nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Silent build
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.
giovani serranoPublished about 5 hours ago in Poets
Green owl
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.
giovani serranoPublished about 6 hours ago in Poets
Still Life
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
Timothy James LanePublished about 6 hours ago in Poets
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,
To Lift
it is a coarse sound digging through layers of ash to piece together things from before once fire, the earth took it utterly
Timothy James LanePublished about 6 hours ago in Poets
Icthyosis
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
Timothy James LanePublished about 6 hours ago in Poets
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.
Dee DaintithPublished about 8 hours ago in Poets
Sea Hypnosis
Pebble forced Square metal holes that pebbles shouldn't be In. Rust that makes thick steel de-laminate like pastry puffing.
Paul Fernandez-BeckettPublished about 8 hours ago in Poets
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:
Matthew EdgeworthPublished about 8 hours ago in Poets
HAZE
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
Manon ArdissonPublished about 9 hours ago in PoetsRed
Spurring you on to confront your danger Weather you break - violent winds of loss Or deep thundering crescendo of anger
James DempsterPublished about 9 hours ago in Poets
