An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
The silent wind blows knocking down the brown foundation I have built reducing it to a rubble. I stand over the pile trying to pick it back up through the wind yet I can’t seem to find all the pieces to build what once was.
I lay in wait for the inevitably return of the green owl souring through the night sky. Shining brilliant as it illuminates the small area around with a warmth that makes the sun flower rise. The owl stare pierced me as we locked gaze. Unable to move trapped in a moment of time that none could understand.
standing in the field at nineteen I dreamed of a total freedom in the names of men who sounded wise their voices spoke a labyrinth in the
When Spring Has Sprung
Once rosy pink, now on the brink, I gradually found, That no one shade conveys the way a tender leaf turns brown. "I'm evergreen!" I told myself – my colors wouldn’t run,
it is a coarse sound digging through layers of ash to piece together things from before once fire, the earth took it utterly
it isn't too far up the beaches, fins thrashing layers of the water fore-bearers in the weathered rocks no account to the nature of moving air
Garden Of The Soul
awaken from your winter slumber kick up dust where you wander, plant a vibrant garden with the colours of your soul.
Rainbow of life.
Another one i wrote, Enjoy!😀…......I'm a brainy Red bird from Liverpool but not as you know it, I'm not a Green pot smoking Aussie Bogan, I don't even grow it.
Pebble forced Square metal holes that pebbles shouldn't be In. Rust that makes thick steel de-laminate like pastry puffing.
Painting the sky
I tried to paint the color of my mood, Looking inward at first, seeing nothing, Then outward at the mirror of the sky:
HAZE Blue are my bruises Blue are my smiles Blue are my shadows Blue are my sighs This place I know I’ve been before
Spurring you on to confront your danger Weather you break - violent winds of loss Or deep thundering crescendo of anger