Tree Poems | Poemist

Popular Tree Poems

Visions And Interpretations

by Li-Young Lee

Because this graveyard is a hill,
I must climb up to see my dead,
stopping once midway to rest
beside this tree.

It was here, between the anticipation
of exhaustion, and exhaustion,
between vale and peak,
my father came down to me

......

Ballad Of The Goodly Fere

by Ezra Pound

Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O' ships and the open sea.

When they came wi' a host to take Our Man
His smile was good to see,
"First let these go!" quo' our Goodly Fere,
"Or I'll see ye damned," says he.

......

A Red Palm

by Gary Soto

You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.

That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair

......

What Weather

by Angela Fletcher

The leaves are blowing away
Up, up, and away they go.
Swish, swoosh, they go.
Like a dancing ballerina
Up, up and away they go
Way up , in the sky.

The trees standing there,
Their branches all bare.
The wind whistling throughout empty branches,

......

The City Planners

by Margaret Atwood

Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
the houses in pedantic rows, the planted
sanitary trees, assert
levelness of surface like a rebuke
to the dent in our car door.
No shouting here, or
shatter of glass; nothing more abrupt

......

Recent Tree Poems

A Tough Nut to Crack

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Violet Smith lived in Center Kingdom. Her neighbors were Jack and Jill;
Like orange sun, of a pink morning, when it's just peeking over blue hills.

With Mother and Father and sister, Ava, Violet enjoyed life on Sage farm;
Just as lilac breezes, from out of the south, only rove to keep you warm.

Theirs was a land that still believed in magic, like the red, butterfly stroll;
Or like fall trees, being crowned in colors, as summer's story grows old.

Fragrant festival days came, when fashionable, family friends, gathered,

......

To Love A Tree Is But To Love Yourself

by Pijush Biswas

They were boys, curious 'bout oranges
While these ripe, and time to grasp
Thus days go on
Until at least the days come,
While at least no a bar works fine

They spend whole the year,
So full of love of the dear trees;
So the day can't be a vain one
From them,

......

Tough Tree

by Ayatullah Nurjati

The dry leaves are shaken off by the wind
The wind softly whispered in the tired of the dizzy climate
The land regenerates willingly on the animals that inhabit it
The leaves are ready and willing to be eaten by insects, worms and slugs

Trees that soar high reaching the sky have been tested by various storms as if they are still strong even though they are old but still protect every habitat below
them
His organs seemed willing to die and regenerate because that was the sacrifice of his life
When the harvest season arrives, it's not uncommon for him to be stoned or his
branches deliberately broken to get something, but he still reciprocates by giving the fruits he produces.

......

World's Wine Drinks Dry Desire

by Ayatullah Nurjati

The tree dangles in all directions
Lush and green leaves seem to be in sync with the landscape amidst the bustle
of the city noise flanked by high-rise buildings
The ripe fruit seems appetizing to be enjoyed instantly
The air was now already felt stifling chest

Indeed, this city glistens with splendor similar to the composition of wine which is
the prima donna for its enthusiasts
The colors green, red, purple are good when the raw materials turn into wine,
they are only social starification and markers for the producing trees, similar to

......

It Grew on Me

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I was a fashionable horticulturist, for elegant flowers keep eternally in style,
Like the saffron sun, coming and going, always causing dark skies to smile.

Plants were a jade preoccupation, long before glad days of my rosy career,
Filled with such mystery and magic, bringing rare surprises year after year.

My fascinated friends adored my garden, at the corner of Violet and Green,
Visiting an August of creamy asters, after a showy, July 'falling star' scene.

My oaken door was always open, to the fine family of my affectionate heart,

......