An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Just finished a nice and long swimming session I’m really tired but it’s a pleasant feeling To the showers, I go Only to rinse off since I decide to stay longer
By Sharing Randomly4 years ago in Poets
It's first of March, the becoming of life March in bloom, with green and flowers ripe A slow metamorphosis of nature and soul
By The Romane4 years ago in Poets
Serenity’s path is a slow stroll brimming with nature’s pace of ‘got all day’ lessons. Cycles nobody can rush. Cuz trees got forever to thrive.
By The Dani Writer4 years ago in Poets
Raindrops and lollipops You’re everything sweet, everything worth a damn. Splashing And prancing Arms looped together. Hopping and Skipping,
By Marissa Bendick4 years ago in Poets
In each bird is flight – but in this particular crow Which she hated – and was peering at through antique binoculars -
By Abigail Sire 4 years ago in Poets
I. Tonight I saw the moon. While on trip to new home. It was half, yet it's beautiful. Thinking when will it be full?
By Hale Marie4 years ago in Poets
There was a dance, The dance on the first sea, The dance of the wave in eternity. The first movement on the first sea,
By Warren Brown4 years ago in Poets
Lynchburg, Virginia, A city on the James, Fountains throughout, They spout water about, To look upon the city is great,
By April Denise Stuart4 years ago in Poets
As the first dewdrop, Fell of that leaf, Nature was alive once more, From Mountain to coral reef. It was the first dewdrop,
Power is not control, material items, accomplishments, accolades, or praise. Power is what causes Spring blossoms to burst forth from the Earth's soil, the rising & setting of the Sun, the ebb & flow of the Oceans, the symbiotic relationship between the seen & unseen worlds.
By Ashlyn4 years ago in Poets
I want to be under a beautifyl blue sky The summer breeze pulling my hair. I can feel the earth feel beneath my skin, the earth calling me.
By Jess4 years ago in Poets
Once there was a man that dreamed of the moon He swore he could see it even at high noon While he worked his job or at home using his broom
By Richard Lee Scruggs III4 years ago in Poets
