An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Incredibly, I am calmed. My soul has settled after I stomped and screamed. The mountains shook, but now water runs clear and calm. Finally, finally, happy.
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets
Halfway through the drive I wondered if the world here felt as in-between as I did, the summer breeze already flirting with autumn,
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Introduction This is my fifty-eighth piece inspired by Angie Livingstone's inspirational artwork. My friend Cherri's daughter is called Autumn, so this is for her as well.
By Mike Singleton đź’ś Mikeydred about a year ago in Poets
In halls of light where virtue grows, Intentions bloom like bright red rose, Yet buried deep beneath their shade, Lie seeds of cost we never weighed.
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
"A double rainbow— what a serendipitous joy, viewed from my window." Rainbows are rare and ephemeral phenomena. Sometimes we get lucky enough to witness this serendipitous beauty.
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
By [Wow Genius] In shadows deep, I curled so tight, A prison dark, no hint of light. The world outside felt far away, I dreamed of skies, but here I lay.
By Wow Geniusabout a year ago in Poets
I walk where the morning is painted in gold, Through whispers of stories the breezes have told. Each step is a promise, each breath is a hold,
By Emma about a year ago in Poets
The rain fell hard on a weary day, Its silver hands tried to wash me away. Yet deep inside, I could hear you say, “The sun will come, just don’t lose your way.”
The rafters have sagged to a prayerless lean, and the bell sleeps with its mouth to the floor. No hand has struck it since the locust year,
By Taylor Wardabout a year ago in Poets
Damn that smug old Robert Frost! Path less traveled? Well, I’m LOST! Twenty wood posts make a fence But it makes no difference
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Poets
The Snow Man, The Scarecrow, and The Worm The snow man stood by the garden gate his eyes were stones and his smile was flat
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Leaves whispered to me in golden tones, that beauty isn’t meant to last forever. They fell, not in despair, but in a gentle surrender to the wind.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Poets
