nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Leaves
I remember the leaves falling They were so beautiful Walking through the woods with your hand in mine I could feel the cold breeze coming in
Taylor TitiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBalance
Without blue there's no red, without water there's no land, without cats there's no dogs and the list continues... why does one need the other? How come one can't exist without it? Is it in human nature to rebel? One day I got fed up with my boss and his tyranny and I wanted to throw a tire wrench through his windshield: the irony, I was to the point where I didn't give a fuck if these assholes were going to fire me, but I knew this year was the year that I would hit them with an iron fist but like night to day I realized we have different views but its the same date....
Dean MartinPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Night
The night is a flame in which my hope burns; staring at the stars, I wait for the shadows tell me your secrets; in the sky, quiet, a wedding procession.
Luis Ignacio MarínPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAngel of darkness
It was a night like in a dream. Sit back and relax as I tell you the theme. It was warm, with a hint of breeze; the moonlight aiming to appease. The ocean waves crashed at my feet. Then outward bound they would retreat. The dolphins played in the light of the moon. Splishing and splashing and singing a tune. I sat to listen for awhile. I buried my feet in a cold sand pile. As I stared out upon the scene, I inhaled the air that smelled so clean. As I squished the sand between my toes, I then heard a voice say "excuse me. I don't mean to impose". "Wow", I said. "You gave me quite the scare. I did not see you standing there". "Tell me the way to heaven", she said. "I am afraid I've been mislead". "Whatever do you mean", I asked. Then suddenly like a vapor she had passed. Quickly, she had vanished into thin air. Nothing was left but one strand of hair. I picked it up and noticed it was no hair at all; it was a fragment of a feather, ever so small.
Meagan burnsPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAn Aftermath
Years, years, and years ago, Inside a holy chateau, A plan has been carried out: A bishop builds a timber castle. Back towards the present day
Chloe GilholyPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAntarctic Whispers
On the right side of Everything… A sunrise, a sunset… Direction means nothing As we bathe in the confused glow Of first or last light.
A. F. LittPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBanbury to Warwick
Bored at home? You don’t need to go Abroad to have a good holiday. Never underestimate the exquisite Beauty of local history and
Chloe GilholyPublished 7 years ago in Poets- Top Story - September 2017
The Exotic Artist
Theatricality formed through millennial evolution which is excessive as it is easily donned. Is only begotten through hospitable elements able to see this show go on in its artistic ways.
Jose GabrielPublished 7 years ago in Poets Mr. Whale
Wave after wave, after wave, over me. The salt it stings my eyes. I see a whale and he looks back at me. Why, whale, why do you cry?
The Lovely Lagoon
The Lovely Lagoon Diva the swan sings loudly Where the ducks surf by The Lovely Lagoon The little feet splash around Where the ducks surf by
Chloe GilholyPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe City Lights
The city lights are calling me The train has saved me a seat The street criers want to win my purse I’m getting out of bed
Chloe GilholyPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Sky's Frustration
It's funny how a sunny day can turn so grey and start to spray cold precipitation while the clouds inflation shows a demonstration of the skies frustration.
Joseph GrantPublished 7 years ago in Poets