nature poetry

An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.

The Mystic Realm of Color Is Its Own Language
Colors make magic; there are millions to see. We just have to keep our eyes open to the world and infinity. That’s not to say we can’t see with just the mind
By Janna Bruns5 years ago in Poets
The Way Flowers Do
When I was born, my hair was raven. It sprouted in patches: uneven, unpredictable, And according to my mother, very hard to tame.
By Johanna Leo5 years ago in Poets
Nature
When the sun wakes up every morning, it smiles a really similar smile to the one you excel at me whenever you see me: ever bright and new.
By Md Feroz5 years ago in Poets
What colour am I?
I ask myself all the time, “What colour am I?” And “What colour do I seem?” Because within, the only colour that comes to me is a dark, deep blue.
By Mika5 years ago in Poets
Saudade
Saudade (31°21” S, 72°26”W) We’ve seen the horizon and it’s always the same :: Of course, I was drowning ::
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Poets
Poetry From My Palette
I have written you a poem, dear. You must read it with your heart. There are no words, but the colors Are full of thoughts and art.
By Janna Bruns5 years ago in Poets
Ode to the Green Forest
I feel green today whilst stood amongst trees. Barefoot I stand with my shoes thrown aside, not green with envy but feeling at ease.
By Bea Leadley5 years ago in Poets
Song of Clear River
My skin shed Slaked on stone Too many times to remember But just enough to see Between the scales judgement That my true color lay in waiting
By Ilyusha Mann5 years ago in Poets
What does your dream look like?
I was watching the BFG, and I loved the idea of dreams---well, the essence of a dream, being captured in a glass jar. Sophie was a cheeky, sarcastic, witty little lady who didn't take crap from anyone and I wanted to live inside of that world, and I admired her because I felt like I was her---and being inside of the world of Giants and Dream Country was something I think I could survive in too. I wanted to dip my fingers inside of the jar, and fall into it like a well, and swim deep in that world, in the mystery of that mystical and magical, almost Will-o'-the-wisp kind of feeling. To live, to love, to escape.
By Melissa Ingoldsby5 years ago in Poets
From Moment to Moment
Pow’r and confidence I’ll fight for change – anarchy. Sometimes I am red. Flustered, confused, dazed. Who are you – Who should I be?
By CS Lawenda5 years ago in Poets
Colors of the Soul
Colors of the Soul Nature is a mirror Opening the soul Quietly awakening Thoughtfully grown Peaceful admiration
By Tiare Fenrich 5 years ago in Poets
A dandelion
The other day I stopped infront of a dandelion. It stood tall and proud in a field of green with a vibrancy that rivaled the sun,
By Taniya Spolia5 years ago in Poets