Each of my limbs is meant for adorning
With beautiful lights and jolly decorations
Ribbons flow around me, never warning
This is the time when love touches in sensations
I still remember the joy of the squirrels and birds
When I lived in the forest, beside the oaks I love
For the ache in my heart, there are really no words
But I must sacrifice my quiet life for the One above
He is worth more than many of my green hands
I am only one of this Jesus’ many fans!
Life can be challenging for a Douglas fir,
especially one who lives on a tree farm.
I’m surrounded by Grand firs and Balsams,
who, unlike me, can support heavy ornaments.
They sneer at me and chant “light weight!”
I see a little lady talking to the farm owner.
She comes straight~~Oh, she’s talking to me!
She wants a lovely, light-green, fragrant tree
for her huge collection of light-weight ornaments.
This is going to be a great Christmas for us.
snow-swathed fir trees
glistening in the full moon glare...
in the silent night
December 11, 2022.
Teri Ma ko ma na kahun to kia kahun?
Teri behan ko baji ka darja dayta hun.
Chawal Khan meri behan kay taboot mein keel(maik)thook.
Tere sonay(gold)ko clean bold karun salay chilgozay.
Akhrot wali khopri kay malik karway badam.
Teray pistay mein daga mara pistA KARUN.
Abhay badmast haathi cucumber ki jhaag.
Teri shararton ko chingari bakshun to kia?
Sala 33 ki omar mein 18 kay badmash.
22 crore ki Abadi mein teri zaat ka aik nahi.
Iblees kay mureed surf ki jhaag kay bulbulay.
Teri pathan zaat ko afghanistan me drone karun.
Tera haath mangun rishta na mangun to kia?
Abhay electric shock kay shock walay jhatkay.
Fitay Mun teri gandi galeez ghatya soch pay.
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree,
Standing upright within my wood;
An innocent, then let me be.
Where now I thrive for all to see,
Strobilus stemmed out of the bud;
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree.
Today I prosper, living free,
As streaming sap spawns my lifeblood;
An innocent, then let me be.
Forever green and wild are we,
My friends and I'd age if we could;
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree.
The gentle breeze may hear my plea
And listen to me as it should;
An innocent, then let me be.
So, man is come to sever me,
To rob me of my livelihood.
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree
An innocent, then let me be.
Alan S Jeeves
On the tall table
Resides a small Christmas tree
With a Santa hat
When his eyes open to show
The vacant stare of plastic
Color me Douglas Fir Green;
I feel so feathery-branched.
My constitution is supreme;
My core competes with oaks.
I was built to last and stand tall;
I cannot say as well of cousin spruce.
Taken for granted;
the human species, mows me down;
I become boxes for habitation.
My strength is a human weakness;
Over time, I’ll disappear,
I must to shelter my nemesis.
The human species uses my kind;
we can’t defend against
their growling weapons.
Humans build deadly weapons,
They’ll eat right through my soul;
I am only a defenseless tree.
12-28-19
I am a tree Poetry Contest
Delilah Ventura
Snarled locks of black twisted fur
A fir away from where I stood
In the close air, it's stirring
No shelter from what's good
She looks to me with tired eyes
Inside are shades of countryside
The sand and rocks of which she spies
Into her, unto me, this world resides
What can one say to a wild thing?
Nothing is truly understood,
Yet we want for a song to sing,
Blurs the lines between bad and good
However close we're aiming to be
We can't be nearer to the meaning of free
Hot as fire, firm as fir.
That's what women would prefer.
Volodymyr Knyr
2017
At first sight of first snow colour
Scrapbook memories stir with folk within
Where spirits of love, caring, and sharing were
Whispers of our life we shared, brings wet tears that blur
Of the old farmhouse toasty and warm within-doors
Stipend oak wood was fed into its heart to burn
Fiery amber, yellow, and reds comforting flames would flicker
Crackling, sputtering sound of burning cinders
Wisps of oak mixed with ma’s cooking would journey
Shimmying up its way through the chimney
Outside world had been cloaked in a white glittery sheen
A heartwarming Snowman was always seen
Decked out in his red scarf and top hat beaming
By the front porch greeting passersby
Red Birds perched and rustle the winter evergreens
Conifer and denuded trees would unfurl a story book scene
We would peek out the window when pa honked the horn
On his 1940s green worn out pickup to warn
He was back with a fresh cut noble fir for Christmas morn
11/28/2016
Your Christmas fir was small and new,
When planted in the ground for you;
Once potbound, then its roots were free.
You stroked its branches, cuddled me:
I thought it felt like déjà vu.
I watched it as it slowly grew,
Though evergreen, its air was blue,
Not happy as it used to be,
Your Christmas fir.
Your love was dying, yes, I knew,
But what was I supposed to do?
Each time we fought, so sad to see,
All seemed reflected in the tree;
It turned to brown when we were through,
Your Christmas fir.
*The fir I'd planted started off well, but soon looked sorry for itself, and died after the relationship ended
scent of fir on breeze..
quiet rustle in bushes
rabbit blends with snow
snap of broken branch
snow drifts down to forest floor...
sleeping bear stretches
For Charles' haiku contest
Below a Douglas Fir tree one beautiful moonlit night
I sat there with my Missy as we viewed a lovely sight
The aurora borealis was lighting up the sky
Then something to my right suddenly caught my eye
A gem from outer space tore across the cobalt blue
Leaving behind a trail a quite spectacular view
Two in trapped capture witnessing a shooting star
We wonder where it came from, out there from afar
We sat there for ages chatting about the sight we seen
Phenomena such as this are generally seen in dreams
Below the Douglas Fir tree that beautiful moonlit night
We marvelled at it's arrival as it disappears from sight
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-13.php
I watch the clouds
Curling in the sky
Taking on new shapes
Reflecting on my eyes.
I smile, feel the wind,
pass on through me,
It's gonna take me away
Carry me out to sea.
You're laying next to me,
You will not get up.
I sit and pet your hair,
Your eyes are shut.
I wish they would open
But you're far off gone.
I wish you could see this,
See my sweet song.
Maybe if it's loud,
And flys on up there,
Maybe you can hear it,
Where the angels sit and stare.
Don’t you see,
A battle rages
Away above the grasses
The mighty trees throw spears of air
And bend to dodge the blades
Or cones where thrown by lordly pines
As cut by edges hewn like hands;
These lush and greening splays
Appendages of bows
The warriors, donned of moss and fir
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