An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Blood red sun lights up the sky, The birds are free to sing and fly, The towering trees create a skyline, There's no recollection of wasted time,
By Hailly Leona8 years ago in Poets
Strong, tall, giving, and caring. Home to lost animals. Shade from the burning sun. No trees, No air — NO life. There for others when others don't care.
By Alexis Fowler8 years ago in Poets
One leaf with the perfect shape no imperfections different from the others it's special it almost seems out of place yet somehow it fits in
By Dana Sheridan8 years ago in Poets
I am from lambent candles, And patchouli-filled air. (earthy, natural, crisp fall aroma.) From dewy choked windows, From yellow dog hair.
By Clare Woodford8 years ago in Poets
The leaves are silver and gold Dancing in the light of the universe. When they fall from their parents arms And fall to the frozen ground of winter
By MRG8 years ago in Poets
The crisp air blows throughout my little town, the one that I call home. It sends a shiver through my body and permeates the layers of warmth
By Alexis Rogers8 years ago in Poets
The abundance of leaves crunch and crackle as I walk down the never ending path lined with trees, sustaining only a handful of foliage:
If winds were to speak What might they say? Give us sage advice? Count hours in a day? Would they be playful, Smart, funny, kind?
By Irene Proudman8 years ago in Poets
Birds do not belong in cages, their wings are there as proof, they belong to fly up high, higher than your roof. Birds do not belong in cages trapped behind those bars, they belong to sour up high right next to twinkling stars.
By Andriea Munkelt8 years ago in Poets
I am this creaky house on the beach.Weathered and ready to be swept out to sea — These four walls don’t hold up a home — There’s no heart here.
By Joke Marfsky8 years ago in Poets
Body's geography Every scar is known to you Every limb you've held of mine Every tear that has talked you've caught Every darkness that has surrounded me
By Hannah Mendenhall8 years ago in Poets
Do you hear my voice when You hear summer's sweet song? The blooming flowers whisper syllables And they start to sound like my name before long.
By Jade Domone8 years ago in Poets
