Tree poems or writings

Thanks for yet another excellent quote, Ponderosa. I just shared this one with my wife, and she said, "Wow--that's pretty nice!" I agree.

I like the way you think. I do believe I'd be honored to plant that tree with you.

Hey, can I play too? I know some good pomes! Howz this:

Spring has sprung
The grass has riz
I wonder where
My biners is.

Seriously, my favourite tree poem, the one that always comes first to mind, is by Joyce Kilmer. I don't believe it's considered to be high art by poetry snobs, but I like it.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem 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 are written by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Not up to the standard of Emerson, but still nice.

Cheers,
Brad

Jim, if I ever make it back to the DC area, I may take you up on that. Likewise, if you're ever out west, and up for a climb, look me up. I'm on a first name basis with many fine native cottonwoods and pondies.

nice one brad,

that was my sisters favourite too.

cheers for finding the source of that emerson for me jim. I don't know how it had migrated origins in my head.

I should have known it was theraeux's buddy. He used to be a priest but fell into angst. seems like he found the wood.

“Trees” By Howard Nemerov

To be a giant and keep quiet about it,
To stay in one's own place;
To stand for the constant presence of process
And always to seem the same;
To be steady as a rock and always trembling,
Having the hard appearance of death
With the soft, fluent nature of growth,
One's Being deceptively armored,
One's Becoming deceptively vulnerable,
To be so tough, and take the light so well,
Freely providing forbidden knowledge
Of so many things about heaven and earth
For which we should otherwise have no word-
Poems or people are rarely so lovely,
And even when they have great qualities
They tend to tell you rather then exemplify
What they believe themselves to be about,
While from the moving silence of trees,
Whether in storm or calm, in leaf and naked,
Night or day, we draw conclusions of our own,
Sustaining and unnoticed as our breath,
And perilous also-though there has never been
A critical tree-about the nature of things.

The knight of the ethereal canopy
Charging hard with friction Prusiks and Blakes
Reaching the summit of tranquility
To capture a hawk's view of stilled blue lakes

The sword replaced by the synthetic rope
Armor reduced to a harness in space
A creature of air not an idle hope
Screaming a battle cry to Leave no Trace

Where limb forks down to the feathery leaf
The knight seeks some quiet solace to dwell
Immersed in nature's cathartic relief
Finding serenity before rappel

Feet reluctantly returned to earth’s old ground
The mind now quieted to nature's sound

http://www.jibjab.com/xmas/play.asp?contentid=28&groupid=2

From my 11-year-old dsughter

When you climb a tree
It is like climbing a cloud
Like your in the sky
Your free like a bird
Like your free
Climb a tree

Another from my daughter

Trees are friends
The are always waiting for you
so they can say "Hi" if they could talk
They are waiting for a friend
They are waiting for you to climb them