nature poetry

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

  • Ada Zuba
    Published about 8 hours ago
    Do You See What I See?

    Do You See What I See?

    I always enjoyed art, I liked going to the art museums on my travels and seeing the Mona Lisa, the sculpture of Nike, Sunflowers by Van Gogh and all the renaissance paintings. I like to pain myself, I do not think I am worthy or Picasso or Van Gogh in anyway, but I enjoy the craft of having a blank canvas and thinking "What will go on this canvas today?" and I create art. Unfortunately, I cannot keep painting for a day, I like to rush through it and show it off even though most of my art is no better than a six year old who paints. I like the idea of being a painter, I like the idea of having no money and painting for a living, it is an artist's life. But, let me paint you a beautiful pictures using just my words. What do I see outside of my window? What is it that I see when I look outside?
  • Joel Nicholas
    Published about 13 hours ago
    Head in the clouds
  • Holly Capstick
    Published about 13 hours ago
    Remembering in Forgetting

    Remembering in Forgetting

    Rainy day writings.
  • Lalana Balea
    Published about 14 hours ago
    Sun Rise, Sun Fall

    Sun Rise, Sun Fall

    Sun rise and sun fall
  • Nadine Natasha
    Published a day ago
    A Beckoning Spring

    A Beckoning Spring

    Laughter and shrieks of excited delight, Can often be heard from afar, Surviving the wrath of nature’s unforgiving chill, allows for little feet to invade,
  • Samantha Paredes
    Published a day ago
    She Knows I am Here

    She Knows I am Here

    I was born ten billion years old.
  • Erin Shields
    Published a day ago
    A Summers Afternoon.

    A Summers Afternoon.

    A solitary poppy
  • Tony Martello
    Published 2 days ago
    Kineship
  • Ryane Townsend
    Published 3 days ago
    Traffic

    Traffic

    I met the moon tonight. She peered at me from over an old building as I sat.
  • Sammy Kewish
    Published 3 days ago
    layered land

    layered land

    A land layered with lush longings. Ones I recognize and greet every morning. Its detailed archive is equipped with vibrant overlappings of memory... they exist on all sides of the time spectrum. Layers speak from its bustling hive of activity, scattered hues of color discuss upcoming collaboration, chaotic yet unified sounds of landscape orchestrate a deep-rooted symphony. It comes and goes as it pleases. Soft and sharp edged foliage live in the same neighbourhood; their differences don't seem to cause conflict. I absorb these layers from my sheltered but exposed position, how can a place of so much vibrance and activity feel so still? My nose welcomes the familiar smell of fresh, damp grass carried by a subtle, fluid breeze weaving through cracks and open spaces, whistling, rustling, whispering as it goes. The Trees are warm. They shelter you with a protective hug using far-reaching limbs. A blonde, speckled canopy partially filters stormcloud tears allowing my skin to accommodate and interact. Goosebumps and raised hair follicles conversate with individual drops of silky liquid falling from above. The sky filled with fluffy, grey hues reaching as far as the eye can see. It moves like a sideways waterwall, rain teaming up with wind to create a sporadic, fluid, elemental performance in mid air. My feet are grounded, tethered to the warm earth and cool, moist whisky grass. Its rigid, furry texture tickles the sensitive part of my feet as I brush along its tenacious tips, sending a spine-chilling sensation off to travel throughout my body. Sounds are overwhelming if given the time. Startling masculine cries of curious bulls waver in the distance. They battle with high-pitched chirps that shrill on a different frequency - the sparrows are out and attentively playful - completely disregarding their perspective on the moments flailing elements. I look afar to the wide open sea of green, categorized by fences made up of wood and wire. I trace the waves that are bumps and bulges with my eyes, observing the relaxed movements of its users in which it provides for. The breeze subtly dries my attentive eyes, reminding me to blink....the land is so radiant and powerful, yet it just sits there...patiently...for what? Hues; highlights, shadows; shades, I am engulfed and overwhelmed with choice. Colors in every possible form, transcending through light they manipulate mass deceiving the eye. Morphing, dissolving, stretching, conjoining with one another they sugar-coat and seduce a visual world. Colors come equipped with the amazing ability to affect an atmosphere, making a rained on landscape, in my case, feel cosy. Hues of yellows and reds, mellow greens and deep indigos - all mindfully interact to inject a feeling in the one experiencing.
  • Cecilia Viney
    Published 3 days ago
    The Aliveness of It All

    The Aliveness of It All

    I’m gone, from this place and from myself. I still feel the energy from my surroundings, but it comes to me in a different way. My eyes sucked up by the infinity that awaits at the other side of the window. The unknown alluring them with a subtle, almost imperceptible, ancient spell. A remembrance of another life or perhaps, another self.
  • Calder Martin
    Published 4 days ago
    The Tree And The Stars

    The Tree And The Stars

    Everyday the world closes in.