nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Marcus
Vines grasping at a cement ledge as if to fulfill a secret pledge. Under rain and sun it soaks in its stay, it stiffens like a python with formidable prey.
Aether AtomskPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHalloween Dream
Vivid, pumpkin-orange lights Glowing against the black night, Like pinpoints of ferocious flames Flickering to life in the crisp air.
Jennifer McCollomPublished 7 years ago in PoetsFall
Summer takes its last breath and collapses into Fall, It's now the time that I love most of all. Green leaves turn to orange, yellow, and red,
Victoria HillPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI AM A DAISY
Once, a daisy I was called by a friend A flower too delicate and easily bent A flower so small evincing daring simplicity
Angelika ArroyoPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBeginning and End
The valley cupped the dim light. Reluctant to surrender the blue hue preventing true shadow. Each tree recognizable in individuality, formed a seamless mass relinquishing nothing. Stars claimed their place above, yet that shallow crater denied the placement of any cowl. The frosted peaks entreated the fading glimmer, boasting their might against that which would hide them. Distinction segued into shape and shape into shadow till they were indistinguishable. The watery shadow lent itself to the indistinct, raising what had lain down. Obtuse became minute and minute obtuse as beauty unveiled itself in new form. The dying giants glimmered above, failing in comparison to the surrendered orb. That beacon that lent itself to another’s strength.
Ryan GibbensPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBeauty In The Pitiful Field
It was the early rise of dawn, dew drippling from the leaves that crumbled beneath my cold feet as they carelessly touch the soft surface of earth. All nature breathing and growing before my awakened eyes. My head hummed with soft hymns, I can once again recall the early memories of childhood, the never ending hours of morning sitting in a crowded room filled with the sounds of a faith-filled lullaby, reciting each song into the young memory I once possessed. Now I find myself staring into a misty field, a field that would not seem like much at first glance but this pitiful terrain sweeps into rolling hills, furthering into the steepest of mountain. Pale fingers gently tracing the smooth tips of grasses as it rustles in the breeze. I can’t help but admire the sky so blue, the fresh air in my lungs. For this is a field of vision. A place in which I come to collect my thoughts. Furthermore, it is on this day, in this field, I have come to a conclusion about this uncertain life of mine. It is that we all start off somewhere. We are born into this world with a quest and that is to find ourselves, to find what people we are meant to be within this society. Like this field we are not sculpted to perfection, there are days when the wind blows too strong knocking us off our path, sometimes the bitter winter freezes us in place, oh but must we never forget those welcoming summer days when the most delicate of flowers flourish with confidence, making love to the birds and the bees. Life shifts through hills of complication, far and wide. Ultimately life is a mountain and we are all climbing to reach the greatest point. We will endure struggles but the result is well worth the wait. For my eyes have not yet seen such a sight.
Laura sloanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsLove the Earth
I'm often told I am hippie By friends, family, and even strangers. Does loving the earth make you a hippie? If it does, then I am hippie.
tarah marshallPublished 7 years ago in PoetsNature's Child
She wears the night, the weather, like a cloak. Beneath her shoulders, the snow. Stars hidden within her hair, her pockets.
Ellen McAllisterPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Forest
Life is a lot like a forest Everything is so beautiful from the outside But once you try to explore that beauty It engulfs you
Matt TullyPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Autumn Glow
Searching for any sense of light in a dark field of shadows. Wind gently blowing across the path, giving you a feeling of serenity. When reaching the end of the path you feel yourself shiver, frozen, your eyes widening to the thought of turning back. The shadows have followed you. As you take a deep breath and shut your eyes, the shadows fade away, allowing light to shine through your heart. You feel as if you have no energy left, you fall to the ground. Catching your breath, as you turn around to see the shadows have vanished. Asking to yourself how simple it was to push away something so dangerous. You walk down the path, being able to see all the trees, leaves falling slowly onto the path, wind blowing softly, yet you feel a warmth cross upon you. Without any control, you smile. Walking slower down the path, seeing every detail in every leaf, branch after branch. You find yourself at the end of the path once more, taking a look back one last time to find nothing but peace. This is the autumn glow.
Morgan RicePublished 7 years ago in PoetsRockaway Beach
When I first saw the ocean It was not the sparkling, turquoise jewel I thought it would be The surf was slate grey The sky was heavy and ominous
A. R. AmbrosiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWild Woman
She is a wild woman She leaves her hair loose And sometimes twigs catch in it As she walks forest trails With eyes turned skyward
A. R. AmbrosiPublished 7 years ago in Poets