Trees Poems
Trees
by Harry Behn
Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their bows.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween
And in the Spring new buds of green.
......
After
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
On a blooming boulevard of beautiful palm trees,
Fragrances and fronds fluttered in fresh breeze,
Sunset parakeets perched in a purple twilit town,
Hushed moonlight mellowed after the meltdown.
When Autumn Came
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
This is the way that autumn came to the trees:
it stripped them down to the skin,
left their ebony bodies naked.
It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves,
scattered them over the ground.
Anyone could trample them out of shape
undisturbed by a single moan of protest.
The birds that herald dreams
were exiled from their song,
......
Birches
by Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
......
Vertical
by Linda Pastan
Perhaps the purpose of leaves is to conceal
the verticality of trees which we notice in December
as if for the first time: row after row of dark forms
yearning upwards. And since we will be horizontal
ourselves for so long, let us now honor
the gods of the vertical: stalks of wheat which
to the ant must seem as high as these trees do to us,
silos and telephone poles, stalagmites and skyscrapers.
but most of all these winter oaks, these soft-fleshed poplars,
this birch whose bark is like roughened skin against
......
Pretty Melancholy
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
when red and purple leaves are falling.
Ungathered cherries hang in reverie!
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
engaged in multihued, cool creativity.
Goodbye violet birds skyrocket, calling!
Desolate, windswept trees are shivery,
when red and purple leaves are falling.
The Oak Tree and The Birch Tree
by Everleigh Blackburn
“Do you remember,”
the oak sighed,
“the day the storm raged,
and I bent, but did not break?”
The slender birch swayed,
her bark shimmering,
“I danced with the wind,
a wild ballet,
while you stood firm,
......
A natural piece of art
by Saleh Ben Saleh
Helpless a stump does sit suffering from decay,
on the rugged part of the hillside where loggers had cut away.
Glorious the trees did stand along the rocky ridge,
as long as the eye could see from the river to the bridge.
Time, and time again their beauty had been praised,
but the loggers saw had chopped their limbs in total disgrace.
I see a shameful reflection in the look of a saddened tree,
if only man had kept his values for all the world to see.
......
A Dear Tree
by Pijush Biswas
Not to touch, not to climb!
Its breakable for tender limb!
I would claim upon every fellow
As mellow fruits grew yellow.
'Twas a Guava tree on courtyard-
Shrill sound of chirping bird
Or, shadow of the fruit tree
'Oft led me to get relief out of lee.
......
the fair den o' alyth
by J. Burgess
plant me somewhere nice,
somewhere up the fair den o’ alyth
next to a pine tree or hanging willow
just plant me somewhere nice!
i’ll absorb and swallow
through my eyes and mouth
i’ll spring out soil -
pleading out my hands
touching the sky.
......
