Best Silver Birch Poems


Premium Member Sick Old Bird: Collaboration

There once was a cranky old parrot
who had all the charms of a ferret.
She went to great ends
to get rid of friends
and now lives in a draft-y garret.

The draft made her sicker and sicker
which caused her to bicker and bicker.
She tried writing verse
which made matters worse
so that she would bicker much quicker!

She couldn't stop coughing and wheezing.
Her vanity there was no pleasing.
The truth of her curse
was no gift for verse
which she blamed on all of the breezing.

This made her get tougher and tougher.
Her verses got rougher and rougher.
She wouldn't stop writing,
but kept on delighting
in making the whole country suffer.

BY DALE GREGORY COZART

The parrot soon dropped off her high perch
From the top of an old silver birch
Now she’s no longer squawking
And her husband is walking
To see the old bird buried in church!

BY JAN ALLISON

Premium Member The Beauty of Subtleties

the beauty of subtleties

there are one thousand shades of grey
each separate and distinct
across this desert month.

low gravid clouds puffed,
like the breasts of flocking doves
touch the earth transforming 
to pearlescent, pale white gauze
caught in reaching branches.

steely water on the bay,
life sheltered far below,
rolls smooth as oil swells
dappled with foam.

ancient almost-dust leaves 
kick up on my boot toe
as I scuffle through the wood
between beach and silver birch.

an owls lonely cry echoes
as it brushes by overhead
softsilent perhaps hunting
field mice or rabbits

November is gentle 
in its iron frosts.   calm, still, 
as though waiting
a canvas barely sketched upon.

White

It`s peace in the forest, this night…
All stars gathered in the same breath;
The frost`s wolf chatters his white teeth;                                                   
 Mourning old trees are all covered by light;
The wind increased his obsessive white;
Neighbors: the snowmen and a glass stag 
When night is finally waving its white flag,
Dreams are hanged by luminous white of the height.

Winter buried its face in frozen white lands,       
Long Snow drifts grew like glass clouds above       
And covered the village and half of the church;    
Sun seems a squeezed lemon by white hands.                                                 
Milk dawns, glass blower speaks slowly of love;     
White field sounds with crows near one silver birch.


Haiku Birch

single silver birch
overlooks the whitened head stones
priest in black waiting.

Mean Time

The nights are long, the weather drear,
An eastern wind blows cold and keen –
This is the mean time of the year.

The clock’s go back and winter’s here. 
Grey skies : the sun is seldom seen,
The nights are long, the weather drear.

Season of misty atmosphere,
Forgotten days that might have been.
This is the mean time of the year

When falling leaves will disappear
To leave a stark skeletal scene.
The nights are long, the weather drear.

The weeping willow sheds a tear
And silver birch looks lank and lean –
This is the mean time of the year.

Long icicles on roofs appear
Like gnashing teeth – a monster, mean.
The nights are long, the weather drear,
This is the mean time of the year.
© Mike Jones  Create an image from this poem.

My Garden

Looking out upon my garden on spring morning 
dew on grass, new shoots appearing natures best 
daffodils, tulips, primrose, beautiful new life dawning 
pollinators emerge collecting pollen after winter rest 
evergreens coordinate with shade loving flowers 
finding shelter in herbaceous borders, glorious 
thoughts, aromas, wildlife reproducing new life 
shafts of light creating shadows, expecting showers 
seasons of change, pleasant celestial rays notorious 
for encouraging wonderful blooms and loosestrife, 

my old garden swing so inviting, comfortable perch 
to rest my weary bones upon while my eyes delight 
at natures wonders, shaded by my giant silver birch 
potted Japanese acer so elegant sweetness and light 
return of perennials as Mother Earth becomes warmer 
sweet smelling Lavender, colourful penstemon, 
sun loving helenium, gorgeous variegated geraniums 
bursting into life invigorating garden transformer 
rainbows of colour from blues yellows to salmon 
old English roses perfume able to fill stadiums 

so joyful now my garden is in bloom colourful and bright
with aromas from honeysuckle and Jasmine at night.

Composed on 02/04/2017.
Contest ode to flowers.
© Roy Pett  Create an image from this poem.


The Forest

The Forest

The forest never 
asks where it is
it always knows the way
be like the forest
You'll find me in the forest 
Beneath the silver birch tree
With ribs in weaves of primrose
And stomach in knots of heather
What beauty today
In a land such as this,
Spinning blue skies
Dizzy from twirling leaves,
Stars in the water
Shining like sunken treasure,
Loose trees shifting
And dripping warm sun down their backs,
And everything, everything alive.
What beauty today,
In this land
Like a steady stream
That trickles through the forest,
I will persevere. 
Though my journey is unknown,
I know I’ll reach the ocean.
Magnificent leaves
Beautiful tall pines and oaks
Mysterious, Dark
In this wild resplendent place
ferns unfurl softly green
below bearded mossy trees
rain falls, birds call, echoing
sound of deep forest 
breathing
Its wild in here
yet so peaceful
your love has made a forest out of me
You are the forest
that I'm willing to explore even at the most dangerous and darkest area.
Just to discover 
your beauteous mysteries.
As the wind blows
through the desolate trees
of a forbidden forest
and the falling of the leaves
is all that can be heard
everything stands, still
there is no time
only peace
Adventure has started
you have to capture my heart,
i will be running ,
so begin the hunt.
Be careful to choose the right path,
my forest is enchanted,
you might fall into a trap.
pick a weapon for this fight,
you must be cautios,
don't let me out of your sight.
i'll be hiding somewhere far,
watch your moves,its dangerous,
i could leave you a scar.
i think you have a chance to win,
just let your mind run wild
and keep your heart clean.
Love,is like a forest,
so big, mystifying, and enchanting,
yet,so evil, dark, and dangerous.
Life,is like a tree in a forest,
one out of many but individually beautiful, with
amazing aspects,yet,ordinary, overpowering, or underwhelming.
Friendship,like a branch on the tree.
a part that makes something, different,
and wonderful,yet,differing, imperfect, and vast.
We are a part of the forest.
In the forest of hope,
One will find tranquility, prosper, and love,
In the forest of hope,
One is all and all is one.
In the forest of doubt,
One will find hostility, failure, and evil,
In the forest of doubt,
One is none and none is one.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran

Silver Birch

Tall, slender, supermodel tree,
elegant trunk dappled silvery milk.
Waif-like leaves dance in the breeze, 
flirt and flutter,  a skirt of silk. 

Arms reach skyward, lean and long,
slim limbs  covering sylph-like form.
Sinewy shoulders,  but still strong,
stoop and sway in the surging storm. 

Birds, taking cover, settle light,
build their nests and sing their songs,
squirrels scurry to highest height,
survey their kingdom, where they belong.

What tales could you tell, towering tree,
of flora, fauna, humans too?
What wisdom will you share with me?
I will listen with respect for you. 

Ruth Mawdsley
September 2019

A Melting Morning

It snowed heavily in Ireland for the past month and just last week the thaw set in 
and I wrote this poem.......




After the thaw
birds swim the sky
exuberant
warmed by a light drizzle 
falling on pear coloured fields
they drink in a saturated land




Gliding from cedar to spruce
great canopies of army green,
the gulls alight from a satin sky
to branches covered in lichen
where pistachio ivy clings




Sweeping over a shrouded sea
liquorice birds blot the view.
as blackbirds gather
on the arching limbs
of a ivory silver birch
rejoicing
in a melting morning
© Eiken Laan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Magical Moment

Motionless, the tree stands proudly,
Water droplets hang, like diamonds shine,
I shut out the birds calling loudly,
This magical moment is only mine.
The fog's lifted gently rolled away,
Bejewelled the tree shimmers there,
The sun dances, making rainbows play
Around the branches leafless and bare.

I catch my breath at the sheer beauty,
This precious moment makes me stop,
No other thoughts, or deeds, or duty,
Suspended, just like each water drop.
I gaze in awe and silent wonder,
This moment I know is heaven sent,
Often too busy, my work does plunder
Time; my appreciation does prevent.

The sun grows brighter, warmer, stronger,
The spectrums' rays intensify,
The vision holds just a moment longer,
Then like a dream it fades, and I
Am looking at the Silver Birch,
A lovely tree, but just a tree,
The moment's over that made my heart lurch,
The magic's gone; sadly I am set free.

Fly Away Ladybird - Free Verse Contest

How about some free verse
That’s what Kim is asking for
Whatever my heart desires
What more could I ask, I know

Love maybe, so over subscribed
Nature is the same, hmm
How about the red ladybirds
In my garden they have  a home

Did you know that from 2 spots 
To 22 are on this little bug
Love to see them when in flight
When sent home with a shake

In my eyes she is a friend
Welcome whenever she likes
Making sure a silver birch
In the garden is kept just as she wants.

“Fly away ladybird
Fly away home.
Your house is on fire 
 your children are none”

Penned  28 May 2013

Premium Member - Mournful -

Everything that time or tide may tell
           a silver birch rise in an azure sky
           Moonbeam with its wrinkles and dry mouth
           captivated by the mournful music

           The perception of something eternal
           is in itself a utopia  - 
           but an encouragement on a cloudy day

           Don't tear up the roots or retouch the story
           An eternal escape as the waves
           Morals and principles despite the prize
           The traces of a heart that sought balm
           will be buried in the underworld forever



           17.03.2023
           Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
           Copyright © All Rights Reserved

           - 'M' Words - Poetry Contest
           Sponsored by: Constance La France
           1st place in the contest

The Silver Birch

The white leather creaks
As damp pith breathes 
Thin and strong
Against a solemn sky. 

As branches again take
Punishment from northern winds
The trunk stands firm
Steeling itself for the assault ahead. 

Straight despite the brutish
Harsh and relentless gusts
The leather flakes and peels
Like a snake shedding skin. 

Ready for the new birth
Another year is coming
A cycle of the earth and sun,
Rain, wind, snow, all will befall it. 

Evermore the silver birch
A symbol of strength through adversity
Stands tall with smoke like branches
Ready to add another ring to its life.

Bluebells

In April time a sea of blue,
A fragrant carpet 'tween the trees
Transforms the ancient woodland view

The silver birch and oak and yew
Have bright green growth as Spring decrees,
In April time a sea of blue

Saplings sailing on a sea of blue,
Their rigging waving in the breeze
Transforms the ancient woodland view

For centuries bluebells would strew
The forest floor and woodland leaze,
In April time a sea of blue

These fragrant flowers bedecked with dew,
Sparkling like waves upon the seas
Transforms the ancient woodland view

Alas, it's time to bid adieu
And leave the flowers to bumble bees.
In April time a sea of blue
Transforms the ancient woodland view
© Mike Jones  Create an image from this poem.

A Haiku Anthology - Trees

leaf litter
posted each autumn-
tree greetings

trees laid bare
exposed each autumn-
squirrels dreys

treecreeper
on woodland depends-
small copses

tulip trees
rosewood mahogney-
history

monkey trees
evergreen woonders-
enigmas 

tinder bark
silver birch paper—
woodsmen know

sycamore
an old invader—
summer shade

proud and tall
not phased by winter—
Norway spruce

the mighty
oaks home to many—
oceans sailed

bare scratches
spring sap sweet tasty—
trees bleed too

winter storm
trees turn to whistles—
squirrels dance


leaf litter
the spoils of autumn—
the trees rest

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