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Poem on Trees
1. Under The Greenwood Tree
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased what he gets
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
He shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
….William Shakespeare
2. Loveliest Of Trees
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and then,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
And about the woodlands I will go,
To see the cherry hung with snow.
….A.E. Housman
Famous poem on Save Trees
3. On a Tree Fallen Across the Road
The tree the tempest with a crash of wood
Throws down in front of us is not bar
Our passage to our journey’s end for good,
But just to ask us who we think we are
Insisting always on our own way so.
She likes to halt us in our runner tracks,
And make us get down in a foot of snow
Debating what to do without an ax.
And yet she knows obstruction is in vain:
We will not be put off the final goal
We have it hidden in us to attain,
Not though we have to seize earth by the pole
And, tired of aimless circling in one place,
Steer straight off after something into space.
….Robert Frost
4. The Sound of the Trees
I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.
….Robert Frost
5. A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,–
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
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….William Blake
Small Poem on Trees
6. The Girt Woak Tree
The girt woak tree that’s in the dell !
There’s noo tree I do love so well;
Vor times an’ times when I wer young
I there’ve a-climb’d, an’ there’ve a-zwung,
An’ pick’d the eacorns green, a-shed
In wrestlen storms from his broad head,
An’ down below’s the cloty brook
Where I did vish with line an’ hook,
An’ beat, in playsome dips and zwims,
The foamy stream, wi’ white-skinn’d lim’s.
An’ there my mother nimbly shot
Her knitten-needles, as she zot
At evenen down below the wide
Woak’s head, wi’ father at her zide.
An’ I’ve a-played wi’ many a bwoy,
That’s now a man an’ gone awoy;
Zoo I do like noo tree so well
‘S the girt woak tree that’s in the dell.
An’ there, in leater years, I roved
Wi’ thik poor maid I fondly lov’d,-
The maid too feair to die so soon,-
When evenen twilight, or the moon,
Cast light enough ‘ithin the pleace
To show the smiles upon her feace,
Wi’ eyes so clear’s the glassy pool,
An’ lips an’ cheaks so soft as wool.
There han’ in han’, wi’ bosoms warm
Wi’ love that burned but thought noo harm,
Below the wide-bough’s tree we past
The happy hours that went too vast;
An’ though she’ll never be my wife,
She’s still my leaden star o’ life.
She’s gone: an’ she’ve a-left to me
Her token in the girt woak tree;
Zoo I do love noo tree so well
‘S the girt woak tree that’s in the dell.
An’ oh ! mid never ax nor hook
Be brought to spweil his steately look;
Nor ever roun’ his ribby zides
Mid cattle rub ther heairy hides;
Nor pigs rout up his turf, but keep
His lwonesome sheade vor harmless sheep;
An’ let en grow, an’ let en spread,
An’ let en live when I be dead.
But oh! if men should come an’ vell
The girt woak tree that’s in the dell,
An’ build his planks ‘ithin the zide
O’ zome girt ship to plough the tide,
Then, life or death ! I’d goo to sea,
A-sailen wi’ the girt woak tree
An’ I upon his planks would stand,
An’ die a-fighten vor the land,-
The land so dear,-the land so free,-
The land that bore the girt woak tree;
Vor I do love noo tree so well
‘S the girt woak tree that’s in the dell.
….Ingeborg Bachmann
7. Friendly Tree, This Is Your Day
Friendly tree, this is your day,
So we’ll stop our work and play
And talk of you,
And all the good things that you do.
Standing still and quiet there,
Sending branches into air,
Making pleasant shade around,
Delving far beneath the ground,
Holding all year safe from harm
Little nests within your arm,
Keeping firmly where you are,
Reaching up to touch a star,
Growing, working, just as I,
Seeking God within the sky.
….Annette Wynne
8. Halsted Street Car
COME you, cartoonists,
Hang on a strap with me here
At seven o’clock in the morning
On a Halsted street car.
Take your pencils
And draw these faces.
Try with your pencils for these crooked faces,
That pig-sticker in one corner his mouth
That overall factory girl her loose cheeks.
Find for your pencils
A way to mark your memory
Of tired empty faces.
After their night’s sleep,
In the moist dawn
And cool daybreak,
Faces
Tired of wishes,
Empty of dreams.
….Carl Sandburg
Simple Poem about Trees
9. The Old Orchard Trees
Why cut them away? The dear old trees,
They never did aught of harm,
But scattered their perfume out to the breeze,
And sheltered the birds from the storm.
For an age, they have stood on the town’s outer meads,
The skirmish and battle have braved;
Alike they have gazed on the war’s bloody deeds,
And the white flag of peace as it waved.
But you cut them away! My pleading is vain!
In their shade moves the carpenter’s hands,
I watched him today as he leveled his plane,
And he spoke of the architect’s plans.
Then a wave of distress in my heart flowed anew,
For dearly I love each old tree;
Ah me! Many secrets are hidden from you
That the apple tree whispered to me.
I used to go by, and the sweet morning air,
Like incense, arose from the spot,
It would crowd from my heart some pain gnawing there,
While the world with its care was forgot.
Here, I’ve heard the first news of the blue bird and dove,
And the round, silver note of the thrush,
A concert, with sweet variation of love,
Seemed pouring from the tree and from brush.
I walked there today; as an accent profane
That falls on the heart and the ear,
I heard the harsh echo of hammer and plane,
And the pant of a mill in the ear.
So I muffled my face with the veil that I wore,
Time, that moment of pain can’t appease;
Unlike the birds from the scene I can soar,
And like them, forget the old trees.
….Kate Slaughter McKinney
Also read – Rabindranath Tagor Poems
10. Pear Tree
Silver dust
lifted from the earth,
higher than my arms reach,
you have mounted.
O silver,
higher than my arms reach
you front us with great mass;
no flower ever opened
so staunch a white leaf,
no flower ever parted silver
from such rare silver;
O white pear,
your flower-tufts,
thick on the branch,
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.
….Hilda Doolittle
11. Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s 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 made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
….Joyce Kilmer
Poems about Trees in English
12. Under the Greenwood Tree
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleas’d with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
….William Shakespeare
13. City Trees
The trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
As trees in country lanes.
And people standing in their shade
Out of a shower, undoubtedly
Would hear such music as is made
Upon a country tree.
Oh, little leaves that are so dumb
Against the shrieking city air,
I watch you when the wind has come,
I know what sound is there.
….Edna St. Vincent Millay
14. Come And Plant A Tree
Plant a tree to save the world,
Plant a tree to save the earth.
Tree provides the shelter and food,
Cleans up the air and makes it good.
Trees saves us from hot sun rays,
Cools up the ground and cools up the ways.
Bring clouds and trees bring rain,
Let them flourish on our land.
Trees add beauty to our place.
With its goodness and its grace.
Come on children, where have you been?
Plant a tree and just go green.
….Aunt Mary
Poem on Trees in English
15. Tree at my Window
Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
Vague dream head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.
….Robert Frost
16. Devonshire Street
The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen
Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet.
The sun still shines on this eighteenth century scene
With Edwardian faience adornment Devonshire Street.
No hope. And the X-ray photographs under his arm
Confirm the message. His wife stands timidly by.
The opposite brick-built house looks lofty and calm
Its chimneys steady against the mackerel sky.
No hope. And the iron knob of this palisade
So cold to the touch, is luckier now than he
“Oh merciless, hurrying Londoners! Why was I made
For the long and painful deathbed coming to me?”
She puts her fingers in his, as, loving and silly
At long-past Kensington dances she used to do
“It’s cheaper to take the tube to Piccadilly
And then we can catch a nineteen or twenty-two”.
…. John Betjeman
17. Firwood
The fir trees taper into twigs and wear
The rich blue green of summer all the year,
Softening the roughest tempest almost calm
And offering shelter ever still and warm
To the small path that towels underneath,
Where loudest winds–almost as summer’s breath–
Scarce fan the weed that lingers green below
When others out of doors are lost in frost and snow.
And sweet music trembles on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.
….John Clare
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Also read – Rain Poem
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