An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
The Robin our Sweetest Bird A flash of fire on feathered breast, A tiny heart that knows no rest. Perched on a branch, a song takes flight,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets
A dusted blue indigo sunset A bat in the sky and I. First hefty spring bug Rises from the grass- Slowly, drowsily. Bouncing in the balmy air.
By Salomé Saffiri2 years ago in Poets
My Chilly days with my weather man I fell in love with the weather man, It was full of ups and downs. One day he blew hot, then next so cold,
The stars had burned for eons, their light whispering secrets across the vast, unending void. But some mysteries were never meant to be solved. Not by men, not by gods.
By Olayinka Atiyeye2 years ago in Poets
The clock ticks louder in the dead of night,Each second stretching, holding tight.A breath caught halfway, a chest too tight,The weight of the world in the absence of light.
By Mr Ali2 years ago in Poets
The sky is clear, the air is bright, a dream starts off evolved its mild flight. It rises high, above the trees, Carried softly via way of means of the breeze.
By MD Alhaz Hossen2 years ago in Poets
Footprints pressed in golden sand,Soon erased by the ocean’s hand.Laughter echoes, then fades to air,A vanished song—was it ever there?
Introduction This is my thirtieth piece inspired by Angie Livingstone's amazing artwork. You can find her on Facebook on the link below.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Poets
Leprechauns shaking shillelaghs As the leper cons say pay me Butterflies in disguise as they spin their lies Spiders trickling down
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Suddenly, a volcano Appeared from her bed She was breathing heavily The burning debris inside her body was slowly burning the inside
By Rohitha Lanka2 years ago in Poets
The wind hums through golden fields, carrying whispers of childhood laughter, soft as the hush of falling petals. Barefoot on sun-warmed earth,
By Printique Studios2 years ago in Poets
I sit with the moon, and shiver in the wind. There's red on her fringes, a veil over her face. Luna? I ask. Aren't you afraid?
By M. A. Mehan 2 years ago in Poets
