nature poetry

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

What do you see?
I see my reflection depicted upon window panes perched upon concrete, mindful, as emotion wanes amongst landscapes nestled
By Rebecca Robinson5 years ago in Poets
Child of Earth and Sky
My chest rises and falls as I allow my body to melt into the sandy arms of Pachamama; Mother Earth. She is the Mother who has never left us.
By Libby Brittain5 years ago in Poets
Nature's Way
Bright light blue with a sprinkle of white, Just the opposite of a star filled night, Peace and harmony through and through,
By Cassondra Bufford5 years ago in Poets
Dust - I Hear You Crying
I hear you crying Your once proud mantle turned to powdered dust. Green to grey. * I hear you crying as your roots dry out
By a.a.gallagher5 years ago in Poets
YOU
You walked into my heart I want to pick up the colors of late autumn Still want to see the decline of fallen leaves
By Aeneas Snowtz5 years ago in Poets
hope grows wild
hope, so wild, so free leaves us baffled, known for its ambiguity wears many faces holds space for all who need it what does hope look like?
By ijustholdthepen5 years ago in Poets
The Tale of Ophelia’s Children:
Mother Ophelia roots for the globe. It’s in her nature, empathy. In her eyes, an ember flickers- “Sorrow does not suit you.”
By Saroyan Coles5 years ago in Poets
Catalina
Catalina you have a sunshiny smile You caught me with your emerald eyes. Brighten like the pearl dissolving in the wine
By Golden Maple5 years ago in Poets
Autumn Memories
Sitting, watching. Watching the leaves walk across the yard. I think of autumns pasted. When being a child playing in the fallen leaves,
By Elesha Bonhomme5 years ago in Poets
Night and Day
Could recall a Day - the Moon just came up Was shining high and bright Set a new layer on the dark daylight. Then you see the Stars join in
By István ifj. Havadi- Nagy5 years ago in Poets
A Fog More Than Me
A Fog more than me as I turn to see crimson trees and silent day. Do I dare look up as I hear a swift moving wings ever so close. Could I catch the feathers that drift down towards me and use them for a charm and maybe flight? What could I see from a tree top view, looking down at fog ever never new. I listen suddenly as leaves swirl about my feet. A sound of footsteps coming towards my way. Yet I can not see who approaches me. I had been looking towards birds high up in trees. Am I alone or not? I wonder aloud. As sounds in clearing have stopped. I stare with intent at a still fall day. Not a breeze does move even a tree. Swirling fog soon comes near, how is that possible with the still in the air. Lifting fog, in a distance so near. I look with glances every way around aware of the forest amid it's autumn crown. Out of the woods slowly coming near, a doe, a small yearling with shades of brown. Large black eyes meet mine. Carefully she moves away from me like I was a hunter. How would she know if I had been friend or foe. Towards a spring of cool, clear water that I hear in a distance I'm sure she goes. What makes her so alone, I think I know. Sometimes solitude is what we seek, other times it is not true. However the circumstance survival alone or as a group we thrive alone or not. Glancing past into the fog I am thankful for this solitude that can't be explained, only felt. Back to the tree tops I go as if I could fly with the song birds who are left.
By Charlene Sines5 years ago in Poets
Journeys
A butterfly's journey is never ending. The way it grows, and finds it's route. it could be something spectacular even when it's windy.
By Cha' Lani Cherie 5 years ago in Poets