An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Dewdrops frozen in place, Icy breaths disperse, Colder and colder, Leaves on trees long gone, Hark! In the still of the eve,
By Ericka Siebenthaler8 years ago in Poets
The breeze in my hair, the sand on my feet I watch the sunset, I don’t miss a beat. The colors are painted in soft subtle hues,
By Anomalis Grl8 years ago in Poets
The full moon light promises the beauty of the story Rainbow paradise garden created for the eyes of the world Here my breath is born and walks in the scent of life
By E. NATASHA8 years ago in Poets
Who knew the sea could be so mesmerizing Shades of blue that dip and fly into the unknown Such an oxymoron that will never be completely understood
By Dorcas Marfo8 years ago in Poets
Energy can never die, only in slumber lie, Celebrated child conceived, wrongful lament of those who leave, What you are, always was,
By Gary Davidson8 years ago in Poets
This beautiful planet that's near yet far. Goes by the name of Mars. So beautiful and spectacular you cannot help but gaze.
By Brandon Branch8 years ago in Poets
I am always surprised At how many people Are afraid of the dark. The cool black being of the mind It exists in us all
By T.W. Abel8 years ago in Poets
O’er the break of dawn hath thy clouds come, And cover skies with their eternal grey. O how the ancient rolls of white hath won;
By Eyn Ione8 years ago in Poets
I wonder what it would be like… December without the winter snow. The way one snowflake would land on my glove, And quickly disappear like a magical trick.
By Crissy DXCII8 years ago in Poets
The quiet, faint — peaceful — time of daybreak, when the Mourning Doves begin their melancholy tune and When the heavy haze of the twilight lifts
By: Maxwell I. Gold I have thoughts where in darkness they dwell, inside the cosmic voids which quell, my heart and mind to see, what I want to truly be. This is my declaration, of writ and rhyme, burning bright forever in time.
By TheWeirdPoet8 years ago in Poets
Sprites and flowers surround me as I start to fall. Guess I should have refused the tea. I turn from tall to short and big to small, never to be set free.
By Alanda Renshaw8 years ago in Poets
