nature poetry

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

The Lions Roar
I stick my fingers into the clouds and pull them out dripping in gold the shade of a lion the shade of tall grass she rests upon
By Maclayne Diener5 years ago in Poets
Hermes
The vagabond forgave the hills today, Shuffled like a broke-down car over crests. He knows he’s as starkly verdant as they,
By Becks Byrne5 years ago in Poets
"Brown is Sound"
Brown like the dust we all come from we will return. Brown as the foundations of time spin by year by year under are feet.
By D.G. Services5 years ago in Poets
I SPY...
I spy with my kaleidoscope eye... Something saturated in colour. It's me I see! Colours that bleed right through me. Reflecting a me like no other.
By Wendy Reaume5 years ago in Poets
The Moon
Lockdown gave me chance, and the inclination, if I'm honest, to really look at our night sky. This May has been disappointing; but last May, over lockdown, I spent up to an hour each night simply sitting on a deckchair, looking up to the clear night sky. For the first time in my life, I saw shooting stars, satellites, and I also really began to appreciate the mysterious beauty of our moon.
By Deborah Robinson5 years ago in Poets
A Sestina Of Color.
A Sestina Of Color. A Sestina Of Me Stanza 1 You called me a mermaid. The blood rushed to my checks, now they’re red Reading, writing, thinking, drawing, playing. What is creativity? Of course, it’s orange!
By Jennifer Herrera5 years ago in Poets
Should the Second Fly Before the First
Could the second nightingale fly before the first; Forsee hazards that lie beyond, And the beauties that remain further still,
By Megan Branch5 years ago in Poets
Graced by light
The sky smiles vibrant, From spectral dew drop reflections To the warmth that paints my horizon. I breath into my eyes the sensation of being alive.
By Ethan Watson5 years ago in Poets
colours of love
when I look inside this is what i see: feathery meadows like a lilac sea rain in June so sweet and blue my mind manifests every hue
By Babé Sila5 years ago in Poets
The Lonely Season
crystallized, a moment frozen in time, whispered, so cold we cannot sleep. dreaded, the chill steeps the bones, numbed,
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Poets
My soul's graffiti
Purple is smeared on every backroad in June. Thistles dignify ditches everywhere. I am first to spot shy violets on lonely hills
By Alexandria Ramirez-Dickens5 years ago in Poets
World Eyes
They say the ocean reflects the Color of the sky and perhaps my blue Eyes reflect the mood inside and light Up a room or shine with adventure, turning
By Meagan Lily5 years ago in Poets