nature poetry

An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.

Water Water
A little mermaid in a cascade of ocean spilling from above.
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
A Sky
So many photos... It's so hard to pick just one, but who says I must?
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
Larkspur
Canyon born, sipping the wisdom of Grande Ronde from weathered springs deep within pebble jeweled ground. I sing their songs in the golden hush of morning
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Negligence Killed the Teenager
That’s Sol Duc waterfall, a fascinating place, in the deep rainforest of the Pacific Northwest. I remember the trek under
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
Let's Head to Nature
Our egos are our enemies, they want to be flattered, so we do things that make us unhappy. In the society we live, comparison is rampant.
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
Petals Against the Silence
Petals Against the Silence By Sahil’s Reflection She leans on stone that does not feel, A mask of time, so cold, so real.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Poets
When Time Tilts
A gasp, a sigh A grasp at when and why A laugh, a cry A last chance For goodbye A puff of wind Never to be again A path that ends
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
The Little Bird Who Sang to the Sky
Upon a branch of morning gold, A little bird, so brave, so bold. Its feathers gleamed in gentle light, A fragile spark in endless flight.
By Emma about a year ago in Poets
The Little Deer in the Whispering Woods
In the hush of dawn’s embrace, Where sunlight paints the forest’s face, A little deer with eyes so wide, Stepped from the trees, without a guide.
By Emma about a year ago in Poets
Blue Chair at the Edge (2019)
This is a prose with characters and script. The idea arrived in my brain after feeling blue yesterdays of then and now from 2019 to 2025. It's about a broken relationship with a family member and the day I shot the photo of the lone blue chair looking out across the ocean from a cliff in Palos Verdes, California in 2019.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
The Second First Time
It had been years since I stepped into the ocean. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid. Somewhere between growing older and growing cautious, I’d convinced myself that salt water had become foreign to my skin. I told myself it wasn’t the same, that I wasn’t the same.
By nawab sagarabout a year ago in Poets
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In the summer noon, Like a winter night, A silence, A hush prevails. The doves’ cooing, A meditative still; Time slackens,
By Rehanabout a year ago in Poets