An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Oh how my tongue dies blunt, My pen, frozen, My brain, weak and barren. For a picture perfect canvas lies in front of me, but yet
By Stephanie Contarino4 years ago in Poets
Water A tall drink of water, he said, looking in her direction. Bee's love to drink water and their is no objection. Cans of water are a good thing to have around when the electricity is off
By Denise E Lindquist4 years ago in Poets
You are my rainwater dearest one, You gift my bones with your perennials, as you shed your tears for me. Beginnings occur, my stirrings remain to shake, and my body takes to the floating of seedlings,
By A. Raphael4 years ago in Poets
Springing tempests upon unsuspecting sailors Entertains Poseidon like nothing else does. Power in his trident, resentment in his demeanor,
By Isla Griswald4 years ago in Poets
I love these things in the morning light The breeze shook like grass A few sparrows, feeling the wind on a branch
By Thu Hà Khương4 years ago in Poets
The boat could not be described as sturdy, as it carries us to the rock. Gulls overhead, swooping and crying. Surf hitting our faces, salt water on our lips.
By Juliet W4 years ago in Poets
Breathe. Silence. Patience. Now grab my hand and follow me. The ocean wants to hear you speak. Remove the cachet to reveal your true self: no despair,
By Jeffrey Sparks4 years ago in Poets
Human feet rooted to the earth like trees, We are all connected, Nerves that jolt with the cold, Burn with the sun, And if the forrest wants my heart,
By Benjamin Page-Cresswell4 years ago in Poets
There’s something about the storm outside my window That placates the one within. The gentle rumble of the thunder And the steady purr of
By Hazel4 years ago in Poets
A morning of wind that rustles the trees, with blue jays flapping and singing around. The air smells of damp rushing through the leaves,
By Katie Rose4 years ago in Poets
One who fishes waits with patience in abundance, Hoping to witness the delicate hop of the bobber While at the same time wishing it not to move,
By Kim Poole4 years ago in Poets
