An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Just breathe…. in through your nose hold for 4, Searching, rooting, grounding, but my branches still soar, High above me, reaching for light,
By Brandi Reaabout a month ago in Poets
A fence made of honeysuckle bordered a plateau garden patch above a bright yellow house embedded in the side of the town's greatest green hill
By Randyl Bishopabout a month ago in Poets
Their brick and mortar was Confirmation, Dainty cross necklaces as validation, An amalgamation of evergreen trees Up and over the sand dune,
By Kayla Hefterabout a month ago in Poets
I’ve got knotted roots Their twists and tangles have baffled Doctors for decades My branches, they’re gnarled
By Sarah O'Gradyabout a month ago in Poets
I carved with love, my name, into that bark like I was leaving a tattoo The ones I also etched into my heart Root to stem it played a part
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a month ago in Poets
I knew winter had moved in for real the day my shoulders wouldn’t drop, even in a hot shower. The water steamed, the mirror fogged,
By Milan Milic2 months ago in Poets
I fell to you a fettered acorn-child Not seeing the ambition held under my scalloped acorn-crown. I bounced upon your fecund ground.
By John R. Godwin2 months ago in Poets
“The poinsettia, with its vibrant red bracts, is a reminder that even in the cold of winter, nature finds a way to warm our souls.” — Anonymous
By Seema Patel2 months ago in Poets
I’ve sat alone in rooms full of people, shrinking myself to fit the silence they expected from me. My words disappear the moment they leave my mouth—
By Hannah Lambert2 months ago in Poets
Carried by the breeze, Fluffy but tough Like a dandelion seed; Stability had never been a luxury or guarantee. And though my roots were weak,
By jl wood2 months ago in Poets
I asked the ground what it remembered of me from the years before I learned to stand upright. It held the silence too long, as if sorting through its archives for a version of me long forgotten.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Poets
Roots dig deep, while branches reach high Spreading to the future and anchors to the past Our lives between the earth and sky
By Natasja Rose2 months ago in Poets
