Tree Poems
Mulga Bill's Bicycle
by Banjo Paterson
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything, as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
......
Mandalay
by Rudyard Kipling
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
......
Duino Elegies: The First Elegy
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
Disabled
by Wilfred Owen
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
......
To The Cuckoo
by William Wordsworth
O BLITHE New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! Shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear,
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off, and near.
......
dress code, the tcp of status
by atef ayadi
pleaze correct it as you please or simply write your own whatever!
title:
dress code, the tcp eye pee of status
i am a homo erectus creature.
a big foot is preferable.
a neatherdal is my last option.
this subject does ring any wild bells
in my ears nor my
......
duck duck and goo gletgo
by atef ayadi
duck duck and go
shopped out my name
from its long search waiting list.
for three days
google did not.
maybe
google is a tree,
surely,
duck
duck
......
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.
......
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Robert Louis Stevenson (41 poems about Tree)
November 13, 1850 / Edinburgh, Scotland - December 3, 1894 / Vailima, Samoa -
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Rainer Maria Rilke (21 poems about Tree)
4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic -
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