An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
The color yellow The color of life The color of creation When I sit alone in the garden, feeling the warmth of the golden sun kiss my skin
By Ben Massey5 years ago in Poets
Arriving through a crown of red and veins, Pink, alive. They examine my skin, ‘so pale’ they say, (a source of pride), Outside a blanket of white November snow
By Rowena S Clarke5 years ago in Poets
In the wild I've been known to swim upstream. Flush with momentum, I give gas and accelerate at all costs, unable or unwilling to throttle down.
By Alison Lyons5 years ago in Poets
white, brown, and green; a flash of red & blue the blinding sky shifts with a hint of gray birds become quiet - this dullness is true
By Joanne Wheeler5 years ago in Poets
I would sit there, under the lilac bush. Fund sanctuary and solace where the June sun would dance though pale purple blooms. Imbued by all the hues and shades of an infinite wild garden I could roam freely — I was cradled in the color.
By Joe Hamman 5 years ago in Poets
I drank in autumn when the world was sore, Cabernet crisp from the kiss of apples, Blood thick, ticking time with the hickories,
By J.Skylar5 years ago in Poets
Come to me, dear lover. Join me today. Rub my cinnamon-colored, cocoa-buttered belly – Swollen with possibility, pregnant with pause.
By Samia Afra5 years ago in Poets
The endless plains swept out in front of us Swept me off my feet And the sky, it was so blue And clear As if for the first time we could really see it
By Megan Taylor5 years ago in Poets
Moss tarnished halos In a sea of green Golden crests of empathy At the helm of earthly eagerness To feel, to connect Weaving among eternal waves
By Devyn Roblan5 years ago in Poets
You walked in and I knew. I saw the look on your face; so did you. I love you and you love me, But what do I do? Warm, safe… I’m home.
By Luci Worsham5 years ago in Poets
do you remember the days of summer where we would catch fireflies and keep them in jars the light they live to create trapped
By Serena Wu5 years ago in Poets
I was born with a birthmark light brown and smooth, on my right knee It’s how I learned my right from left Brown is the color of a tree
By Spirit5 years ago in Poets
