Poplar Tree Poems | Examples

Flower Garden

In hay-sweet evening air, crimson reds dotted around.  Beautiful scented flowers on the ground.
The poplar tree sways in the summer grace, it's such a heavenly place.
Swathes of bluebells thick and long.  I can hear the birds flutter, in a whirl of colour as they sing their song.  Reds and yellows in the trees, such a beautiful breeze.  As summer races away.

Exquisite ecosystems buzzing with amazing creatures.  Mother nature adores all
her unique features.  Viridescent  trees accommodate colourful birds.  Scented flowers smile while enamanting love. They blossom with help from above, as summer races away.

Like a Poplar Tree

Alone I'm standing; a tall poplar tree
With many of my kind alongside me
All standing here in solidarity 
Together as one when we need to be. 

There are times when we need to be alone 
To enjoy the deep bliss of solitude 
For any wrongdoings we must atone 
Pay your debts to others; peace is assured.

Be like that tall tree as you live your life
By helping others to nurture and grow
And protect all the young from earthly strife
From within your heart you can make it so.

So stand tall and proud majestically 
Being part of the forest when needs be.




Written on 17th September 2020.

Work In Progress

A young man I used to be
As I muse beneath this poplar tree
We are dust and nothing more
Exiles from a distant shore
A fallen leaf from the tree of life
Given to excess and so easy to entice

The tree I knew no longer there
The hilltop wooded now stands bare
I will weep so no one can see
The pain that lays inside of me
Forgive me sir and if you could
Leave me to disappear into these woods
That no longer stand but in my mind
Are unaffected by the sands of time

I will no longer speak your name
Or call out to you in vain
Let me rest under this tree
Let me pretend that I am free
I need nothing but time to think
To hold a rock and let me sink
Into the waters of my mind
Away from the holy divine

I am a man and nothing more
An exile from a distant shore

Summer Music

SUMMER MUSIC

                    a morning bird
             singing in a poplar tree
                comments endlessly


                  her happy chatter
        riding a warm southern breeze
                  has no winter in it


                   prelude to rapture
              spring’s brief recitative
            then sweet summer music

                      
                        Dve Austin

Old Trees

The brush which paints the sky each day
Has also drawn the distant hills
Where many flowers bloom in May
And nature offers verdant thrills. 

A playful child once sought the shade
Of an old oak and poplar tree;
He’s the same man who craves the glade
Once his mundane ambitions flee. 

He walked through life while chasing dreams
Which all belonged to other men. 
Now that his time has passed, he seems
Inclined to be a child again. 

He often walks in his old age
And stops for rest upon the bench
Where, once, his dreams were set to stage
And leafy shade his troubles quenched. 

His hurried years have passed away
And the old trees are all that’s left. 
He weeps and wants another May
When a small child in their shade slept.

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com

Teenage Dream

I dream this everlasting dream
Where I am her and she is she
We're so much younger than we seem
Completely alive in the audience of we

She is the senior captain of the soccer team
I'm just a little nerd who wonders what she sees
She makes me feel like I'm living in a dream
We share forbidden kisses in a poplar tree

We hide away inside ourselves every day at school
We steal our hearts in the halls with every coded glance
They would all make fun of us, the sinner and the fool
But we would be untouchable, cause we'd know how to dance

I would let her lead, be my homecoming queen
I would be her trophy for all her friends to see
She would be my guiding light, and I would be her heart
She would lift me up and together we'd be free

But this is just a dream that will never really be
I am just a girl who never had her teenage dream
This is not my memory, just wanted you to see
What I think of every night as I drift off to sleep

Ballad of the Poplar

Tall and magnificent is poplar tree
But about its visage is something eerie
Poplar sways in the wind nearby a great sea
Poplar is tall but can’t reach the edge of sky anymore than to see

Past the great sea
Sea
It is very big sky goes for infinity
Yet in this lost cause I admire poplars beauty

Wind blows through poplar tree
And that is what one day will allow it to see
Far past the sky and the sea
To view time but not one known to you and me

The time seen by poplar tree
Is echo that only divine counterbalance can allow one to see
This time is like the wind of destiny
Far past infinity or continuity 

That wind knows what meaning of life is to be
And any other question of philosophy
It can answer what is beyond philosophy
And because of it my soul looking at poplar tree will be free

About That What Wind Sings

Wind blows through tall poplar tree
Mind contemplates time in all its beauty
Man knows he will not live for eternity
But his soul that that very mind reflects end of time will see

Consciousness is first spring
But of second you will never hear nightingale sing
You will not smell it in most breath taking day of spring
You will not feel it in anything

Would it be part of a mind?
 And what this mind
That those higher levels of consciousness would find
Could do for man kind

If magnified cells in spirit would be just flesh
Without consciousness at their mesh 
What would be mind responsible for controlling that flesh?
Not base consciousness limited by the flesh

But the highest last one spawned by abstract definition of the mind
Leaving all the physical concepts behind
Yet in physical, real form would be that mind
But not linked to any limit but to abyss would be that mind

As consciousness's higher forms create vector ever-growing towards the last
Anything not upon that vector its mesmerizing shadow upon creation will cast
All included it be must
So divine and absolute is consciousness level that is last

In July

in july, yellow
leaves upon the poplar tree...
lawn sprinkled with gold

Gaze of Love

Like blowing cold wind is time
You can’t escape it no matter how well you rhyme
Yet there is something besides passage of time
That is a gift that is most sublime

Her eyes are like of Love Sea
They shine with health depth and majesty
Like multiples of continuity 
Like soul of divinity

She is the gift of time and space
She is realization of last fundamental place
Of continuity multiples face
Beyond time itself ability is hidden under her sleeve visage of an ace

Wind gently blows through poplar tree
With it the wind brings unwritten destiny
But last fundamental place realized at the base is a key
To find one’s own version of it and be beyond whims of capricious destiny

Wind

Wind blows through dandelion clock as far as eye can see
The wind also blows through poplar tree
Wind symbolizes change and destiny
And passage of time in all its majesty

When one feels summer breeze one wonders about meaning of life
And perhaps in the time of fall the afterlife
As opposition it can represent strife
Yet he is the groom and spring is his wife

That which makes wind interesting even sublime
Is that it reflects ultimate lord of all forms of time
Even the philosophical and supernatural glory that beyond time can climb
And the nature of nonlinear growth of that God is also beyond time

Vines

Wind whistles in poplar tree
An ancient ballad it will sing to thou 
The ballad filled with divine majesty
Mesmerizing power and beauty

The alder swings gently in summer breeze 
The nightingale sings his melodies 
The cold back towards the arctic flees
The sun frozen heart and spirit frees

The thorns the very soul will impale
 But above them pretty rose’s flower its petals will unveil  
No matter if through storms the ship must sail
At the end of the voyage it will find its holy grail 

Many vines like different dimensions are drawn on the scroll
One is beyond continuum of the soul
Together they are magnificence to extol
One for example is the primordial quantum the big bang of the very soul.

Hanging Around

as the wind blows south
the poplar tree saps black blood
soaked are roots with pride

Poplar and Wind

The smell of led was in the air
In the quiet forest bullet that silence would dispel 
That bullet young partisans’ heart would tear 
And the boy like stone would fell

All was left was a shallow grave
And small cross given to the one who was brave
Above the grave tall poplar would sway like an ocean wave
The salute was not given because guerrillas their bullets had to save

The destiny has many turns
There are many earthly concerns
But in subtle leaves of poplar tree wind makes sound like heart that for lover yearns
Only it can respond to other sides’ concerns as well as soul’s current sojourns

Wind is beyond time but blood is like wine 
No matter if blood is spilled by men or force of divine
Is the wind reflection of the force angelically sublime?
Or maybe soul has its own poplar its own wind and its own one having no reference to ours’ time

While I Was Standing Near My Autumn Tree

The audio version of the Poem can also be heard on my You Tube 
Channel 'RavindraKK1' or by using  the below given URL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apYEemRpNRA



While I was standing near My Autumn tree


The Sun was fading, with all its grandeur and beauty,
Somewhere far, very far away amid the Poplar trees.
I was in a state of enchanted stillness, 
Beholding the gold which was showering on me,
With every gush of wind coming from the east.

The earth was wrapped in a lovely darkness, 
Slowly the Sun rays slipped away from the hands of the evening, but
It embraced the night in her arms perhaps to console its forlorn heart.

I was glued with the fragrance of Autumn, while the Sun was still fading slowly,
Leaving only a yellow and radish glow in the sky.

The golden leaves of Poplar were still falling on me, 
Coming to me while flying from the Poplar tree.
Suddenly the birds said adieu to me, reminding me once again the passing of time,
While I was standing near my Autumn tree.


Ravindra
Kanpur India 4th Sept. 2011

Poem submitted in honor of Brian Strand's contest 
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