Best Trees Poems
the lullaby of butterflies hums
in the early morning air.
a rounded light of gold
above the purple clouds
spots a blue filtered peak.
trees unite as one in the constant drizzle of rain.
flowers wild, spill in colors hurried
to fill barren ground.
mammals of every kind lay unseen,
asleep and covered in blankets green.
and I wonder,
I wonder who,
who would nullify?,
this bouquet...
of sweetly scented
awes!
With Love
22~12~2014
I've heard your whispers
in quiet moments
amongst the shedding trees of Autumn..
I walk alone our wooded path – listening
the air just as crisp as a bright-blushed Winesap
but my tears not as sweet – glistening
the wispy whispers haunting
taunting in their gentle tug
and I wonder; how easily the golden leaves let go..
with barely a breath of wind’s soft persuasion
they fall away from boughs
each descending like a fated swan
gliding circling fluttering to their end with a taffeta crinkle -
the crinkle reminiscent of a shy fire’s crackle
as they settle and nestle on the forest floor
I remember how we settled and nestled
on the rug before the fire’s supple tongues
home-made hard cider filled our mugs
made from untamed fruits
of wild trees
our flame untamed and wild too
when we were ginger-kissed
and the taste of your lips saturated mine
besotted with our nectar-like love
till satisfied cinders in the hearth serenely died..
I walk alone now with falling leaves
was it Fall who taught you how to let go so gracefully
while October’s wind trembled aspens like harp strings..?
I hear a thousand golden whispers of love
amongst the shedding trees of Autumn.
Susan Ashley
August 27, 2022
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Contest No 1178
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 13
Sponsor: Mark Toney
*Winesap: an American heirloom apple that ripens in October with a bright/dark red skin, a crisp texture, is aromatic and has a sweet-tart taste. Winesaps get their name due to their distinctive spicy wine-like flavor. Great for hard cider!
Photo: CU Denver News; 2020 Guide to Fall Foliage
A path strewn thick with ruddy-faced leaves
led to nowhere and everywhere in fantasies,
our near-death rescue from boredom
come afternoon chores and homework pages
wrinkled in time.
I try to recall all I tried to forget.
Back home, under the willow trees, I weep
for childhood, friendship,
for innocence surrendered,
all I thought I could keep, fuzzy lines
between love and loss,
practical days that come with age.
I close my eyes to see through tears -
you, a dance in rain showers, oval-spheres
of costume jewelry, tea parties and dragons slain
rays of sunlight climbed,
imagination uncaged,
carefree hours,
diamonds in darkness,
restless dreams fell like leaves
on youth's horizon of trees and flowers.
Two kids set free in skies shaded gray -
we said forever, a pinky swear I remember,
naïve in make-believe worlds. How many years
passed by, miles kept between you and I?
A phone call once-in-a-while reminded
of our bitter, listless eyes,
our disappointment in distant words.
I hope you always knew the truth,
I loved you, dear friend.
It was myself, I hated.
Time cradled our laughter,
held it on the breeze,
childhood secrets
shared with ease on our path,
thick with summer's dead leaves.
We, too young to notice,
fell into brittle leaves
trodden bare
before first snow.
Our laughter now echoes in dreams,
chaffing our willow trees
still sulking low,
moss brushes away tears in timeless beauty,
and waits for you to come home.
An old poem, revised 3/15/17
249 words total
Nestling in my realm, as you host a daydream,
Reveling in breeze of my splendor evergreen,
I welcome you to my domain of rhythmic trills
Where roam the blue jays, robins, and crossbills
Feeding on berries, frolicking with hatchlings,
Singing gaily, serenading benevolent sanctuary
Amid bears’ huff, growl, and foxes’ feral-howl
Sheltered amicably from dry heat and rainfall;
Where trees reduce pollution, boost air quality,
Emit oxygen you breathe, by photosynthesis,
Bear flowers, fruits, nurturing your well-being
Temper climate cheerily, swaying with winds,
Hold soil in place, reducing runoff to streams
Protecting elixir of life in rivers and tributaries;
While you find balance in sanctity and peace,
Enlightened by whispers rustling in harmony,
That warn of deforestation ruining ecosystem,
And callousness that torches wildlife and trees;
Yet, I rise from ashes sprouting earth’s tranquility
For I am the forest of goodwill and sublimity,
Adorning every season, standing for you firmly,
Hosting you as you rejoice in salutary daydream.
May 22, 2022
Poem of the day on May 24, 2022
Placed 1st: Wisdom From Trees Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
I know the land where the lemon-trees flower.
My love met me near them, to linger an hour.
I kissed him, I hugged him and smelled the sweet scent,
And prayed it stayed with him, wherever he went.
The day was so perfect, the skies were so blue.
The fragrance entrancing and love was so new.
He broke off a blossom and gave it to me,
And promised his love for an eternity.
My friends were so happy to plan bridal showers
And my wedding bouquet was of lemon-tree flowers.
Written 7/15/ 18
Sponsor; Julia Ward
Contest "Pretty Poem, Please
The maracas of leafy trees
whisper rhythms to the wind,
a quiet song of December.
Four days---- left to go---
till the year ends,
and time spills forward,
its hands brushing past us,
softly, relentless.
You and I,
counting moments,
the weight of years
settling like dew-----light, inevitable
somethings are done, a lot many left undone
but the ceaseless march of time moves forward.
But here in the enchanting garden,
under the sun’s gentle gaze,
age is a story written in roots and petals,
a bench painted green with memories
What is there to grieve,
when old feels like this-----
and life hums softly
in the company of trees?
"A woodland path in the dappled sun, hushed and quiet "
~A Rambling Poet~
A canopy of trees
filters the sun for me,
and I am grateful...
For I do not feel like
having the rays glare
in my eyes today,
in a brooding mood I am.
The earth is damp,
drunken with dew,
seemingly commiserating
with me
I lay myself down,
jagged rocks beneath me
--cutting, rough--
and I welcome it
For it grounds me,
a reminder
that not everything
is sunlight and blooms
I sink in my darkness
and close my eyes
to dwell in it and drown,
just sighing
For an eternity,
I am mired with
muck and moss in my mind,
thoughts eroding
to nothingness
...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment
The trees above me
stand tall and proud
in their radial glory,
the sun just
breaking through,
shimmering, dappling
my cold being
Leaves gilt with light
blink back in awe
and I am floored,
blanketed by warmth
of hushed spirits
surrounding me
These trees
tell their tales
of growth and survival,
of yearning for
that light,
of their struggle
to catch a glimpse
of heaven...
of capturing
its light,
using it,
feeding off from it,
in order to
give back to others
some of them stumble
yet most of them
succeed
I am humbled.
I am awed.
Yes, the canopy
gave me shade,
temporary darkness
from the light,
I look up again
and realize
that the tiniest
pinholes of hope exist,
reaching deep within...
little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life
--June 11-12 (2011)
The Land Where the Lemon-Trees Flower
I know the land where the lemon-trees flower,
where citrus fragrance lingers after a summer shower.
In sun-sweetened India, lemon-trees radiantly bloom,
flourishing unfazed by tropical monsoon’s gloom.
Glistening with dew drops, greeting each sunrise,
lemon-trees thrive beneath heaven's azure skies.
Exquisite five-petaled flowers of white,
blossom singly or in clustering delight.
Enticing like swirling girls in silky saris,
they’re as enchanting as woodland fairies.
Glistening with dew drops, greeting each sunrise,
lemon-trees thrive beneath heaven's azure skies.
I know the land where the lemon-trees flower,
where valleys are verdant and the Himalayas tower.
Misty mornings yield to golden sunshine,
and the cool ice-pink of twilight glows divine.
Glistening with dew drops, greeting each sunrise,
lemon-trees thrive beneath heaven's azure skies.
Sri Lakshmi blessed it with her sacred hand,
waving her lovely lotus over this fertile land;
where princely proud peacocks strut arrogantly,
and lush lemon-trees bear fruit abundantly.
Glistening with dew drops, greeting each sunrise,
lemon-trees thrive beneath heaven's azure skies.
07-12-2018
Awarded Poem of the Day 07-14-2018
Note: Sri Lakshmi – Hindu goddess of wealth, abundance, prosperity, love,
and beauty
Enhanced by peaceful solitude, in twilight, crimson crowned
She stood in tensile grace, unmoved. Enchantment in disguise
Lightly splashed by back light, where the tender grass had grown
A white tailed doe, was grazing there, aware and keen of eye
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet, still she had not flown
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?
Or take a step, in chance my foot might rustle twig or loam?
This stance of wills,...intense and poised. Would she dare to flee?
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet still she had not flown
A monumental moment, as she stood before my eyes
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down
There, in tensile grace she stood, enchantment in disguise
Caressed in beauty, and sun embraced, revealed for me alone
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down
Eyes made of glass, as windows are, in which the iris tongue
We made no move...each one transfixed, no air in lungs to breathe
So inter-laced, with life force crossed, in universal one
Our spirits twined against the sky, beneath the copper trees
____________________________________________________________
Trees
Trees, trees, everywhere, and no one stops to think
What we may lose as all mankind nears a crucial brink.
When oaks and elms and other trees just simply cease to be,
Less Oxygen will be sent into the air we breathe.
Where will be the majesty of mighty cypress trees,
That pose in stately beauty for all the world to see?
What will be the price we pay if, someday, they’re all gone,
And we are left here breathless to, somehow, carry on?
The life of trees can be started by Mother Earth herself,
Or, sometimes, by some gardener in a pot upon a shelf.
Regardless, how they’re started, we need to wonder why
These beauties of creation are called upon to die.
Redwoods and sequoias that grace our western shore
Stand as mighty icons that we dare not ignore.
When left to die by nature’s plan I believe that you will see
They will outlive mortal man by at least a century.
To those who say God meant for man to use them as we need
I don’t believe He meant decisions to be governed by our greed.
I will not be labeled as a ‘tree hugger’ – not by any measure.
I’ll just continue speaking out for mankind’s silent treasure.
Written By John Posey
07/08/13
The mountains call out to the sun
Wherever you look, you will see me
Blanketed in emerald, azure and amber
Clothing worthy of a king’s wardrobe
The sun caresses the mountains
With a sensitive warming ambiance
Whispers of sweet, soothing, captivating
Love songs that keep tune with the breeze
The wind whistles a cheerful welcome
To the trees that seem rigid and afraid
So uncertain of the season’s they live in
Will tomorrow bring them to a dying place?
Wild flowers hold their tiny heads high above
The green floor that grows into their feet
Shy and timid, they cause the heart of the butterfly
To flutter along the edges of their whimsical fingers
Birds of every color and type echo through the limbs
That are the living rooms of these gentle fowl
Who dress in brilliant reds, blues and yellows
Awaiting the moment when the tides turn them south
Wild animals caress the carpet with their fingernails
Arms and legs alive with a sense of joyful excitement
Sharing their stories with the knowledge that they must hide
From the howling, weeping, screaming forest thunder
Escaping from the crash of lightning glow on the trees
A vicious and furious strike from the Creator’s hand
The squirrel, raccoon and deer all gather around one
Single pine with its needle fingers entwined to cover them
From the mountains and valleys there comes assurance
That tomorrow will bring with it a wonderful endurance
Brought about by faith in the One who gave the life to
Each of these glorious reasons for adoring His nature
Seems to me the more I age
My fondness for trees only grows
Their resilience and gracefulness
Their symmetry and beauty
Their arms outstretched heavenward
As if asking to be blessed with a nest for life
But it’s the way they bravely face each season
No fanfare just day by day
Making the most of their assets
Offered freely to all taking the time to appreciate
Every gnarly curve earned though hardship
Broken branch and injury
Radiant in the sun Solemn by moonlight
Valiant through the rainstorm
Resolute against snow and sleet
Naked… Buds… Foliage… Dried falling leaves
And naked again the cycle regenerates itself
Such is life on this beautiful planet
AP: 1st place 2022, 2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2024, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on August 29, 2018 for contest END AUGUST 2018 STANDARD sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
So strange this land, old and yet young.
Where is this place of tall green trees,
and grey-haired men in unknown tongue?
they must have traveled summer's breeze.
Adobe brick quonset "chalets"
mud-soaked roadways in all the blocks.
WACs and wives and waifs everyday
midst hollyhocks and four o'clocks.
Los Alamos*, this place must be.
A land of Oz 'neath bluest sky.
Where science dealt humanity
a fatal blow, then watched it die.
A perfect paradox is this.
How splendid to contrast the two--
a lovely place/a devil's kiss,
and wisdom sprinkled like the dew.
I left quite soon but still recall
the secrets hidden on each page.
The lilac mountains looming tall,
their perfume of fission and sage.
August 5, 2022
"Terra Incognita"
for This or That, Vol. 13, poetry contest
by Edward Ibeth
*Los Alamos Laboratories, New Mexico, are where the atomic bombs were
created then dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan in WWII.
The tree that held the forbidden fruit
Held our destiny within its root
The ancient secrets that it kept
May hold the tears that the willow wept
The tree that holds the robin's nest
Holds life most precious, it is blessed
The tree from which nightingales sing
Holds the melody until spring
But the tree that I will forever miss
Is the tree under which we kissed
So long ago our hearts did leap
With sweet caress and passions deep
The tree where hearts will meet in bliss
Is the tree that holds tomorrow's kiss
Written by: Joseph May
three
trees drop
scarlet laced
marmalade leaves
maple sheen spilling
on burgundy meadows
where tart October winds
swirl with sharp colors
yellow limbs fade
drowsy gray
awaits
May
9/11/21
Merse - Beauty of Fall contest
Confirmed the syllable count on howmanysyllables.com