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Lyric Tree Poems | Lyric Poems About Tree

These Lyric Tree poems are examples of Lyric poems about Tree. These are the best examples of Lyric Tree 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 | Lyric |

Oh Christmas Tree

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Oh no I’m singing to a Christmas tree

Rum eggnog in me
Rum eggnog in me
Oh no I’m singing to the Christmas tree

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Much pleasure thou can give me

Oh mistletoe 
Oh mistletoe 
I’hve a Christmas tree I want to show

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Oh, I just kissed a Christmas tree

Oh Christine tee hee
Oh Christine tee hee
I thought you was a Christmas tree

No more rum for me
No more rum for me

Or my wife will toss me out
With the Christmas tree

Notes: I have no wife, and I have no tree, I may have some rum, but shhhhhh

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

Tree Friends

From childhood days trees are my friends,
and may our friendship know not end.
When I was small, I knew their ways;
I listened to the fairy lays
they crooned into the scented air,
I parted the willow's long, green hair
and found a welcome place to stay
till happy hours ate up the day.

Then some of us with dreamer's hearts
have stood, breathless, in midnight dark
upon those special summer eves
when fairies dance beneath the leaves.
Once you have seen the magic start
you cannot thrust it from your heart.
The yearning lasts a lifetime through;
your dearest friends will be the few
who share this rapture, rare yet free,
to know and love a special tree.

Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

Under the Weeping Willow Tree

Under The Weeping Willow

I saw you when we were kids
Playing with blocks on the kindergarten floor
We grew up
You became a beauty
I became a geek
I never had the never had the nerve to talk to you
Then we met

Under the weeping willow down on the shores of the river
We met, we held hands and we kissed
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the love we both wanted

I proposed and we wed 
Promising to share our lives from then on
Never to part
I saw the love in your eyes
The geek married the beauty
And the rest of our lives began

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
We shared our vows
The rings shined on our finger
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the forever we both wanted

Our baby was born on a summer day
The sun was warm and the breeze gentle
She was named willow
And she smiled at the sun shining through the leaves
She loves her mother and father
All the love in the world could be seen in her eyes

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
We were the perfect family
A beautiful little girl with a future of love ahead
She brought pure happiness into our lives
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the family we both wanted

That winter the love of my life died
She went to sleep
She answered God's call
All her prayers would be answered
I am sure that she was welcomed to Heaven
And given a beautiful pair of wings

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
I laid her body to rest
A beautiful love that will last forever
She is smiling because she was loved
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in sadness
The love of my life was gone

Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |

The Train of Life

The sun is up and I have to packed up,
The things I want to bring with the light of the morning
The trees are dancing, the wind is whispering
All I want is freedom but there is nothing.

The clouds are clear and I have to walk
The people I see smiling I paused and talk
They asked where I am going with my sweats flowing
All I want is freedom but there is nothing.

They wonder and frowned with my answer
They look at each other as if asking what ever
I continued to walk and stop talking with those creatures
But the station is still far away that my eyes couldn’t measure.

I stop and saw a tree and went to shade
The birds are flying fast and sharply like a blade
I pause and think for a while where I am going 
All I want is freedom, but there is nothing.

Hours have passed and I am tired of walking
To arrive at the train station where people are waiting
Somebody asked me where I am going
All I want is freedom, but there is nothing.

The train has arrived and I saw it gliding
I went near to its door and get inside to sit
The sound has started and someone beside me saying:
“All I want is freedom, but there is nothing.”

Copyright © Angelo Faunillo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |

On A Runaway Train

Written January 8, 2013

The morning blues in a lily on the pond
Wake on the wrong side of the road
Penniless pockets play the vagabond game
Ride the tiger recently tamed

On a long road to nowhere, horizon's stain
All's my name sitting next to me
Lie down with graceful angels deep in the snow
Or on wet grass recently mowed

I've grown accustomed to the scent of your mane
Spelled chug-chuga-chug is my name
Oh why do flowers never bloom in the snow?
They never have a chance to grow

No, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore
The oaks and pines getting clearer
Much to a land unafraid to spread its wings
Listen to Woody Guthrie sing

Bacon sizzles in the rain and sunshine reigns
We've reached the line of no return
Of the big rock candy mountain we will sing
For the next week my phone won't ring

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |

Life and Death of a Tree

My roots are strong surrounded by dirt. I am watered by the down pour of rain, 
sprinkled water. As I start to grow and come alive I become stronger by the 
I receive. The sun beats down on me and stimulates my growth, and I am 
comforted. My 
leaves begin to turn green and stick out like a small birds feather. I am looked 
and admired for my outer beauty. I begin to get stronger and stronger and then I 
to shed, and my leaves fall away. seasons change and I feel cold and stiff as I 
brown in color. My beauty decreases as I age then I die, but yet I return from 
just to start life all over again.

Copyright © Cathy Holmes | Year Posted 2005

Details | I do not know? |

Welcome 2013

Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome. 
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome. 
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

The Old Oak Tree

I want to go outside
I guess I could if i tried...
I never have the guts to do it though
I'm always scared what they would think of me if I go
Outside seems so welcoming
The breeze is practically inviting
How I long to accept its invitation
To sit by the oak tree and just listen
The grass rustling through my fingers 
The stillness of the night as I linger
The wind whistles a song
And I know that I will stay out here very long
I fall asleep
Next to the old oak tree
I hear the morning birds sing their song for me
I smile at them and I realize I'm truly happy for the first time
But when I suddenly wake up 
I cry
Because it was all a wonderful dream
And I knew it would never happen to me

Copyright © Caleah Buil | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

The Christmas tree

I have a small, small tree,
Covered by golden light.
Everyone is happy to see
My tree in Christmas night,
The star may be unseen,
An angel is in her prow,
The gift boxes are green  
Tied with a red bow,
The bedroom’s light is shut,
But the tree’s lights I keep.
Even so my love will put
Me and my girl to sleep
With a Christmas lullaby
And I will dream like a baby!

Copyright © João Camilo | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |

My Wishes are Simple

My Wishes are Simple

My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.

My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.

My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |

The Gift of Sound

The Gift of Sound.

In our little house stands an upright piano,
tuned by a blind man blessed by the gift of sound. 

My son sat one day playing a masterpiece, 
Written long ago by a man who couldn’t hear.

Listening to the music it took my mind away to,
To a magical place no luggage and no case.
My mind kept jumping between different scenes,
Fields of coloured flowers the loveliest it can be.

Shadows of far mountains colours in different hues
A pied piper sat under a tree playing his favourite tune.

Sheep gathered together chased by a cleverly dog
Taught by nature no cane and no flog.

Oh… the gift of sound.

Copyright © ali hammoud | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The New Santa Claus

I'm locking up my house, because it's that time for thieves.
I need to Santa proof my place, because It's Christmas Eve.
If he does get in, I'm going to run and hide.
I left out some milk and cookies with rat pellets inside.
While he's eating the cookies and he's starting to sweat.
The reindeer will be caught in security nets.
"I'm sorry boys and girls, but Santa has to retire!"
I'm going to tie him to the tree and set poor Santa on fire.
Then I'm going to take the toys and keep them all to myself.
Even though I've been bad, no coals will be on my shelf.
Merry Christmas to me! This year is going to be grand!
I'll get whatever I want, if Christmas goes as I planned!
Wearing Santa Claus' suite I'll get in houses without keys.
In twenty seven minutes I'll rob twenty seven trees!
So all you little brats, don't you cry and sob.
With the recession and depression, I just needed a job.
A lot of things are going to change, but you all shouldn't be sad.
Now that I'm the new Santa, It doesn't matter who's bad.
I'll use the elves as my slaves and the toys will still come.
Instead of a Nintendo, you'll get a gallon of rum.
Toy guns are for babies, how about the real thing?
A candy neckless won't impress, I'll make sure that it's bling.
You said you wanted a pony? How about a deer that can fly?
No more lousy presents, no more socks, or bad ties.
I'll change... 
Wait... Wait a minute... Was that all just a dream?
Why do I only have coal under the tree and in my stocking?
Santa please come back! I promse I'll be better next year!
I promise I'll be good and I'll spred more Christmas cheer!

Did Santa Claus come back? Did he come like I thought he should?
No Santa didn't, but next year I'll be good!
I'll only do what is right, aleast to his satisfaction.
So he comes back to my house, and my plan goes back into action!

Copyright © Travis Flasnick | Year Posted 2009

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!


Copyright © Karlo De Leon | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |

Sitting Eagle

Sitting Eagle
This poem is for the Poetry Soup contest:
Tell His Story
Ross Levan
Mach 15 2011-03-15

Sitting Eagle rests, with a tree at his back,
Playing his flute, to scare a wolf pack,
They have been hunting and following him throughout the whole night,
Escaping great peril in mother forest and sister moonlight,
He is a warrior and never gives up in fights,
But 20 wolves against one man just isn’t right,
With moccasins on feet and cowhides for pants,
He looks like a North American Indian at least at first glance,
He might be your grandfather from another time,
He might even be a grandfather of mine,
Sitting Eagle rests, with a tree at his back,
He’ll get home safe if he follows his tracks.

Copyright © Ross Levan | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

The Kitty and the Bunny: An Easter Song

"The Kitty and the Bunny" is a children's song, sung to the tune of "Pop! Goes the 

'Round and 'round the dogwood tree
Kitty chased the Easter Bunny,
'Til Bunny tossed an egg
That broke Kitty's leg;
And Kitty cried, "This game ain't fun-ny!".

Bonus activity: Give children some crayons and paper and have them turn this poem into a comic strip. Tell them you would use four boxes for your comic strip: one showing Kitty chasing the bunny, the next one showing the bunny tossing an egg, the next showing kitty holding his paw, and the last one showing tears streaming down Kitty's face. But, tell children they can use as few or as many boxes as they like for their comic strips and even change the storyline. The dogwood tree becomes an apple tree and bunny is seen pelting Kitty with apples. Perhaps squirrels join in the fight and start throwing acorns at Kitty.

Copyright © Cherie Durbin | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

Tree Sorrow

Earth's trees are pruned; men came and left
upon their branches burning scars;
now their arms are piteous stubs
no longer reaching for the stars.
My heart is wounded watching them,
so public is their grief and loss,
their shame exposed, yet mute they stand:
I think of Jesus on the cross.

© 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

A harvest of windblown souls

To this wavering family tree
I’m but a withering leave
My rustling a plea to free
To flee my mind’s sieve

Though their love is evergreen
Having strayed too far from my roots
I’m the first to fall this season
I crunch beneath the march of boots

To this quivering branch
I wish to be a fertile seed
Far beyond its clenching reach
Lest I end up mere bird-feed

A scattered golden existence
Trampled by uncaring soles
A slow death marks our brown existence
A harvest of windblown souls

Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |


We once climbed those tree happily
As mum and daddy were at home enjoying themselves.
We sang kpakpangolo ogolo, sang Onye ga agba egwu
Who is in the garden and my grand pa has a big eyes
Those stupid songs of morals and cultural values.
I know the trees in my village
The Ugba tree was where the witches held their meetings
But were later caught and punished,
The civil war started in the crying tree in my home town
Under the beautiful mountains Iyi azu.
The first election took place in the Iroko tree in my compound.
I know the symbols of those pretty trees 
Their scent, leaves and stem.
some of them once told me goodbye on the day of my departure to the city
Some wept and told me how much they would miss me at home
They reminded me how they have fed me when mother pushed me outside with no food.
Then they were my playmate.
I spoke English and igbo to them and taught them how T
To dance the atilogwu dance 
How Eyo festival is celebrated in the west.
I told them about our country, Nigeria and her bad leaders.
They really helped me during my tribulation 
But a enough, the westerners had destroy us,
They taught us how to kill those friendly shady trees 
Use them for stupid things which have no value.
I know those pretty trees which shield me from
Pains and sorrow when the sun came down to torment me
Like a monster and they guided me from the rain.
I know those tree of hope and endurance who stood
Against all odds to see me through when all deserted
And i was left alone in the dark .
Every thing God created are beautiful 
The world is beautiful.
I wanted to grow old with those trees but 
The evil men cut them down when i least expected. 

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

Tarzan the Jungle Ape Man

Living in he jungle, no fear to hold,
fighting, always standing bold.
Piloting in the breeze,
swinging on vines through the trees.
His best friends, the creatures there,
to each other they are fair.
As the great one echoes his call,
these creatures, in line they fall.
Ready to help in time of need,
lining up for their great stampede.
How this hero came to be,
left behind in the jungle was he.
Just an infant, unable to escape,
knowing his mother as an ape.
Learning ways of the animals,
imitating their amazing calls.
Suddenly a woman one day came,
becoming his mate, that was Jane.
The king of beasts is Tarzan,
not a Lion, but an Ape Man.

Copyright © Diane Pennestri | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |

In Another Light

The best thing you can do about a suicide is understanding it.

The boy opens the door and walks by his mom
his mom says "how was school"
He doesnt respond 
he walks silently to his room
His mom turns away in sadness
"its dinner time Ory" she yells up the stairs.
He walks slowly down the steps
Hiding something in his hand as he puts it in his pocket
His mother is setting the table
Putting meat on his plate 
He sits down unto the seat
not touching his food
"is there something wrong with it?" his mom asks
He doesnt look at her
"talk to me. why have you been ignoring me" she repeats.
He gets up off the chair and walks outside
Walking into the woods as his mom runs out
"get back here where are you going"

Every living thing dies alone." he writes in white on a tree in there back yard
He throws the rope over the toughest branch
He steps up unto a little chair
Tying the rope around his neck
The chair falls

His mom worries in panic
She cant find him anywhere
She waits up all night

The Next Morning"

She walks out to the garden
Looking up at a tree
She sees the fallen chair from behind a tall bush
She runs
Picking up the chair
Seeing the thing she never thought would have happened
She falls to her knees
A tear falls from her cheek
Not understanding 
Reading the words on the tree
Every living thing dies alone"
She wonders

She untangles him from the tree and holds him
Talks gentle to him
Something she hasnt done in a while
Now grasping the meaning behind what he has done

The best thing you can do about a suicide is understanding the meaning behind it.

Copyright © Orlin Collier | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |

A Lazy Afternoon

I sit  on my deck on this lazy afternoon
watching the sun move slowly to the west

The leaves are dancing on the oak tree out back 
from a breeze gently blowing from the south

A sparrow is hopping from post to post 
on the old fence down by the road

A little squirrel  playing  and running around
to the top of the tree and down to the ground

then I hear a whistle from a distant train
And the rhythm is like music to my ears

I  think to myself  what wonderful way 
to spend a  beautiful  lazy  afternoon

Copyright © Oma Bennett | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |

The Hackberry

There stands a tree whose climb I've shared,
Thereby, stacking hours, we'd fill our day.
Where boyhood dreams oft were pared,
While observing others passing our way.

This tree is huge, and through time's flow,
Climbers have been more than its share.
Beyond downward branches we would not go,
Unless responding to some friend's dare.

In youth, one of our grandest trees,
At last gasp, growth appeared the same.
Now, no foliage to greet spring's breeze,
It stands, unable to escape time's claim.

Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

The Angel of Death and the Joshua Tree

Written January 1, 2014

I'm just passing through 
This tumbleweed town
Wondering why anyone would
Bother to stay around
When the truths that are spoken
By our mothers and fathers
Are lies told to quiet our fears
To quench the thirst
Of a man counting his years

So today is the day
When I'll be laid to waste
Buried beneath this cold dry sand
Where my father once made me the man that I am
So go tell the angel of death
He can have all that's left
I've nothing to fear in this world
Tell my wife and my child
Not to go and get riled
Up over an old useless man
With a feather in my cap and a gun in my hand
Whistling tunes of my favorite band

Now it's just me and Death
Whispering under our breaths
Shouting high to the mountains
And cursing regrets
Who will be the first
One to draw out his gun
But no matter the end that we meet
One's labeled a coward
And the other is knocked off his feet

It looks as if death has triumphed in jest
Believers and sinners have come to pay their respects
So Death please just leave them be
Crying beneath this Joshua tree

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |


Written March 26, 2013

Hey you way up there in the tree
Hiding away for none to see
No I don't know why you refuse to be
Why can't you just see what I've seen
Hey little mockingbird don't mock me
It's these mystical one-eyed dreams
Keeping me from tossing myself
Twenty thousand underneath the sea

I am what I am
I've gone too far to rescind
These wonderful twisted dreams
Where we're skipping stones by the stream
I know what I feel
Now you're even more real
All I know is how to weep
With the birds lulling me fast asleep

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |


She slowly grew on him, surrounding his body with brown mold and green moss.

He can’t escape her detachment, her selfless embrace. Her love is only needed from one time to another, like one plant from another, growing and then dying.

And what was that he hoped for but could never find while he was alive?
Some type of love with attachment? She broke him moistly and slowly, piece by piece, while his body sunk deeper into her wet body as the sun and rain touched him.

Right before he died he heard the voice of her, “Shhh, my child, who thinks so highly of himself.”
“You come into me, and I will use you as you are needed! Broken, back into my body, back under my streams of water, back into the cold, soft soil, back where you were born.
You will be used as food for my small creatures. You will be used to fertilize the gardens of my skin.
The tulips in autumn, the dandelions in spring, they all wait to rise and see the rays of the sun just as you did.”

Copyright © JG FINCH | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |

The healing tree

  My nearly daughter gave to me
a branch from off a healing tree
I used it for a remedy
to heal my broken heart

  I wish I had it yesterday
but better late than not
they say
I think that I can try to stay
and heal my broken heart

  I cannot have those years again
I cannot dry those tears but then
I've found a way to make amends
and heal my broken heart

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |

The Old Oak Tree

Written by: Treasa Jarvis
Contest: Inspired

Living Here in the Country
is a laid back kind of way
I like to sit under the old oak tree
and write my cares away

I listen to the cheerful  sounds
that nature offers here
I am reminded of simpler times
when I didn't have a fear

Summer breezes blowing
inspires me to write a song
ignites a fire inside of me
gives me strength to carry on.

When I am feeling overwhelmed 
dont have to look for me
just across the meadow
I'll be sitting at the old oak tree.

Copyright © Treasa Jarvis | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

lovebird lovesong

Now there are two little bluebirds,
and an ocean of baby blackbirds 
to keep them company.

So sing pretty bluebirds, cause
you're really two little lovebirds,
singing we are soulbirds!

You fly from tree to perch

singing baby you're my bluebird,
singing where's my soulbird,
singing I hear my songbird!

Every tree is your home, 
and every tower your perch,
and don't be scared cause 
you sing like a dream, making 
your predators fall asleep.

Singing baby you're my bluebird,
singing where's my soulbird,
singing I hear my songbird!

Your sweet sonnets serenade my soul,
your lighthearted tune makes me want to
fly your direction, and your heavenly pursuit
keeps me on the edge of my tree.

singing baby you're my bluebird,
singing where's my soulbird,
singing I hear my songbird!

So, keep chipper my sweetly singing bird,
and you'll find me in the same tree eventually.
Leading the sparrows in the lovebird anthem,
then you'll remember our song. 

Copyright © Bethlehem Derseh | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

Within God's Loving Nest

Flowing water's ripple Upon dawns silent birth Spilling sacred songs In soft morning mist Chanting in rainbow colors In beauty light behold Entwinning purple velvet In ribbons of purest gold Flowing water's ripple Upon dawns silent birth Spilling sacred songs In soft morning mist To fly through weeping willows To fly beyond the edge Upon the hill of passion Within God's loving nest

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2016