Rows of heavy snow flocked pines
In varied heights stretch to touch
White cloud dappled azure skies.
Their blue-gray shadows cast across
Pristine snow and swift river's flow.
Steep hillsides lure camera lenses
With picturesque clear alpine air,
Sharing serene senses with dawn.
Shimmering bright in solar light,
Powdered snow in angelic glow
Captures diamond crystal auras
Reflected off the drifted mounds.
Rounded river rocks dressed with
Snow covered marshmallow tops
Greet the beauty of the celestial sun,
In divine display of this blessed day.
©Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.
I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.
Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.
Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.
My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.
The ominous reflection of moon
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.
Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.
Her claws prophesy of vengeance
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency
for a soul's annihilation.
Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013
Havn't you heard?
Life isn't fair.
and covers them with smiles.
Always in denial.
We all feel pain.
Life is a tree.
Beneath the bark.
You can laugh all you want,
but soon you'll see.
When they're the tree.
Copyright © Catherine Adams | Year Posted 2009
An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.
Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.
On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.
Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.
March, 7th, 2014
Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Mountain Lake is my favorite place to write
under shade tree are my pencil, paper, and pole.
Scribble down words while waiting for a bite
fishing my most popular angling hole.
Fish are jumping all around hook and line
small cork sits still and does not move or fade.
Patiently I sit in wait for that fish to dine
beneath weeping willow of cool tree shade.
Inspiration overwhelms biding snare
while creative mind laggardly transcends.
In far distance I see lone grizzly bear
and leave a good fishing pole to his friends.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2013
Oh the Christmas tree
standing ever stout.
Hear the children’s glee
when they search you out.
In the wood you stand
evergreen crisp spice.
Branches stretch; expand
beauty to entice.
Atop star will shine
for shepherds to see.
Telling birth divine
guiding wise men three.
Oh the Christmas tree
with arms spread real wide.
Lovely sight you’ll be
when you’re brought inside.
Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2011
"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature"
byWilliam Shakespeare, 1601
Come spring, in the shaded forests near my home
Blooms the elegant and lovely dogwood tree
In a bit of sunshine it spreads its graceful arms
As if to offer each blossom for God to see...
White velvet petals tipped by the palest pink
Simplicity strung along each swaying branch
No need to boast about its reign of beauty
This spring picture it surely does enhance...
My mother loved the pretty dogwood trees
We'd often stop to enjoy their brief display
I think of her each time I see them flower
These beauties that would so enrich her day...
Barbara Gorelick 4/20/2011
For THE TREE contest, hosted by Constance~ a rambling poet~
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2011
Majestic is the large enormous tree
Limbs coming out from all sides of the trunk
An aura of it being more than all
Tree sure hasn’t lowered nor has it sunk
The tree stands always high into the air
Strong is the stature of this awesome tree
Power is expected throughout this plant
Oversized is this mighty tree’s glory
Branches extend from the center of it
Growing ever so slightly it goes up
The highest point is extremely gorgeous
It offers peace like a cocoa filled cup
Majestic is the large enormous tree
Delightful it is to see its great might
It has aura of perfection inside
No other tree is as good of a sight
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014
Sitting alone in the light of the moon
Twirling my glass of red wine
I retreated back into my cocoon
But still felt a chill up my spine
Something flew by in front of the moon
With a silhouette of a wide wing span
Its feathers flapped slow as it sang a tune
Its wings spread out in a fan
Then off he went out into the night
A raptor soaring in flight
The environment alive in the moonlight
Was an awesome yet fearful sight
The quiet stillness of the midnight air
Was a mystically charged atmosphere
With all my senses alive and aware
I wondered what next would appear
The skeletal branches of a tree
Looked grim in the luminous glow
A leaf came loose and floated free
To the leaf carpeted lawn below
I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep
And dreamed of a forest of trees
And beyond the entrance further in deep
The temperature dropped thirty degrees
I snapped awake then in a flash
With a feeling of foreboding
And didn't really want to rehash
The message too obscure for decoding
I awoke to see in front of me
The same old leaf shedding tree
I thought I heard it speak to me
But honestly, how could that be?
I noticed the tree appeared forlorn
My thoughts were definitely wild
For it was only a honey locust thorn
What some people often reviled
I turned in for the evening after that
Then heard a light tapping on the pane
I saw it wasn't my Maine Coon cat
That’s when I went totally insane
A limb of that tree pointed towards me
Like a finger of a human hand
No more wine but Sleepy time tea
For me, I'm sure you understand
September 20, 2012
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
If men would but stand fast like a tree
Though fierce winds blow and rains fall
Bending and dipping but not breaking at all
You will stand in quiet majesty, tall and free
When conditions grow harsh with disfavor
Stand strong, proud and unwavering in faith
The tides will turn though it may come late
It will crown you with laurels of honor
When seasons turn favorable spread your arms
May your fruits give the motherless food and hope
May your shade give the homeless reason to cope
Then the world will flock to bask in your novel charm
When all that is you is rooted good and deep
No storm can reach the rich dreams you keep.
Copyright © IFEANYI AJAGU | Year Posted 2012
In the meadow, weeds flowering
By a cluster of old shade trees
Make a lovely scene attracting
Some butterflies and honey bees
Butterflies sipping each flower
Flit happily from bloom to bloom
Flaunting their wings of gossamer
Giving each other lots of room
Several colours of the rainbow
Painted on their gossamer wings
Put on a brilliant colour show
Such a happy feeling it brings
Bees also join in the feasting
Imbibing each flower's nectar
Doing so with joyful humming
In their role as honey maker
Weed flowers are in Nature's brood
Springing up where ever they please
They assist in providing food
For butterflies and honey bees
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014
Rocking and swaying in the breeze
Tree branches are dancing with glee
Such playful action of the trees
So joyous, unfettered and free
Leaves are all rustling and sighing
With a sound like waves of the sea
Like a crescendo that rising
And then subsiding gradually
Leaves that fell to the grass below
Perform their dancing in the air
The breeze tosses them to and fro
Making the show a grand affair
The sun is shining in the sky
Bathing everything in its light
I'm feeling such a glorious high
Gazing at this beautiful sight
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014
The Grinch lays exhausted on bails of hay
tired of chasing drunk reindeer from his still.
And he's sure to be lectured by Santa
as if it's his fault they lick up the spill.
He thinks Santa should drive a pick up truck
who uses reindeers and a sleigh these days?
And his cookbook titled “How to serve deer”
well that could be taken in many ways.
It’s so boring acting traditional
a little mischief adds spice to his pluck.
Yet elves don’t appreciate his genius
like greasing Santa so he won’t get stuck.
Today’s young are totally food conscious
cans of beans and beef jerky's nutritious.
And therefor why all the hullabaloo
so what if candy’s far more delicious?
Santa you see how it's not all his fault
for he's being the best Grinch he can be.
And he's wondering if maybe this year
he’ll get a gift under the Christmas tree?
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
They went to the manger that night,
those wise men who came from afar,
to worship the child by the light
of Bethlehem's bright glowing star.
The animals, drawn unto Him,
soon gathered 'round manger to see
the holy babe sleeping within,
and shared in the great mystery.
And so was our dear Lucy cat
at Christmas time lost in her dream;
each day by the Christmas tree sat
to guard the Nativity scene.
She'd stare at the babe in the hay
and looked at each figure beside.
It seemed something drew her to stay;
for hours she'd sit there wide-eyed.
Like animals, drawn unto to Him
that met 'round the manger to see,
our Lucy seemed led from within
to guard the sweet babe neath the tree.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: July 6, 2016
Contest: Cats and Christmas Trees
Sponsor: Mary Oliver Rotman
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
The tree stood stark and lonely,
All naked in the cold.
Her branches bare, her lovely leaves,
The breath of Winter stole.
In spite of all she stood yet proud,
Her branches raised to Heaven,
A silent prayer in her heart,
For Winter's sleep to lessen,
The pain she felt amid the cold,
The biting wind so cruel,
And please let not some human come,
And use her wood for fuel.
Then the winter queen looked down,
On Tree with sympathy,
And gave to her a lovely gown,
Of snow in symmetry.
Now the tree stands all adorned,
In glowing winter grandeur,
And all who see her stand in awe,
Of Tree in Winter's splendor.
Thanks to Phyllis Babcock for her poem "TREE" which inspired this one.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012
The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts
We know that a star-shaped flower
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder
A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly
An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness
Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
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 | Year Posted 2011
Passive and watching,
caught up in the crowd,
with chanting and torches,
all screaming so loud.
The wailing of women,
a pouting young child,
a rope o’er my shoulder,
eyes murderous and wild.
Hooded the ghouls,
in pristine white cloth.
Battered the young man,
in bloody red froth.
All this commotion
is horror and fright
The rope on my shoulder...
they’re drawing it tight.
Gasping and choking
and kicking of feet,
hollers and cheering,
the act is complete.
Oh, how did this happen?
It wasn’t to be.
I once was a poplar;
now the lynching tree.
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
Long ago I stood beneath a shady limb
And cried out, so heavy was my heart
Wondering if I had chosen wisely
Fear and uncertainty tearing me apart
It spoke to me in the rustling leaves
Stories of all the things that it had seen
How the years had honed its truths
The good, bad and the in-between
There was music in the swaying branch
There, cradled in a its peaceful grace
Came a quiet acceptance of life's path
And I wept in nature's sweet embrace...
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013
Each generation plants a tree
The next one enjoys the shade
Seeds we plant in young people's minds
Are engraved and will never fade
So choose your path very carefully
They're watching your every step
You might think they're too distracted
Or they think you're old and inept
They're always watching how you react
Each move that you choose to make
Be careful the seeds you sow every day
Will grow with them, make no mistake
The burden is on us for each generation
To guide them and show them the way
Map out the route to a happy life
Don't let anyone lead them astray
There'll be mine fields galore along the way
Protect them with words and with deeds
They'll love you for caring and taking the time
Encourage them to follow your lead
© Jack Ellison 2012
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013
Gusting winds whip through the air,
stripping leaves off trees clinging there.
And sunrays play hide-and-seek
behind darkening clouds, like children they peek.
Dear Lord, I love your crisp Fall days,
enjoying the sun's fast fleeting rays.
I laugh as gusts of wind push me along.
And I hear the howl in Autumn's song.
Black branches wait for quilts of white,
to cover them from the cold of night.
I shiver a little as I hurry home,
knowing in this, God's Day, there hides a poem.
Dedicated to my poetry friend, Viv Wigley
Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2015
Some take checkers seriously, so do I.
I recorded my games without fail,
in the little park located close by.
Listen closely, you will like my tale.
Under the umbrella of an old live oak
sits a stump about chair seat high.
Not many things in this life evoke
such comforting tears to my eye.
A marble statue now, cast in memory
with so many names, a number beside.
The board inlaid, made of emory, ivory,
cast by an artisan in loving pride.
The real stump looked much the same.
I would challenge all comers of any age.
No one but me ever lost a game.
Beating me was a neighborhood rage.
The checker board sat on the stump.
I would log each name and the score.
Allowing points for each kind of jump.
Soon the board back held no more.
The oldest challenger I had was ten.
The thing was, if they won I got a hug.
They knew I wouldn’t feel so bad then.
Once hooked, from then I had the bug.
Continuing as such in similar rendition,
‘Til came a letter from an art museum.
It spoke of a piece commissioned
by a local director of an atheneum.
Excited I walked to the old stump
looking for the name of the benefactor.
As I saw the name I felt my heart jump.
That small guy with the red toy tractor.
© Oct 26 2010 Charles Henderson 7 th in
Matt's "I fell in love with a tree stump" contest
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2010
The feel of bark under my nails
weak branches bend and groan,
determined, I reach for the top
then perch there, all alone.
The cleansing wind among the leaves
drowns every sound and thought
and blows away on blessed breathe
the “do’s” and “no, do not’s.”
Among the canopy of green
concealed from ground and men,
I cry and wish to fly away,
‘fore climbing down again.
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
I looked from left and then to right.
To find the perfect, Christmas Tree.
They all glowed with Heavenly light.
Still none of them appealed to me.
What did I want if not perfection?
As I looked at this Sea of green.
After a bit of contemplation.
There in the back was the one I seen.
A little bit bruised, laying on it's side
Kind of neglected, thrown away
Once I seen it my eyes opened wide
I brought it home for my Christmas Day
A Christmas Caroling Contest.
Written Dec 21, 2012
First attempt at this style ( at least knowingly)
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2012
None of us could swim, from the river we were banned
Not allowed near the water without an adult holding a hand
When the adults were busy we went to play
Of course to the river our thoughts oft did stray.
A tin bath we found much to our delight
It would make a good boat so try it we might.
We were not allowed swimsuits as none of us could swim
So it was down to our birthday suits then we jumped in.
We took it in turns to sail in the bath
We didn’t think then of our parent’s fears or wrath
My brother decided a new game to play
Who could capsize the bath best - and still get away?
What fun playing in the hours of illicit gaming.
Capsizing and spitting out water with no complaining.
All went well until I tipped the bath near the drinking tree root
They sucked up and grabbed the bath for a hoot.
I turned the bath over and fell from inside
The tree roots clawed at me from the surface trying to hide
The fingers of the tree reached for me, holding and pinning me tight
The air from my lungs all gone - I never thought I would see the light.
A gasp as air rushed in, I could breath, I could see
And there were my friends and siblings all clapping at me
I had put on a good "act" of drowning they said
I had not the heart to tell them I thought I was dead.
We rubbed ourselves down with our clothes and dressed quick
All crossing our hearts, we would never tell our trick
I remember so well the dark grasping water back then
I learnt to swim quick before I went there again.
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012
'Tis that time again to bedeck the tree with decorations!
Untangling the string of lights is one of my annual frustrations!
Naughty words are said but when all is said and done, you'll,
Happily declare that sans a Christmas tree it wouldn't be a Yule!
Placed No. 9 in Kim Merryman's "Here We Go A Caroling" Contest - January 2013
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012
I think that I shall never see
A man as useful as a tree.
The one has uses by the score;
The other one is apt to snore.
Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015
Sparkling, Sparkling, Christmas light,
I love the way you shine so bright,
Your radiance makes the room look fine,
which makes it better than the vine.
Blinking , blinking , as your leaves shine,
How sweet passion and love entwine,
Pretty display of green on tree,
Christ birth makes my heart feels so free.
CONTEST:"Nursery Rhyme" sponsored by Debra Squyres
Copyright © olusegun Arowolo | Year Posted 2013
black as night
floats above flames
spreads the fire
to dark desire
the nights are dark
with moonless skies
shadows see all
with empty eyes
make trees bare
the flame still burns
but the heats not there
meets hearts of frost
the burn feels sweet
but then it's lost
now hands of ash
reach out once more
for October Fire
as they did before
By Morgan Mise
Written April 25, 2012
Copyright © Morgan Mise | Year Posted 2013