nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Morning Wake
Where dew meets leaf And chill meets bone Morning is where I call home Sun brings to touch The darkened dead This is where I lay my head
Max MessickPublished 6 years ago in PoetsElusive
Bittersweet & elusive, Something that will not be held. Something that simply IS, (And is present) And can be kept but faintly,
J.E. HinrichsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe Gifts of the Solar Sea
The warmth of the sun, Is where all the tiny wildflowers find the most fun, The twang purples of the lavender, The fragrance of the earth is my reminder.
Wulfwaru the Lonely WriterPublished 6 years ago in PoetsYou Feel at Peace
You're floating and your mind is clear. You let the movement of the ocean rock you with her comforting arms, and let the waves cover you like a blanket. You feel at peace.
Letters to Nature
Trees Every so often when I am feeling down, you give me the strength to look up to your glory. The beauty of your essence makes me feel whole.
Nubiana JayPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMurky Lake
Sometimes at murky lake with the tall tales Breaking a green sealant on runny marsh Some endure, some only submerge Others go deep below into darkness
bethany alicePublished 6 years ago in PoetsLosing Ground
The animals chirp and play in the trees As I walk through the calm autumn breeze Such a lovely day, the sun shines down leaves are turning and falling to the ground.
An Unnamed Girl Wanders Thereafter
A whistle in the wood, she walks. A silence in the soul, she strays. A mirage in the mire, she wanders. Skies grow vast and dark.
Breanna SahrPublished 6 years ago in PoetsOur Meadow 💐
As the clock steadily tick-tocks, we’re reminded of our dreams like the morning dew drops The sun peaks and for a moment time stops, we realize the power of the sunrise is the power of our thoughts
impeccablyHER .Published 6 years ago in PoetsLight
It is the colours of the sky It was the rays of the sun It was the white in the clouds It is the thin air It was the pink trees
Vittoria ZerbiniPublished 6 years ago in PoetsWinter's Solstice
The stereotypes of winter only slightly differ, to some they only like it because they can get away with mixing Eggnog with their liquor.
Stephanie LiftonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsChiaroscuro
there's an orange sunset seeping into the horizon. a horizon you see every day. lined with sycamores, with weeping willows, with sturdy oaks and fraying shrubs. squirrels scold. goldfinches trill. a snake flits past your feet. it's black, sides striped highway yellow, eyes wide and puppy-like. too fast to see in any detail: a blur of lines. a flock of raucous white-specked starlings has taken roost in the oak that hangs over your roof, and show no signs of moving on.
Felecia BurgettPublished 6 years ago in Poets