An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
What is it to have nothing to return to, Following the heart through perpetual cycles of forward inertia; Millennia spent making way through space,
By Tatianna La-Ché4 years ago in Poets
The dictionary says, ‘It is the ability to recover quickly from difficulties!’ Take it from me, It’s something more! In a way,
By ankit priyadarshi4 years ago in Poets
There is a place I retreat to shut out the world. Whenever I go, I’m a small child again as I walk through the door. We’re all laughing and playing like we never ever left.
By Sheri Lee Dyson-Brown4 years ago in Poets
The sound of waves crashing against the shoreline, the smell of salt water in the air. The rustling of leaves in the wind, the sounds of crickets in the grass, the chirps of birds in the trees.
By Tonya Newman4 years ago in Poets
I hear the creaking rope of a tire swing just as I can feel those fraying fibers prickling the tender skin of my misspent years
By Jay Sizemore4 years ago in Poets
Perennial pastures of peace pervade My upright posture. They expand and contract With a breeze into my heart’s hearth,
By Ryan Bourgart4 years ago in Poets
Home! What is home? It's where you want to be. It's often described by all the things you usually see. Location is key, but feelings are too.
By Frank Sartain4 years ago in Poets
I found a nest fallen on the ground, Carefully built, so smooth and round. Through coarse exterior facing up, Soft grasses lined the inner cup,
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Poets
My home is among the winds blowing from the Rockies onto the pale blonde Thunder Basin Across the trout-filled Yellowstone river
By Nikole Lynn4 years ago in Poets
Autumn: you run through my mind all year long Lost miles in rubber burned joggers each day Picturesque in ember, I shall belong
By Marilyn Glover4 years ago in Poets
We try to keep their numbers small We simply cannot catch them all They hiss and spit and run and hide And with the neighbors do collide
By Pam Reeder4 years ago in Poets
1500 miles to the gem I call home -- 1500 miles situates my tropical paradise -- where I climbed fruit trees dashed through
By Kellion K4 years ago in Poets
