nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Feather
The viciously ripped away feather soars across the sky, taken by the ever changing wind Whipping this way and that, left, right, back, and forth
Shea-Lea MillerPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSleepless Nights
I’ve had a weird all-nighter. Or not weird at all. It’s just that All all-nighters are weird. They hold a sort of empty fullness in them.
Vicky BabczykPublished 6 years ago in PoetsFoolish Fern
Don't let life cut down your tree. You were born to live, you were born to be. Spread out those leaves, even shed as you feel,
Michael SmithPublished 6 years ago in PoetsOld Blue Chair
As you begin your journey with your blue chair Remember the sounds of the calm ocean breeze The walks in the sand and the cool morning air
Hannah BeatonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSalt on My Soul
Grey stormy waves, decayed tides. Wind through my hair, my fingers; brushing past my cheeks. Shells that echo in the year
Vicky BabczykPublished 6 years ago in PoetsChange Is Loud
I am spring You are fall Separated by the heat And the cold Everything still fresh Still blooming hues I got the pleasure
Kayton HickenlooperPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSoporific Spirit
I settle in again to the night, there's not much else. I wake to the moon's translucent pallor still straining for providence over the slumbering souls below. Humility and sadness in its glow as the arrogance of a new day begins to hark its departure.
Carmen ScottPublished 6 years ago in PoetsA Walk Up the Mountain
A walk up the Mountain rattling bones in a fleshy vessel, charging through the embraced freedom of nature, sights of rolling mountains that steal the life source from within,
Velvet NightsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsA Poem
I have recently picked up pen and paper after quite a few years. This is just a sampling of what has done out of my mind. Poem # 1
Rachel AndersonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe Love of the Forest
I love the woods. I believe I've the heart of a wood elf. Chills caress my pale skin As the winds roar and silver clouds
Briana WillisPublished 6 years ago in PoetsButterfly
When I was younger, butterflies used to land on me I remember we were on holiday in Wales sitting in a field, playing a board game
O T WellswoodPublished 6 years ago in PoetsPendulums Swing
Pendulums Swing I’m sitting on a bench in Chile there is the softest wind rolling past in this moment my skin feel like a Forest
O T WellswoodPublished 6 years ago in Poets