Love Poems About Tree or Tree Love Poems

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Poem Details | by Maria Williams |
Categories: i love you, inspirational, sensual,

je t'aime 'neath a Banyan Tree - Erotic Verse

The story behind this poem
The curiosity of many of my readers (many of them women) was excited in my previous poem ‘Passion in Black and White’ POTD 6 MarchThey wanted to know more about the ‘Magical Tree’ and Café’ in the poem

This is the beginning of the story the grandiose Banyan tree, a tree species I have always been drawn to since a childIt is magical and real, depicted in the photographs of me sitting under the tree

The tree is over a hundred years old and it majestically rises in the middle of the International Market Place Plaza in the heart of Honolulu, HawaiiThe café, in close proximity also exists and is known as ‘Kona Coffee Purveyors French patisserie’ serving the best coffee and French pastries.

I trust you will enjoy the poem, the music and ‘Passion in Black and White’ posted previously, where you can follow me on a romantic, magical encounter…   

Branches delve deep - concealing secrets - so hush Linger - abandon cares of a trivial life - no rush Sacred spirit residing in resplendence executes To tawny earth branches and to Heaven its roots: Whispering …’je t'aime’… A mere shadow of reality - no substance ‘tis true A life of materialism is - but a darkness whirled brew Rain puddles mirror its own spiritual visage In the still water the tree in its reversed image Whispers … ‘je t'aime’… Lost for words - in dreams - answers we seek Hearts submerged in doubt do still entreat A God inhabits - seek Him out through the maze Veneration to the ‘One’ to whom we praise Dismiss all uncertainty to the questions we raise Whispering …’je t'aime’… Ephemeral scepticism gone - here swathe in sanctuary Blossoming love in captivating honey dew ecstasy Untouched by this mad world - lovers dare connect intentional thought to boldly declare ‘je t'aime’… “Excusez-moi mademoiselle is this seat taken”? In lisping French pronunciation – you inquire The look in your hazel eyes of carnal desire combusts sparks into a blaze of heavenly fire Whispering …’ je t'aime’…
Foot note - About the Mystical Banyan Tree The massive banyan tree is the national tree of India, also called Indian or Bengal figConsidered sacred in India and can be seen near a temple or religious centre giving shade to travellers in very hot summer monthsIn fact Buddha was said to have received his enlightment under a tree like this. In the Bhagavat Gita, Krishna said, "There is a banyan tree which has its roots upward and its branches down, and the Vedic hymns are its leaves." (Bg 15.1) Here the material world is described as a tree whose roots are upwards and branches are below An observer will notice that the Tree reflection in water is upside downThe branches going downward and the roots upwardIn similarly, it is the material world that’s a reflection of the spiritual worldThe material world is but a shadow of realityIn the shadow there is no reality or substantiality, but from the shadow we can understand that there is substance.


Poem Details | by Lynn Marie |
Categories: dance, happiness, heart, joy, kiss, love, tree,

cherry blossoms

atop worn weathered concrete
pink petals gaily gather
entice lovers strolling
fingers touch  mittens vanish.

blushing halo canopy
highlights cool rosy cheeks
tiny buds whisper passion
newly awakened  long sleep.

sky gleams dreamy hues
turquoise shyly taunting
button noses cold   rub
lips plump  part  wanting.

kiss  two hearts waltz  
more kisses  sweetest tune
cherry blossoms dance
sprinkle magic  love blooms.








Poem Details | by Silent One |
Categories: absence, longing, love,

Reflection of a cherry blossom tree

Reflection of a cherry blossom tree, mirrored upon a calm river by pale moonlight. Its fragile buds falling with the light breeze, float away with the flow of tributaries. Just like memories that slowly slip away, time ticks calmly counting down the days. Innocently it stands with serene beauty as lovers gather to admire its peaceful nature. Many beloveds have shared a passionate kiss, while intoxicated by its seductive aroma. From Vietnam to Japan, to the shores across the pond, many a love story has began under fragile pink blossoms. Oh my beloved, how I long to embrace you beneath its glory, so our love story can be forever cherished. Under pale moonlight that glistens for you our lips will delicately touch for the first time. Cherry blossom buds shower our heads, as they shelter our love.
, The Silent One Originally written 3 October 2015 Posted 5 January 2018


Poem Details | by Timothy Hicks |
Categories: adventure, crazy, cute love, fun, garden, grandchild, grandmother,

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

You can see him now, dirty as a horse
that slipped in the mud, planting petunias
with that infamous shamrock thumb

(Irish from his Pop      Appendage from his Mum)

stopping every now - and again -
to breathe deep that fragrance
rich with pheromone nostalgia
just like Grammy Georgina used too do

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree

I can still see her now, in her glory days,
with lovely lemon locks soaking up the summer sun,
rooted in that old-fashioned train of mind:
You don't stop your work until it's done!

(but a walking contradiction, just like her grandson,
..rose to her nose like ruby rebellion)

the tree doesn't grow solely from the ground

Water's an important player too,
especially from grandma's showering can

(laughing tears the shade of crystalline blue)

Course you can't forget those lifetime lessons either,
from dear ole Georgie, speaking with a sunny kind of seriousness,
about the importance of patience,
the fruitfulness of labor,
plucking up the surviving winters' courageous cucumbers,
blushing beets

the ground isn't just a place for our feet

Cause with her and I, we incinerate the stereotype:
young blood reflecting on infinity,
old knees dancing like she's got chipper chipmunks
for toes     giggles in the background like a photobomb
to the expected chapel silence

(it's not all peaches and cream though,
sometimes we get violent)

Orange slush, flying miles behind us,
at times getting grazed in the face
by nature's food fight

our feet between the squish squish of the crab apple

We were two peas, if you please, in a curious pod,
like a whimsical joke from a laughing God:
Me, the champion of her scallions,
the guardian of her garden,
leaving all sensibility befuddled
with an, "I beg your pardon?"

I wonder if she knew then the gravity of the situation,
watching mama scream bloody murder,
as I came into this world..

..was she scratching her head, lips curled, in questioning amazement,
just like Newton must have been, when developing his theory?
What d'you suppose they both were thinking?

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree..



Written March 27, 2016
For the Cliche Contest Hosted by Silent One


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: allegory, death, devotion, forgiveness, imagination, life, love, nostalgia, passion, recovery from..., sorry, time, woman, tree, prayer, life, tree,

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend


Poem Details | by Line Gauthier |
Categories: anxiety, love, solitude, sorrow, tree,

WEEPING WILLOW



oo weeping willow oo oo why do you mourn so oo oo laden with inconsolable sorrow oo oo tears of woe overflowing in soft moonglow oo o incognito on tiptoe to and fro such source of vertigo o to hovering melodies of oboe under a van gogh rainbow oo o o oo oo oo o oo o L oo o o oo o oo o o o o o o o o o LO o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o LOV o o o o o o o o o o o o o o LOVE o o o o o o o o o o o o o OVEL o o o o o o o o o o o o o VELO o o o o o o o o o o ELOV o o o o o o o o o o LOVE o o o o o o o o o OVEL o o o o VELO ELOV ELOVEL ELOVELOVE LOVELOV O LOVELO VELOVE OVE OVELOVE
Submitted on July 3, 2018, for contest GET INTO SHAPE sponsored by MAUREEN MCGREAVY - RANKED 6TH


Poem Details | by Line Gauthier |
Categories: courage, endurance, inspirational love, nature, tree, tribute, weather,

MY LOVE FOR TREES



Seems as I age
My fondness for trees only grows
Their resilience and gracefulness
Their symmetry and beauty
Their arms outstretched heavenward
As if asking to be blessed with a nest for life
But it’s the way they bravely face each season
No fanfare just day by day
Making the most of their assets
Offered freely to all taking the time to appreciate
Every gnarly curve earned though hardship
Broken branch and injury
Radiant in the sun
Solemn by moonlight
Valiant through the rainstorm
Resolute against snow and sleet
Naked… Buds… Foliage… Dried falling leaves
And naked again the cycle regenerates itself
Such is life on this beautiful planet



Submitted on August 29, 2018 for contest END AUGUST 2018 STANDARD sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 1ST

Originally posted in March, 2018


Poem Details | by Ravindra K Kapoor |
Categories: allegory, tree, , sweet love,

The Mulberry Tree And its Birds One of Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN BASED ON A TRUE STORY IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years agoUse the following URL : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5dpe5_GRKE The Mulberry Tree & its Birds My Mulberry tree, in its season Used to get loaded With its sweet, Mulberry fruits. To eat these sweet fruits Birds of different colors and species From even far off places Used to come to eat And to play, on its branches. Watching these lovely birds When they eat Its sweet fruits and play Was a joy for the Mulberry Which can, only be felt If you ever see the Mulberry When it is loaded With its fruits and birds In the, season of Shahtoot* 01 The birds, used to come To stretch, their colorful wings Sometimes, to show their beauty And sometimes, to show their Their affection for the tree, But, when they were In the company, of their friends And soul mates They used to sing, some lovely songs For the Mulberry tree 02 Seasons come and seasons go The buds of yesterday, becomes A blooming flower of today As, life keep rolling With the change of time But even, in the season of Fast blowing winds The Mulberry tree remains Spreading, its smiles, Like, an innocent child03 Only, in the season of falls When it use to shed its leafs The tree, Becomes, sad and lonely For a while04 But soon again, the tree Becomes happy and smiling When, birds return And come, to Joy fully play On its, thick and thin branches The game of love and affection While singing, their songs In praise, of the Mulberry tree 05 Hearing those Lovely sweet voices and Singing of different birds Seems very familiar sometimes But sometimes, They seem so alien To me 06 It was not easy to understand What, these birds say and sing In their sweet lovely language and words But one thing was clear That they used to tell, The Mulberry tree That they would come again soon To eat, its sweet fruits And to sing songs For that lovely Shahtoot* Full of fruits07 Today, while searching and looking Towards that side of the sky Where, the Mulberry tree Used to spread, its smiles Every morning and everyday The birds find only, A blank space in the sky And they go away Sadly from there To some other place In search of a New Mulberry tree. Those colorful birds, Who used to show their presence While, playing and jumping Up and down, when they skip On the branches, Of the Mulberry tree While singing Their sweet lovely Songs, Have almost fled away For some unknown place Forever and forever08 Those birds Often, used to get lost In their sweet singing voices And lovely notes Which were very dear To their soul mates 09 Ravindra Kanpur India 1st November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. To be concluded in 2nd * Shahtoot = Mulberry


Poem Details | by Sheri Fresonke Harper |
Categories: age, autumn, home, love, seasons, time, tree,

Memories on Branches

How did a cherry kiss? Bitter flower petals with sweet pistils.
So laden they act as halos while we breathe the love
in a pink hollow, silence sounding like taste, acting like epistle
to hold this moment in a silvery image, like moon, or  dove
low, low, a bowl formed while sunshine flickers above.

Chains of yellow petals hang over our deck, the leaves hands--
offer welcome resting branch, our sheltered home.
Seeds follow close, fragile like beans, hard case to feed the land
crawl before God, they say, be grateful as we weed and stir loam.
Together seeds and flowers and hands make a life a poem.

Awaiting the sumac, the flame at summer's ending is fruitless
we've passed the feathering, the pimping of red underneath bristle
the deer horn softness crawling out in oddest places in a mess
lining the sand pond, above the purpled iris, the pestle
of stone and sun, no rain to bring down sumac's fiery trestle.

Vulturous crows squawk and fight the ring-billed sea gulls
waiting, one in the bared hollow hands of the cottonwood
the other fat-bellied and waddling after rain finally dulls
we're under hoodies,  under shivers, our neighborhood
waits the pinking and mossing, will it unfurl new wood?


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: fun, funny love, giggle, humor, people, silly, tree,

Out Pops - a collab with Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Two poets who couldn't agree Raise their voices to their loud pleas One wasn't able to stop His zip open, out pops! Haha, it's a pea, not the size of a tree ©JAFraser and OEGuillermo 15.18pm, April 07, 2015


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: love, spacebeautiful, tree, beautiful, tree,

Below a Douglas Fir

Below a Douglas Fir tree one beautiful moonlit night I sat there with my Missy as we viewed a lovely sight The aurora borealis was lighting up the sky Then something to my right suddenly caught my eye A gem from outer space tore across the cobalt blue Leaving behind a trail a quite spectacular view Two in trapped capture witnessing a shooting star We wonder where it came from, out there from afar We sat there for ages chatting about the sight we seen Phenomena such as this are generally seen in dreams Below the Douglas Fir tree that beautiful moonlit night We marvelled at it's arrival as it disappears from sight http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-13.php


Poem Details | by Russell Sivey |
Categories: life, love, tree, world, heart, old, tree, heart, love, old, tree,

Initials on a Tree

I sign your initials on an old tree And surround it with a heart of desire I want the world out there to come and see The world needs to see our heart completely That’s been put on this tree with love and fire I sign your initials on an old tree People want to view this tree tenderly It’s not like the tree sits on any mire I want the world out there to come and see Heart is formed with love eventually The tree should never be placed on a pyre I sign your initials on an old tree Formed are letters of our names perfectly All the letters put on smoothly not dire I want the world out there to come and see The world can see our kind heart lovingly Our love together shall never expire I sign your initials on an old tree I want the world out there to come and see
Russell Sivey Entered into Anne Currin's "Anne's Favorite Poetry Form: Villanelle! (Any Subject)" contest 3/24/2013


Poem Details | by Deb Wilson |
Categories: love, nature, tree, me, me,

Love Like A Mighty Oak

you dried all my tears
i stand proud now like the oak---
no weeping willow

your splendid branches
wrap me into your shadow---
shelter from the storm

wind blows me down
your light lifts me up---
might i dwell in your arms?




written January 28th,2013
for pd's Valentine contest


Poem Details | by harry horsman |
Categories: love, nature,

Tree

To feel the joy
of my transplant, caring hands
that touch my very soul,
the willing earth
where you placed me
blessed, by nature’s 
incessant role,
the warmth of your regard
like wine transcends,
when the feeling of love
surrounds me.
Oh to be here 
yet not alone, 
beneath the azure sky
needing your care, and those
rolling clouds to come on by,
to be a part of this
complex simplicity
sculptured I am, with in
nature’s moods,
yet here in this corner
of your life,
forever let this be
our sanctuary!

© Harry J Horsman  2012



Poem Details | by Ravindra K Kapoor |
Categories: allegory, inspirational, tree, light, flying, light, love, tree,

Tree, Roots and the Light

Tree  Roots  and  the Light 


The tall Tree was Flying, its leaves high in the sky,

Trying to go beyond the flying kites, towards the light,

Its roots were trying to penetrate the soil, 

Heading in the deep darkness, it kept moving without a shine


Higher its branches touched the Crown of mirth, 

Touching the lofty heights of light and the sky,

Its leaves and branches were flying and dancing,

In the joy of touching Light and those untouched, heights.


Some where, not far beyond the skies, lives dearest of our heart and soul,

I saw the Tree kept moving towards that One, it always adored, 

While its beloved roots too, were silently busy in supporting,

Without which, the Tree can never even stand to touch the lofty scores.


I thought and wondered, which one contributes more,

In touching the limitless, lofty heights and the glow of the sky,

The stem, which is blessed to touch the sky, or the roots that resembles,

A true beloved without which, the stem even can not stand for a while


The Tall tree was standing before me, unfolding its love towards the Sky,

With a high and prideful head in the sky, the tree was heading towards the glow,

Far away from its beloved roots, to feel the serene touch in the limitless sky, 

Going a little closer to that Glow, which we adore and love and call Almighty.

Ravindra  


Kanpur India 22 08 2010 




Poem Details | by Daniel Cwiak |
Categories: allegory, dedication, family, introspection, life, love, nature, seasons

A Tree for Life


     Have you ever really looked at a tree?
     Have you ever thought of the ancient roots,
     Those that support it.to behold its majesty?
     The boughs and limbs carry leaves oh, so green,
     We are again reminded of God's handiwork,
     When we see the budding exuberance.come the early spring.
      They make us mindful of beauty by their quiet repose,
      They are willowy, and shade us from the harsh summer sun,
      Beneath their gentle sways.we rest comfortably below.
      Fall ages them and their greens turn to brown.
      As winter's cold blasts blow upon them,
      Do we ever feel their plight.as their leaves tumble down?
      
      Families are a personal and spiritual tree.
      Their ancient roots so long ago planted, 
      Grow in size and shape and form.in gifted majesty!
      Generations of limbs and boughs support the child leaves, 
      In every new face God's handiwork,
      Radiant in the splendor of life.each one of us receives.
      Time slowly ages each one to their own event,
      While we who remain here grow and love,
      Still remembering those whose winter.we could not prevent.
      It is the strength of their memories we add to our own,
      They give us the values, insights, and perspective,
      Which we in turn pass on.to the seeds we have sown.


Poem Details | by Gregory R Barden |
Categories: dance, love, metaphor, nature, romantic, sensual, tree,

Sway


Sway over me,
   My weeping willow..
     Twist and twirl in the
      Whisk of a mistral,
     Beget of precise desire.

   Supple branches to
Arc en Arabesque,
   Wistful and prurient,
     Your yielding boughs,
      Bowed in contours to

     Seduce languid hearts.
   Mine, a simpleton's folly
To the unwary prey be,
   A beguiled harlequin
     Rendered your vamp,

      The torrid martyr of
     An earthly Jezebel's ire,
   Offered up willingly to
our arborous gallows,
   If but just once to join,

     To twirl and twist and
      Mingle and entwine..
     If but just once to dance
   With my weeping willow..
And sway.




~ 1st Place ~  in the "July 2017 Premiere Poetry Contest", Brian Strand, Sponsor.


Poem Details | by john freeman |
Categories: allegory, inspirational, lovegod, tree, self, evil, god, life, love, self, tree,

"Evil Twin"

"Spiritual Narrative"

After life began,  appeared “Evil Twin” mind’s obvious sin
‘Evil’  naught of nothing, using the power of love’s “something”
Giving rise to evil self, far to left, image of self
Love created, but mind deviated, it’s love abated

Love’s logic created Soul, but I am so bold, left heart’s gold
Lost in a wilderness mind, became the Soul of evil twin
Lost in it’s philosophies, mind’s logic of complexities
Has philosophically debated, Love that created

Saying, ‘how can this Love be the reality of me
I shall exalt above, this creation of heaven’s Love’
But crucifixion of mind regains Love’s self in time
As the mind is refined, Soul is re-aligned, with Love’s vine

Man’s discoveries, pieces of the recoveries, of true self
As pieces of the mind crucified, must learn to abide
From Love light’s truth  cannot hide, reality has not lied
Being one with reality, God true technicality
 
Evil self is naught, except, in a mind of worldly thoughts
Live of your mind if your will, create life’s bitter pill
Your bitter pill will not spill, into Sacred Heart’s will
This proverb is proverbial,  `Tis non swerve able

Within one’s love, one must abide, for on death’s cross it was tried
Also mind must abide, for on the cross was proven it lied
Death and life was set before, human mind to explore
To show evil twin, death’s sin, just no way for death to win

Make a tree good or make a tree evil, for is by man’s choice
Lie on God if your will,   lie `Tis your own bitter pill’
`Tis by your own choice, by your own voice, `Good or Evil’
Death failed, life’s tree stands still, on yonder hill, alive and well

12-25-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Poem Details | by Sheer Terror |
Categories: betrayal, conflict, crazy, dark, death, imagery, jealousy, lost love, love, passion, tree, violence,

The Carving of Hearts

I can not give away the Image engraved in my vision 
as I stood beside giants while hidden
mighty Titans, that is how I see the trees that hid me
in their shadows like a villain 
thrown together by circumstance, 
I looked high into the sky, had to cover my eyes 
reaching out for an introduction
my gesture sat unmoved, unworthy
the trees remain silent and solemn
absurd, it would be troubling if a Tree answered me
as a friend to attend a function
crazy as it seems the perfect witness is a tree 
to keep a secret like an alliance unspoken
a maze of roots wrapped around in the soil
twisting, and turning almost impossible to follow, to my feet, to a connection   

In the privacy of the trees, I saw you hiding from me or was it a dream that brought me here just to see you my dear carving the heart of another into our tree

the tree trunk held a carving of the smallest heart
amber in color like old blood no longer red
I found you here like all the tears that do not fall
instead I am drowning in my head
the knife came from your pocket as you were kissing me
far into a place unexpected 
with precision our letters appeared in the center
of the tree, of the heart, of regrets
pride, he walked me along the path to the trees
to the heart, to you and the sharpest of knives that I keep in your chest
time has slipped away,no forward, no back, no simply left me in trespass
my titan trees did not protest the screams
the blood that still runs along their roots
twisting and turning from you to me at last
 

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan


Poem Details | by Martin Kloess |
Categories: feelings, love, memory, passion, romance,

Wept Beneath A Tree

So sure of love and all that it can be
This kiss to celebrate the moment met 
That’s why two lovers wept beneath a tree

There all the world if only eyes could see
Was placed there at their feet without regret
So sure of love and all that it can be

Their promises exchanged so preciously
That even passing clouds became beset 
That’s why two lovers wept beneath a tree

Secure in trust they let their hearts fly free
Unknowing that the clouds weren’t finished yet 
So sure of love and all that it can be

Love’s passions grew and joined the cloudy spree
Into this torrent destiny was set 
That’s why two lovers wept beneath a tree

And with each storm they loved more carefully
Their memories will not let them forget 
So sure of love and all that it can be 
That’s why two lovers wept beneath a tree


Poem Details | by Debbie Duncan |
Categories: love

Willow Tree

High upon that willow tree
That's where I wanna be

We just go together like that
Just you and me

Way up in that willow tree
I met you on that sunny day
When the clouds were far far away

I love it when you touch me that way
How you run your fingers through my hair

Love is so crazy good with you 
And I really want to keep it that way


Poem Details | by Richard Lamoureux |
Categories: first love,

Beneath a Cherry Tree

She held my hand, beneath a tree
Leaning forward, a kiss so sweet
The taste of her, like Cherry Coke
Sunlit beauty a gorgeous smile
Beneath a tree a kiss so sweet

I pulled her near, wanting her close
Pretty brown eyes, looked into mine
As time stood still, my heart quickened
Gentle breezes lifted her dress 
A kiss so sweet, like Cherry Coke

Some memories, will never fade
Me just a boy, she was sixteen
A lovely part of yesterday
I lose myself there for a while
A gorgeous smile, she held my hand


A modified Eileenesque Poem.


Poem Details | by john freeman |
Categories: inspirational, lovelife, tree, life, love, tree,

Love Is Who You Are ( NOT, Just Something You Do ) Part 2

The mind has become a problem,
This ghost and goblin,
Throughout Love’s land!

The mind’s imagination, 
Took over,
Love’s invitation,
By a tree of divided information!
It’s like, being love,
But having a relation,
With life and death information!

There was a tree of strife,
Placed in the midst of love’s life,
For purpose of decision,
That caused the house of division!

But a decision was given, to twiddle dee,
For love you see,
Is what the mind’s twiddle dee, be!
But he must see,
By experience, what is best to be,
For the sot has forgotten,
His beloved soul with his cotton,
Love’s seed of the begotten!

For, for the mind to be,
He must truly see,
The love he be!
For love already knows,
As the mind only blows,
What love’s life is yet to learn!
For love created the life,
That mind turned to strife!

With mind being only a part to life,
Let no man deceive you with vain words,
The old man needs a good purge,
Then his life would surge,
With a holy urge,
to be the love of his life,
Not a goblin of strife!

We are love,
From the inside,
What mind tries to hide,
On the outside!

God the I am is love,
From above,
The same as I am inside,
My, I am is love!
But what I be,
Sometimes is twiddle dee,
Of the mind on the outside,
The real me, I try to hid!
Like Adam and Eve,
With the fig leaves!

We must learn to confide,
On the inside,
By the outside,
To be the love that we are,
From the inside,
Outside!
johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Poem Details | by Ingrid Showalter Swift |
Categories: beauty, love, metaphor, philosophy, relationship, tree,

What Is It To Be A Tree

What is it to be a Tree?
Do trees ever mind being so close..so intertwined ?
Do they ever long for space as I do? 
Do they prefer to be so meshed…branches touching branches
 all the time or do they like me long 
............................................................for autonomy

Do their branches reach for another’s touch? 
….................stretching to find it?
Do they cling and pine when isolated …as we do sometimes?

When a tree falls does another one grieve?
...............................................................

Do they sometimes wish to be free?
To be as free 
as he does......from me?

Does life always include such serious stuff? 
Or do trees simply shift in the breezes
of superfluous fluff?

Do they ever 
wish 
to find
the sea?
To fly 
to fly?
just 
like me?
What on earth is it like...to be?
to be a standing…a standing only..are they lonely? 
beloved tree?
What is it?
to be a tree?



Poem Details | by Daniel Turner |
Categories: love, tree,

A Southern Secret

Down south, Magnolia trees are everywhere
Broad shiny leaves adorn this evergreen
Each spring sweet blossoms permeate the air
Their smell and beauty add to any scene

Their flowers are as large as dinner plates
Red violet base that fades to pink then white
So soft to touch it quickens all heart rates
It's smell so sweet it makes the head feel light

And then there is the secret of the south
For me, I know it is my fav'rite part
A southern belle will kiss and make you shout
Because the scent inflames a lover's heart

If you want someone you love to propose
Bring them down south where Sweet Magnolia grows


    by Daniel Turner


Poem Details | by Michael Harman |
Categories: introspection, life, loss, lost love, love, sadme,

The tree and the trigger

When you pulled the trigger
you came to me and tried to love me
ask my forgiveness,
it made me cry, it was so cold
I shook with your suffering
I drew you in the afterlife
alone and crying with gods light
asking you to come
Your remorse, 
your shame, a mistake,
you had so much to give
i painted two trees
one that was dying
the other was dead
the tree loved you
amd misses you still


Poem Details | by john freeman |
Categories: inspirational, love, mysterydeath, god, tree, death, god, tree,

" Logic? "

To every thing there is a season,
A time to bring the reasoning,
Higher logic` of heart’s project,
Into view, for the mind to review,

For some say the mind`  is the only logic,
Leaving love’s heart without a project,

This mistake, takes the cake,
From this illusion` humanity must awake,

For tis the season` for higher reasoning,
And this will we do, as through God we pursue,

Love’s higher logic` God’s higher project,
An undertaking` of re-awakening,
A mind asleep, by it’s peep,

God’s Logic; the cosmic of higher mind’s project,......................................(Isaiah 55:8-9)
Love’s Faith; built on higher logic,..............................................(Hebrews 11:1-3 & 5-6)
Not on humanity’s`  earthly minded projects,
For it will always try to dodge it,
By lower logic,
Actually` enough said,  the lower mind level logic` is dead,.......................(Genesis 2:16-17)

While actually, God’s higher logic, the cosmic mind’s project, did not dodge it, 
Respect of  love`  gave the choice to man, the level of plan,
By level of chosen logic, man chose his own project,
By tree of life, or tree of strife, 
Would it be life, by tree of life,
Or death’s tree, of the mind’s strife,
The heart's, sacred start,
Or mind’s depart, from it’s heart,

Now you know the rest of the story, life’s glory,
For death was impaled, the stake did not fail, love swelled,...............(Colossians 2:13-14)
Drawing us all by love,  above,
The logic of death,
That death`  the mind did bequeathed,
Leave the dead dogs, lying in the grass,
For death has passed!!

 Dedication; "Diogenes Zuniga " I though of your personal undying faith in Love, the higher 
logic of God, who is loveAll the while I was writing this, may God richly reward you with 
many fruits of love's logical righteousness, for it is the true riches of heavenStay logical, in 
love, my brotherSincerely, Moses 

9-25-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Poem Details | by Elizabeth Kinch |
Categories: children, first love, friend, hurt, tree,

The Tree

In the middle of the meadow she stands.
Majestically reaching toward Heaven.
Beautiful in her solidness,
Patient and serene.

From beneath her branches
Kisses are stolen between lovers,
Their initials etched within
Proclaiming immortal devotion.

She is an enduring sanctuary,
Absorbing the suffering.
Tears from broken hearts fall.
She comforts the forlorn.

Youngsters are tempted into her shelter,
A magical secret hideaway.
They clamber into her green haven,
An enchanting retreat.

Friends rendezvous beside her,
A sociable meeting place,
Intimacies are shared
Amid her familiarity.

For years she has stood proud,
Her roots firmly grip the ground,
So glorious and green.
She is so much more than just a tree.


Poem Details | by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen |
Categories: love, nature, tree,

Weeping Willow

The weeping willow wept and withered.
Lovers swore their love, carving hearts.
Initials replaced her perfect bark
Pains of loves or lost loves embarked.
Each time young lovers sat beneath her bows,
She watched kissing and tender touches.
Then, out came the knife … OUCH!


44 words
5/20/2017
Written for ONE of FIVE-70 words or less - Poetry Contest Sponsored by Laura Loo




Poem Details | by Mike Samford |
Categories: life, on writing and words, philosophy, heart, tree, heart, love, tree,

Afflatus

Cavemen thought only of self preservation and sex.
In someway evolution was faltered.
Man learned to measure:

You cannot hold an inch, or a mile,
you cannot see a pound, or a ton.
They are but measurements.
They do not exist but in our understanding 
our understanding of what they are.
You can hold a stick that is an inch long.
Yet, it is only a stick, and not an inch.
You can see a tree that is a mile away,
but it is a tree and not a mile.
A pound of butter is only butter and the pound 
is but the measurement of its weight and is invisible.

So is the same for innocence and evil ;
Measurements.
Innocence is love in ones heart for others
and how far a heart can stray from love is evil

Measurements of love.