Love Tree Poems | Examples
These Love Tree poems are examples of Tree poems about Love. These are the best examples of Tree Love poems written by international poets.
I find you beneath an ancient tree,
in winter your names I cannot see;
I think fall is the nicest time of year,
for the watercolor hues in my mind sear.
I come with flowers on a pretty day,
following a winding pathway;
then, for days I dream at night,
with tears until morns first light-
The all consuming fragrance of the delicate white flowers.
You and I would sit in our perfect garden for hours.
The sweet scent that smothered the garden with rapture,
The bees hard at work as droplets of nectar they capture.
The emerald hues of the leave's colour are interlaced.
Sweet juice of the orange's tantalizing taste.
To be able to pick the juiciest fruit to share,
As the soft breeze gently tossed the curls in your hair.
To sit under the shade of our magnificent orange tree,
The sun sending tender rays to warm so delicately.
We'd sometimes sit in silence reading each others mind.
As love ever present grew and our souls entwined.
I remember the day we planted our enormous tree.
We laughed that it was the first of an orchard, we did agree.
Its survival was doubtful, not much more than an incipit twig.
We both tendered it carefully hoping one day it might be big.
Quite a task nurturing our funny little tropical citrus plant.
Choosing the warmest spot in the yard, so the sun could enchant.
In winter, being so careful to brush all the snow away.
My sweet darling this all seems like it happened only yesterday.
I remember, oh how I remember
The days were now long gone.
Oh. How we loved to meander
Along the paths that winded
The slopes of our hill sides,
Where fragrant firs and larches
Embellished the surrounding hills.
Oh, how I remember the ambience,
The exotic finches flying from tree to tree,
Their luscious serenades echoing around,
While my love and I would stroll over cobbles
Our hands entwined in limitless love.
We’d kiss and hug as we would stop
To hear the lullabies of the finches fine.
I remember, oh how I remember
The day we went to a large store
When she suddenly fainted and fell.
The trip to hospital was long and traffic
Was congested. I held her hand while
The paramedics did their best. What was wrong?
She did not survive. Dreadfully, I could only cry.
If a tree falls in the forest,
And nobody is there to hear it,
Does it even make a sound?
And if I'm screaming out for help,
And nobody is ever going to listen,
Did I even have a voice?
A warm apple night,
moonlit tunes sprinkle around us
like snowflakes in July.
I collect them with open pulms:
silly dances, smiling eyes,
tightened arms when time felt too fast—
in the fabric of cider air.
The city wore coal dust, but
he smelt of cut grass and
noon lake so serene—
I dreamt of bluebirds from the west
eager for new water.
Green leaves as tonsils, for our
eternal midsummer.
The magnolia almost whispers to me.
Let the stream pass by me, nourishing
Food that comes from the sweet current.
That flows from hills down to my cottage.
There are many quant cottages around,
All decorated with climbing green plants,
I love them all, ivies, clematis, vines, and more.
But I am in love with the magnolia tree.
She blooms in late Spring, silently full of fragrance
Night or day it is a splendour of pure delight.
Alas the bloom will fade, as all things must,
But beauty is not eradicated easily.
Its petals remind me of days long gone,
Of laughter echoing through the garden air.
Now I sit beneath its shade alone,
Yet feel embraced by fragrance that once spread.
I love trees…think of all the things they give us…
all the things without them we would lack…
I only wish we humans gave the trees
as many reasons to love us back.
Under the Tree of Life, I slept in profound and secret shade,
when the Holy Lord took pity and opened a window within,
with a deep wound that pierced my dream and slumber,
and in that moment, I lost you, my love, my blue light akin.
With my wounded eye, I gazed at you and knew you as a stranger,
holy as the Lord, far from me, far from all known lore,
now only in dreams and sleep, you are my source of light's wager,
now only in sleep and dreams, you arise as an unborn longing's core.
Source of harsh thoughts, now only in dreams do you abide,
now only in slumber do I find you, in secret, without end,
stranger and holy, like the Lord, in celestial abysses you reside,
now only in dreams and sleep, you are my unceasing yearning's trend.
You are the echo of a time that knows no boundary between dream and real,
a shadow dancing on the edge of a lost thought's seam,
and in deep slumber, I find you, an astral symbol surreal,
now, only in dream and sleep, my love, a silent yearning's theme.
They said she loved only one man —
that’s how the old song goes.
But the truth?
It was a tree —
no metaphor, no myth.
A real one:
knotted, gnarled,
older than shame itself.
She found it when her heart
was still raw from trying,
and men were hollow bells,
rung too many times.
So she tended it,
whispered to it,
sang into its bark
with a voice no longer needed elsewhere.
Her youth curled at its roots.
Her strength climbed its spine.
And every year, it grew
as she grew smaller.
She told her daughter,
“This is love. Quiet. Loyal. Rooted.”
But her daughter heard
the ache between the words.
She looked at the rope,
the sky,
the body curved like devotion —
and asked herself:
Was it really love,
or martyrdom in a dress?
They found her hanging —
peaceful,
like she was returning
to something
she’d never really left.
And the tree?
It didn’t break.
It didn’t bend.
It held her —
not like a tombstone,
like a witness,
like a mirror.
And then,
they were one —
not woman,
not wood,
but myth.
Whisper.
Wild thing.
A tree needs sun, water and soil
gives back its fruit...
and its shade
on a hot, sultry day
A bee needs a flower to pollinate
gives the world honey
sweetens life
soothes living souls
We too have our needs
our sun ---------------- the warmth of parents
our water and soil ---- their nurture
our flower ------------- their love
We too give back
our warmth
our nurture
~ our love
I dearly love a good loofah
indeed I do how about you
I'll loofah here loofah there
loofah nearly everywhere
and whomever invented
the loofah
did an excellent thing
even the name 'loofah'
has a mighty fine ring
but I'm willing to bet
when day is done
buying a loofah
better yet
for the price of one
is definitely a twofer
oh and would you be so good
if you please
don't throw those corks away
do you think they grow on trees
If only you could see
the forest for the trees
it would feel so good
for then as an evergreen
you'd be out of the woods
and if you cared for me
going out on a limb
tho' not on bended knee
I'd ask you to become
a branch of my family
so near and yet so far
you touched me to
the roots of my heart
and as one fir to another
I bough to you
with all it may impart
for yes I too am a conifer
and what's a tree to do
but stand here in the shade
patiently before I wilt away
while I pine for you
She stood beneath the spreading tree
and looked out far, across the sea
with wide eyes wonder , to the sky,
and softly wished to ask him why
her love that had to go so far,
across the waters, to a War
but just returned , was dancing rain,
that seemed to cry and say his name
and look, a Willow tree that sheltered her,
was like a sigh, against the sky
had branches like a comfort cloak,
but tempest shadows , returned like smoke
she wont forget their walks of green,
bare foot on days, in summers , seen
a sky of blue, like butterflies,
on Willow Tree, it rested high
Forget me knots and cornflowers blue,
a scene of wheatfields , its harvests new
he made a garland & held her hand
and gently left, for foreign lands
so she looked again across the sea
beneath the blue,
Blue Willow Tree.
I stand alone in natures beauty,
in the woods by a trickling stream.
I feel the presence of my destiny,
as a repetitive eternal dream.
I hear the gurgling of water,
as it follows its chosen way,
No worries of tomorrow,
as it just flows towards the bay.
My mind says, relax you’re never alone,
the beauty of nature is all around.
A fallen oak tree seems to beckon me,
I acknowledge it and gently sit down.
I close my eyes and calm my thoughts,
a calming quietness welcomes me.
I slow my breath, open my heart,
and let myself to just be.
I feel the oneness of all creation,
and the presence of love that oneness brings.
Then my thoughts wondered why it took so long,
to sincerely seek deep spiritual things.
.
The message I received, without a word,
from a presence calming and maternal.
When you acknowledge your spiritual self,
you’ll be aware that life is eternal.
We went for a walk, one windy day,
through the woods, and along the way,
she said to me, "If you please,
let's sit a while, it would make me smile,
beneath these shady willow trees."
Yet, as just then, a gale-like gust blew by,
in apprehension, I asked her, "Why?"
And with a flirt, a lift of skirt,
the lady promptly did reply,
"On my first date, not to prevaricate
or equivocate, I don't osculate.
It's not the wind beneath my wings,
or a draught up the shaft I love,
but the breeze between my knees."