An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
I wake up in the Spring when there is no more snow When the birds start to sing and the flowers start to grow I eat in the Summer when the harvest is finally reaped
By Floyd Doolittle5 years ago in Poets
The smell of wood and green The scent of oats and molasses The hint of leather and tobacco The aroma of love Touch the earth with spiritual thunder
By Marisa Keller5 years ago in Poets
It’s a pulling, a tugging, a teasing An invitation, a promise, a plea There is only a river between us pebbled riverbed, boulders that hide dips
By Joanna Celeste5 years ago in Poets
Am in need Yes very much in need In need of more knowledge I just want to know one thing Only one I promise Who is the wise man?
By Ava Saint5 years ago in Poets
Although most people don't, I remember the day I grew up. I remember the day when the air was no longer fresher than a cold bottle of water and the sky was no longer as blue as a brand new colored pencil right out of the box in a set of school supplies you bought the week before. The concrete roads were broken underneath my tattered hand me down sneakers and the sounds around me were of the hustle and bustle of moms and dads getting to and from work to put food on the table. The life I once knew was gone at an instance and I realized that we're in a simulation of repetitiveness until the day our physical body finally decides to give out. Will I ever be the same again and most importantly will I be okay?
By Blu Rose5 years ago in Poets
I am from the depths of the rolling waves, and the grains of the salty sand, I am from the smell of cinnamon buns, smoky campfires and coffee.
By Eve5 years ago in Poets
The light is just above the horizon. An over cast day above. The light is so dramatic on the spindly tree. Late February, there are few leafs.
By Ronald Roberts5 years ago in Poets
Look at my withering flower grow, Look at blossom, look at it show Its radiant colours, its light, its height. How sad to see, but what a delight.
By Mihaela Vasileva5 years ago in Poets
You get some seeds and you put them in the ground. You’ll get some water and pour just enough so that they won’t be drowned.
By Amanda Jones5 years ago in Poets
The light winding down, my frame still radiating the passion of the day's earlier bask, I arrive to my legs, after a push to lengthen them,
By Tommy Boy5 years ago in Poets
I stay still and calm The cat needs to sleep She’s digging her curled talons Like very fine friendly needles Into my stomach and boob
By Tara Trate5 years ago in Poets
Tree roots run deep into the soil all connected and intertwined they communicate through ancient incredible mycelia networks
By Kevin Scow5 years ago in Poets
