A Collection of Tree Poems for Your Enjoyment
Thank you to Our City Forest of Silicon Valley,
Thank you to Our City Forest of Silicon Valley,
What does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants the friend of sun and sky;
He plants the flag of breezes free;
The shaft of beauty, towering high;
He plants a home to heaven high;
He plants a home to heaven anigh
For song and mother-croon of bird
In hushed and happy twilight heard–
The treble of heaven's harmony–
These things he plants who plants a tree
By Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855-1896) American writer
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A tree
Predestined to beauty.
Blown leaves. Antiquity.
Light lost.
Light found
By Vernon Watkins (1906-1967) Welsh poet
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The elm is scattering
Its little leaves
Of sweet smells
From a white sky!
By William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) American physician and writer
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One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and good
Than all the sages can.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850) English poet
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Is there a thing more sweet
Thank thus to sit – my feet
Deep in this forest-pool
So clear, and ah! So cool,Hid from the sun-sick noon?
By John Todhunter (1839-1916) Irish doctor and poet
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The trees throw up their singing leaves, and climb
Spray over spray. They break through time.
Their roots lash through the clay. They lave
The earth, and wash along the ground;
They burst in green wave over wave,
Fly in a blossom of light foam;
Rank following windy rank they come;
They flood the plain,
Swill through the valley, top the mound,
Flow over the low hill,
Curl round
The bases of the mountains, fill
Their crevices, and stain
Their ridges green.…
By Harold Munro (1879-1932) English writer
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Let me stand in the heart of a beech tree,
With great boughs all sinewed and whorled
about me. And just for a moment catch a
Glimpse of primeval time that breathes
Forgotten within this busy hurrying world.
By Stephanie June Sorrell (B. 1956) English poet
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Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast.
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray.
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems as made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
By Joyce Kilmer
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To Plant a Tree
If closer to God I wished to be,
I think that I should plant a tree.
A tiny seed placed in the ground,
With all its needs found all around.
The rain to drink, the air to breathe,
The ground to lay upon and weave
Its tiny roots beginning now
Will search their home for strength to grow
Up towards the light of God's blue sky.
So if you were to ask me why
I thought of trees and God this way,
My answer is simple I would say.
A bridge between the earth
By Kelly Francies
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The Swing
How do you like to go up in a Swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it is the
Pleassantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the water
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle are
All over the countryside-
Till I look down on the garden Green,
Down on the roof so brown
Up in the air I go flying again
Up in the air and down!
By Robert Louis Stevenson
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Tree in the Hollow
There's a tree in the hollow that shades the land
They meet there on Sundays, hand in hand
Words not need spoken, as they lay in the grass
Closing their eyes, through their hearts love does pass
They days filled with dreaming, soon they will wed
A future of love, and children ahead
A life filled with sunshine and love with no end
And this, their passion, God's blessing to them
He waits in the hollow, his heart racing fast
A ring for her finger, he will give her at last
He looks to the sun, her smile on his mind
Forever at last, all the waiting behind
Now the day turns to night and heavy is his heart
She's been sent away, for a fresh start
Her father has plans for this once bride to be
And he waits in the hollow, by the old shade tree.
By Debbie Mitchell
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If I can let you go
as leaves let go their leaves,
so casually, one by one.
If I can come to know
what they do know.
That fall is the release, the consummation.
Then fear of time and the uncertain fruit
would not distain these Autumn skies
so distant and aloof.
If I can face the dark with open eyes
and call it seasonal, not strange or harsh.
For love itself may need a time to sleep.
Lose what I lose to keep what I can keep.
The strong root alive under the snow.
Love will endure, if I can let you go.
By May Sarton
Thank you to Our City Forest of Silicon Valley, http://www.ourcityforest.org/
(408) 998-7337 text and photos © 2005 Our City Forest all rights reserved
