nature poetry

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

Robert Frost: The Poet of New England’s Heart
Early Life and Influences Frost’s early life was marked by instability and hardship. His father, a journalist and a politically ambitious man, died of tuberculosis when Frost was only 11 years old. This loss prompted the family to move to Lawrence, Massachusetts, to live with Frost’s maternal grandparents. It was in New England, with its rolling landscapes and rural communities, that Frost found his poetic voice. His environment—its woods, fields, and hardworking people—became the backdrop for much of his poetry.
By Mr Ali2 years ago in Poets
Why humanness in its virtue fails
Grieving through the breathing crevices of my mourning soul, I propelled through piercing glances of the ones who chose to score their goal.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
After the Conflict
The dust settles, a shaky ceasefire in the kitchen light, the air gritty with unspoken regrets, yesterday’s words like shrapnel
By souhila2 years ago in Poets
Sunfire
a setting orange globe, blazing the sky afire sinking beneath clouds Copyright © 1/21/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin I am thrilled you stopped by! 😃 Please subscribe to me—it's free. (You can also enable notifications.) Click the ♡, leave a comment, and share with your friends.
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Poets
A Winter Friend
It's snowing ---------- In Every Every Every In every second going, A lessoning A lessoning A lessoning. Don't Don't Don't Not stop And If every starts back, Then go south, Where that way. Very Very Very Very Very Hot and Your Your Your Your Your Fire sparks. Trust...
By K.A. Smith2 years ago in Poets
Frozen . AI-Generated.
The world lies still, wrapped in white, A frozen land bathed in moonlight. Icicles hang like nature’s art, A masterpiece, cold yet full of heart.
By Taviii🇨🇦♐️2 years ago in Poets
THOSE WHO SOW APPLE SEEDS
I see this prompt and imagine myself, walking amongst apple trees, picking apples of my choice to enhance my health. The feeling is wonderful.
By Emos Sibu Poriei (Kaya)2 years ago in Poets
Fleeing The Icy Morning
Shards of icy glass slap my sleep-lined face. The cold, unforgiving, like a Queen bee to her hive. ** Air weave icicles
By Daphsam2 years ago in Poets
Emily Dickinson: The Reclusive Genius of American Poetry
Early Life and Background Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was born on December 10, 1830, in Amherst, Massachusetts, into a prominent and well-educated family. Her father, Edward Dickinson, was a lawyer and politician, while her mother, Emily Norcross Dickinson, managed the household. The Dickinson family valued education, and Emily attended Amherst Academy and later Mount Holyoke Female Seminary (now Mount Holyoke College), though she left after one year due to health issues and perhaps her discomfort with the institution's rigid religious environment.
By Mr Ali2 years ago in Poets
Walt Whitman (1819–1892): A Pioneer of American Poetry
Early Life and Influences Whitman was the second of nine children in a working-class family. His formal education ended at age 11, but he was an avid reader and self-taught intellectual. He worked as a printer, teacher, and journalist, all of which shaped his understanding of language, people, and society. These experiences also exposed him to the contradictions of the American Dream—poverty, slavery, and class struggles—elements that later permeated his poetry.
By Mr Ali2 years ago in Poets
A Night Alone in Tredegar
Walking in the night, Lights shining bright, In Tredegar, Looking out on to the James, The breeze in my hair, So warm and debonair,
By April Denise Stuart2 years ago in Poets
Roaring Fury of the Sky
In the darkness of the night, a flash of lightA rumble echoes in the distance, a fearsome sightThe thunderclap shakes the earth, a powerful forceNature's wrath unleashed, on its wild courseThe roar of thunder, like a lion's growlA symphony of chaos, a mighty scowlThe clouds twist and turn, in a tumultuous danceThe thunder's voice, an ominous tranceEach strike of lightning, a crack in the nightA brilliant display, a mesmerizing sightThe thunder's fury, a force to beholdA reminder of nature's power, fearless and boldSo as the storm rages on, heed its warning cryRespect the thunder's might, and watch it pass byFor in its wake, the world will be renewedAnd the skies will clear, with a sense of gratitudeThe thunder's roar, a symphony of aweA reminder of nature's balance and lawSo listen closely, to its fierce cryFor the thunder's fury, will never die.
By Raj’s Vocal2 years ago in Poets