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

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Details | Narrative |


Oh sanguine

lost hopes



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



each ornament renewed 

james marshall goff

Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2009

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 | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet |

Tree of Life

The tree of life grows limbs above,
Its strength began in roots of love...
Each limb's branches may grow apart
Yet venture not far from its heart.

Concentric circles share great worth
In trials it has endured since birth,
Having weathered many a storm
Defined by bent or twisted form.

Still beauty reigns throughout the years
In steadfast growth with hopes and fears,
As earthlife seasons come and go
A will to carry on and know,

Though treasured limbs may break and die,
Newest growth reaches for the sky.
Seedlings will spread, divine and free...
In honor of the mother tree.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |

One Liners III - Family Tree

As I climb my family tree, each distinct leaf touches me with life's beauty.

(written 12/7/15 for Silent One's One Liners Three Contest)

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme |

The Dying Tree

in the gutters-
and on the streets-

Wasted beauty-
and brilliance-
at our feet-

a tree-
broken roots-

they fall-
like autumn

of a dying
family trees-

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2008

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 | Year Posted 2011

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

Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

My Family

my family tree - nurtured, supportive Banyan roots stay firm beneath Strong branches stretch out, colouring a billion leaves - and those billion lives. United we stand, not by blood… but loyalty. Vasudev Kutumb.
'Vasudev Kutumb', in Sanskrit, means 'The world is our family'. For the contest 'My Family' Sponsor: Marvin Celestial N/A

Copyright © Sneha RV The Literature Lover | Year Posted 2016

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 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 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 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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2011

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 | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku |


Limbs of trees branching separate yet together lives entwined by birth ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written 2-13-2016 Entwined Contest by Broken Wings Fifth Place ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright © Susan Gentry | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

The Bending Tree

"Guts and gain trap your more likely to stand on the hill"
a tree that's now the oldest of ten has become so weathered and oddly thin
but blood continues to flow in every scratched and surface of my skin

Once a growing seedling no weeds would dare crawl in and a stone was cast a back
all my little saplings would love me under the shade like a small animal pack
they knew I would always kneel over them with no form of slack

My branch is starting to bend but calm I stay rooted looking up at the dawn
at ease with a gentle wind my soil now lumpy and dry
no one comes with water to rest my troubled soul or even a word of good-by

You see, sometimes you give and sway no matter the need or strain
but when this old tree is bending low and money is no longer a flow
just a whisper upon my ear gives me the honor for a new branch I may grow.

T Reams   9/9/2015  Contest sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
    Placed 7th                                        'Who do you think I am'

Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The Family Tree

The Family Tree

The Family Tree has arm, that stretch out far and wide,
From each arm stems a legacy, which can never be denied,
Also affixed, are veined leaves, with DNA inside!

Tab labels index the status, of ones’ lineage, 
Relationships, births and deaths, all captured in the images,
With heredity from Mom and Dad, adding to the percentages!

The trunk supports the body, of the Family Tree,
Its’ strong base houses layers, each one with its own beauty,
A pillar of strength on display, a sight for all to see!
There’s knowledge, skills and wisdom, deep inside its roots,
Nourished by culture and history, of it ancestral fruits,
And at the top of the Family Tree, sits the Patriarch all astute!   

Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 12/12/15

Copyright © Sarita Milliner | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


a thriving ploom in the garden of life
waving in the cool breezes overhanging a cliff
roots embedded in the continent of Africa
branching into Europe, Asia and the Americas

through misguided uncompromising fallacies
some of my branches have lost their leaves in the canopies
my beautiful human fruit have become so rotten
to show any taste of love between themselves forbidden
consequently they’ve become shrivelled and dry
self condemned to die...why?

I’ve been through many-a-forest fires
that have wiped out entire species when times were dire
perhaps I’ve grown too tall for my own branches
because war prunes them into their own dark dug trenches

so as my tops suffocate
in the thinned poisoned undercurrent
collapsing under political instability and overpopulation
disease and lack of absolution
my own weight supported
I’m cultivated
for industry
but oddly enough not forestry
watered by oil
then set alight to boil

to bear evil seeds
by artificial means like weeds
exposure from too much sun
a mutilated son
capable of matricide to shovel
my severed lifecycle

my soul died a thousand years ago
I now only exist in the soil of man’s ego
as he climbs higher
I freeze in the winter
my shade is nothing if not colder
each day he becomes defiant and bolder

black or white
wrong or right
day or night
dim or bright
dark or light
to the lumberjack
we’re one trunk


Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


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

21 February 2013

Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2012

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 | Year Posted 2011

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 | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

Our Holiday Home

Christmas boxes full of memories down from the attic they come
The house was so quiet 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 | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |

Branches of Family

Young and sprouting like a twig, Branches to come to observe when big. From roots of parent trees long ago, The families begin to grow. Siblings blossom from the branch I'm on, With cousin branches a-blooming along. Memorable times with them together Seem to end as life changes like the weather. Branches separate to a new direction, With a mate for a branch of creation. Some family removed as the Lord hath planned, From our tree to place in His hands. Over my shoulder, my children branching out, I was getting older, for sure, no doubt. A desire to keep the tree from falling apart, As branches get higher, a reunion must start. So happy inside as family branches attend, A tree's gentle glide swaying in the wind. I'll be happy knowing when I leave the tree, It'll keep growing--the Branches of Family! Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2011

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 | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku |

the tree

the tree
brightly lit for comfort 
no presents exchanged

Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2011

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 | Prose |

Our Family Tree

Spreading up through history
Budding off new members like leaves
Hoping to make it through seasons
Middle age
And the cold of winter
With white hair on our heads like snow
Until we fall to the ground 
And join our roots
In the ground below

Copyright © Alex Roberson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Under a Willow Tree

Under a willow tree summer’s wind blows.				
Skies darken like the depths of the deep sea.		
I lay quietly as so no one knows,		
Watching nightlife emerge as daytime flees.		

Flickering lights illuminate the night.
The soft chirps of crickets under my shoe		
Where flowers rest in the palm on my right
A bouquet for my mother to find a new.

As if the ring never left her finger
A pot of flowers planted in its place
Or shaped into a bracelet lingered
With me she will stay beneath this glass case

     Under a willow tree time frozen
     A home where happy thoughts are chosen.

Copyright © Erin Lynch | Year Posted 2015