It didn't bring this loneliness upon itself. One writer, Epstein (2001) proclaims that this poem is “a summing up of [the author’s] love life to date, and an occasion to invoke the classic themes of elegy, the tempus fugit and the ubi sunt” (p. 139): What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why It is the definition of lonely and sad, and everything in between. The Lonely Tree poem by Sinead Mc Cormick. The lonely tree often thinks about being free, traveling beyond the two peaks; Searching until it can finally see the one thing that it seeks. It is the definition of lonely and sad, and everything in between. Page It is not nothing however. Copyrighted poems are the property of the copyright holders. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. Memories which it could not part, On its lips a sad smile would start, Images of many young and old trees, But just a lonely something (in a beautiful place) waiting (in darkness). When it gazes off into the distance it cannot see anything. Where summer-long the shadows sleep. The Lonely Tree. A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Led o'er a green hill lonely by the shadowy hound of Death? It sits there (in a beautiful place) surrounded by nothing. It will never know how strong it is. Pay no attention to its roots which grow against stone, leaving no water to bear any seeds or fruit. By registering with PoetryNook.Com and adding a poem, you represent that you own the copyright to that poem and are granting PoetryNook.Com permission to publish the poem. Men talk of forests broad and deep. For it, itself, has seen and experienced nothing. In the middle of a valley, forever shrouded by darkened clouds, rests a happy lonely tree who often thinks aloud. 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. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge... quercus : I've never got paid for my hits... Recite this poem (upload your own video or voice file). A tree stood lonely in the ground, Sad at heart and briny of eye. It did nothing wrong. For it was just fate and its destiny to live (out its "life") alone (in a beautiful place) surrounded by, Nothing, and because of this all it will be is, If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Though I love forests deep and wide, The lone tree on the bare hillside, The brave wind-bitten lonely tree. Green branches, green branches, you sing of a sorrow olden, But now it is midsummer weather, earth- young, sunripe, golden: Here I stand and I wait, here in the rowan- tree hollow, But never a green leaf whispers, "Follow, oh, Follow, Follow!" O never a green leaf whispers, where the Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. It is something. A twisted ash, a ragged fir, A silver birch with leaves astir. A poor little tree standing all alone, Swaying in the breeze, all on his own, His leaves are blowing on a sunny, calm day, As if he was happy in some kind of way.As time passes on and the day goes by, The poor little tree looks ready to cry, The sky goes darker and the clouds turn grey, He doesn’t seem as happy, he is blowing away.As it comes to an end and day turns to night, The poor little tree gets a bit of a fright, Standing on his own with no-one else around, He is stuck on his own, planted in the ground. It waits (to be loved) to feel (noticed, adored, connected with) Someone, or Something It strives for it. A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.