An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
A seed swallowed long ago Has grown With little to sustain it But my belief and woes . A seed sprouted becomes Life within me -
By Emily McGuff2 months ago in Poets
This is for all the women who know that they are destined for greatness yet have no idea how to attain it. Keep growing Keep going
By Jayden Sweeten đź‘‘2 months ago in Poets
His laughter was the autumn wind that tossed me around like colorful leaves Especially if we were laughing together Standing next to him was standing in an autumn forest that screams in yellow, red, and orange
By Bixi Hernandez2 months ago in Poets
Climate Control On the 45th floor, the olive tree is mute with hunger’s strike: Here in the glass box there is no breeze
By Rebbekah Vega Romero2 months ago in Poets
Happiness is a long distant memory That grows smaller, that stays further. It doesn’t hop up on the train, unmoving history.
By Linétte 2 months ago in Poets
Sky of Quiet Dreams The sky opens wide, with colours drifting, soft as a memory, that never learned to fade. A circle hangs high,
By Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
The house remembered her in ways she never imagined. Her footsteps lived in the floorboards, soft echoes that refused to fade.
By Kashif Wazir2 months ago in Poets
And so we enter the dark months. Where that which makes us see blurs our vision, The blood that keeps us warm chills our bones
By Willow Walker2 months ago in Poets
This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for October 2025 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here. https://rattle.com/page/ekphrastic/
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)2 months ago in Poets
Everyone dwells; The pettiest thing someone can ever do would be to dwell on the same thing again and again until it withers away. Sometimes people unknowingly strike onto your being, you can no longer gather your wisdom. While being constantly under the immense rock of society, people forget how happy one is without judgment.
By Aakriti 2 months ago in Poets
My roots began in New England’s ground, soft fertile earth where hope was found, until that soil turned into sand and scattered me to a harsher land.
By Jesse Lee2 months ago in Poets
The woods remembers all my prayers. The forest recites all my shame. The owls sing all of my praise. And if all those remembers, then He does.
By Uhone Titus 2 months ago in Poets
