nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Flowers
Coiled up, sleeping through winter Like a bear in hibernation Wilted leaves and leaning stem, They ache to be alive once
Walking Through Heaven
While the moon steadily rises across the country side, I keep my breaths shallow. Walking across an empty field is one of the most haunting feelings; you know that the earth stretches out for miles in front of you, yet as the fog rolls in you feel as though you may soon reach the edge-of-the-earth.
Jodie SmithPublished 6 years ago in PoetsTwo Poems About Soul Travel
Each Soul Oh dreary evening Some thoughts need forgiving I can't keep tipping My anger and frustration I try the best I can
Samuel NoblePublished 6 years ago in PoetsA Stroll Through the Park
Alone, I walked between the trees long past the trail. I decided that. I reached my hand to caress the plant below me. “I made a new friend,” I murmured to myself.
aqua nerinePublished 6 years ago in PoetsMonologue to Music and Nature
Swallow me whole. Down into the Earth and life-giving Death below, Why? Because... I want to be part of your everything, even though compared to you I am nothing.
Hector CastanedaPublished 6 years ago in PoetsWinter
I am in love with Winter the winter I've never touched the cold dust perfume that sits in the crevices of mountains the chill that is graced upon my frostbitten soul
Sandglass (or So I Think)
Now all my life swelling together, Waiting for the perfect moment to just condense in its immensity and explode. I can feel the air of the tides of change coming; this time I know they're coming.
Hector CastanedaPublished 6 years ago in PoetsNight Rise
They say that night falls. They are mistaken. It rises from the land slowly like litmus in water. Unfurling inky tendrils of blue, reaching out and up to color the world in shades of mystery.
Lynn StadelPublished 6 years ago in PoetsA Poem About Leaves
I love the way the leaves dance around the garden. The garden awaits their yearly arrival, like an empty dance floor anticipates its footfall.
Clare FreemanPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe Stars
The stars in the sky Are nothing Compared to The moon or sun But without The stars The sky Just wouldn’t be The same
Stagnant
Still, murky water engulfs my body in these hypnotic hands Bronze fingers dig deep scars into my rib cage, trapping my torso
Andrew SchraderPublished 6 years ago in PoetsDandelion Cheeks
It lasts all through September. Not to mention enchanting flowers, that reflect a purple tinge, and help to declare the ripeness of the year.