow, remembering youthful passion
Peaceful moon, a deeper love transcending time, circumstances
Closing doors, a great mystery they face at last, together 

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014