An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Following your voice like I follow your strokes Across this big blank canvas I am so uncoordinated that My hands make
By Julia Trinidad5 years ago in Poets
I walk on the Williamsburg bridge From Brooklyn to Manhattan, A single structure Connecting the largest borough with a beatific skyline
By Dana Maxwell5 years ago in Poets
Organisation's like green peace are taking a stand to protect our planet, Whilst the wealthy are planning to prevent it,
By Joseph Green5 years ago in Poets
Keeper of fresh air and salt water waves to lick their wounds and heal them. I am a body of water and work told to be blue,
By Sarah R5 years ago in Poets
Take my hand and you will find more than calloused archipelagos and bowing tributaries, the etched and embossed reminders
By Elysia Cook McDermott5 years ago in Poets
Pink, Pink sunset, I lose myself, I Lose myself in you, In your pink beauty, You are so rare, When I see you, I feel reborn,
By Karen McFarlane5 years ago in Poets
Throw me a Rainbow I will pass it to The rippling teal waters To the vaulted blue rays of the sky Watch the Rainbow Gather and display all expression
By Shirley Weeks5 years ago in Poets
How do I describe my diverseness? Folks are called red. Some are named brown. Others are known as yellow. Why am I different?
By Sophia E.5 years ago in Poets
The primrose reminds me of my Grandad. When I see it growing there along the edge of the path through the woods, Small clusters of yellow, soft like a pale butter.
By Kara Fleur5 years ago in Poets
upon contact / head first / baptismal the rind of me / peels into ribbons of foam / and pearls / i re-brown at water’s touch / two-way mudmirror / hands me
By Cassandra Rachel Myers5 years ago in Poets
A seed was planted, And here it grew. Rooted in family memories. The human soul formed into this trunk: Each and every branch has its own take:
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Poets
A wing bump is fine, there’s no need to high five, Our offer’s accepted for Indigo Drive. First throw the old carpet out, jettison junk,
By Kathy El-Assal5 years ago in Poets
