nature poetry

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

Naiad
Introduction This is my first Dechnad Cummaisc, and because it is describing Seb McKinnon's amazing image, it is also Ekphrastic.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 months ago in Poets
Poems That Build the Sky
“Poems That Build the Sky” In a small town brushed with morning gold, Where silence speaks stories waiting to be told, Poets gather before the sun climbs high, To write the verses that help build the sky.
By EchoVerse Poet2 months ago in Poets
Things I could only hope to keep forever
Solaciacious, sprawling, radiant golden nuggets, Curcubits, verdant snacks, popping colors that could fill the hearts of families everywhere. While I could only hope to keep up. Hand dirty, beating sun, endless tomatoes. The cost, the time, the people, the haul of zucchini The gargantuan hard-earned harvest.
By Joe argast2 months ago in Poets
The Lanterns of Quiet Poets
“The Lanterns of Quiet Poets” In a quiet town where the evenings glow, Where lamp posts whisper and rivers flow, Poets gather beneath the silent skies, Carrying notebooks full of unspoken replies.
By Muhammad Saad 2 months ago in Poets
Backwards Walk
I'm working on my backwards walk Through sickled thorns And dew-dropped ferns And this time When I'm where I was I'll leave no stone unturned.
By Ellana Blacher2 months ago in Poets
Seasonal Changes
I’m shaking sun dried oaks to try to gather up the leaves again. they crumble into dust in ways the buds can’t
By Ellana Blacher2 months ago in Poets
I Remember
I remember joy as father placed the sapling’s roots in the soft soil. I remember Autumn as the the elm in the backyard burst into yellow.
By Edwina M Salazar2 months ago in Poets
Drenched in Hope
Is there a well from whence hope doth spring? Or does rain drench our pallid faces In its cool refreshment Only if we dare to
By K.B. Silver 2 months ago in Poets
Annotation Of A Life.
Life’s going too fast, so I mark every line. Reiterate every street, every obvious sign, as if the art of noticing could save me from forgetting.
By Marvelous Michael2 months ago in Poets
I Consume, So I Create.
I consume so I create. Living, breathing, becoming. In an age of overconsumption, I turn excess into expression.
By Marvelous Michael2 months ago in Poets
Stop Before It Is Too Late
Stop Before It Is Too Late She held the door, hands trembling hard, feeling time slip through every breath. The warnings rose,
By Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
Whispers of the Inked Horizon
Whispers of the Inked Horizon In the hush before the morning wakes, When silver mist the meadow shakes, A silent room holds scattered dreams, Where ink flows in its gentle streams.
By Muhammad Saad 2 months ago in Poets