For several thousands of years
you upheld the sacredness of Nature
avoiding wanton destruction
of plant and animal life
taking only what you needed
since their sacredness was
just as important to you
as the sacredness of humanity
When harvesting wild rice for food
you let some fall into the water
to produce crops for the future
Surrounding a pack of wild sheep
while hunting in the mountains
you let a male and female escape
so by their reproductive process
they would ensure the
continuation of their species
You saw yourself as part of Nature
living in harmony with it
and not plundering it with greed
Your religion was to respect Nature
viewing all plants and animals
as parts of its magnificent fabric
Abuse of a part of it was
an abuse of the whole
Your way of life
provides valuable lessons
that can teach mankind how
to deal with today's ecological crisis
that threatens the survival
of all life on the planet
You were the genuine
Guardian of the Environment
I have always admired the way of life of the Native American Indians living in harmony with Nature before the advent of the Europeans. By extension, this applies to all indigenous peoples including the Amerindians and Polynesians. This piece is dedicated to them.
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
Must make haste
Time for "waste"
Copyright © M. Hussain Effendi | Year Posted 2011
Vanilla bean skin,
Cool sweet breath and cherry lips
Make kissing dessert.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007
He walked amid the woodlands muted morn.
The scents of earth were wafting on the breeze.
For dawn had moistened yet another day.
And silence dripped beneath the autumn trees.
A rustle in dry leaves, he caught a glimpse.
His gun caressed the warmth of flannel sleeves.
The silent hunter, stalking, tiptoed near.
A golden-red meandered through the leaves.
The sun began to rise above the knoll.
It shone upon dark eyes; the gun rose high.
The pheasant flickered leaves; then, heard a crunch.
He recognized the scent; the man walked nigh.
Red feathers, brightly accented with gold,
Were ruffled as he took his fighting pose.
The cockerel next to man had no defense.
So, high above the trees the pheasant rose!
His hungry children waited back at home.
He rushed along the trail up to the crest.
The pheasant lost from view; his stomach growled.
The hunter and his gun had done their best.
At noon, the hunter rested on a log.
The water in his canteen, nearly dry,
No morsel did he eat as day grew long.
The stealthy man could hear his children’s cry.
December 1, 2014
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry) - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2014
ENOUGH FOR ALL
All the species of this world, whether mammal, fish or bird
Are provided with their food, whatever their taste
Each created for the other,
When the offspring leaves the mother
There is all the food that’s needed without waste.
The ants will feed the lizard, and in turn, it feeds the Hawk
The flies they feed the spiders, then the frogs.
The amphibian feeds the snake
Which the Kookaburras take
And in time, they all feed ants inside the logs.
The logs fall from mighty trees that house and feed the tiny bees
that fertilize the plants we use as foods.
With rain and sun the crops will flourish
And when harvested, they can nourish
All the peoples in the world, if we so choose
Foods for all the nations are here in God’s Creations,
Glorious is the spirit that’s big enough to care.
Food goes where it’s needed
If our sight is not impeded
Or we keep it for ourselves when there’s enough for all to share.
In this world of ours we’re brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers,
We’re all related by living on this earth.
Whatever we do tomorrow
Can bring happiness or sorrow
Today is when we work out what it’s worth.
Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012
Springs around the corner
what wondrous things we'll see,
bulbs popping up above the ground
giving joy to you and me,
time to tidy up our plot, lots of digging too,
weeds to pull, beds to hoe
lots of things will have to go.
You have to be a little brave
if that rose you want to save,
but you will learn that over time
you've got to be cruel, just to be kind,
The flower beds need a tidy
take all that dead stuff off the top,
veg plots being well dug over
hoping for a bumper crop.
Seeds to sow, hope they'll grow !
then the lawn will need a mow.
And when all the hard work is done
you can sit back and be pleased,
wind , rain and sun you have grown all you need.
Copyright © jacque lee | Year Posted 2007
there once was a flying monkey who didn't know what to eat. so he ate the old scraggly poop hanging from his butthole. His friends thought he was weird but i didnt. i do that all the time. it tastes good.
Copyright © Matt Poopenheimer | Year Posted 2012
Cool water teases and tickles my toes
Whilst a warm summer breeze gently blows
I sit here silently on the sun kissed wooden pier
Somehow the ducklings know that I’m here!
Mummy always gives me a big bag of bread
So I make sure every duckling will get fed
They quack and splash in the water so blue
I love to watch them feeding, I really do!
The ducklings gather round me patiently waiting
Food in their tummies they are all anticipating
I try to throw the bread far out to sea
The ducklings quack ‘that piece is for me’
Soon the bread is gone, they have eaten every crumb
Still they gather round me, but now my task is done
It’s time for my dinner now, so I tell them I must go
But I will return again tomorrow, I hope the ducklings show.
Contest Feeding the Ducklings Sponsored by Eve Roper
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
Red rasberries wait
Falling toward ground to splat...
Hand catches mid-air
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010
Early in the morning just beyond daybreak, the cooing of doves
Coo, coo, coo always in threes, conveying to its mate of his love
Soon sun will be higher, proof of love will begin with the feedings
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010
Apples.. beetles.. caterpillars..
fertile ground.. hollyhocks..
Ivy jumbled kegs..
leafy mint.. nematodes..
quiet rest sunsets.. tomatoes under vines..
wheelbarrows.. xanadu yearning zeal!
Copyright © Patricia Sawyer | Year Posted 2010
I am the predator you watch up in the sky
Blessed by the Lord with the keenest of eyes
I nest in the canyons high up on the walls
Keeping my babies safe from it all
When my babies grow hungry and it's time to feed
I rely on my senses to provide what they need
As I take to the sky it's so clear to see
You think of freedom while looking at me
Protected from hunters I've no need to hide
As upon the currents I gracefully glide
As I circle the sky throughout the day
I scour the ground searching for prey
When prey is spotted I go into my dive
Know that speed and accuracy are how I survive
You duck and you dodge for no use at all
With you held in my talons I fly back up the wall
Back to the nest to the fruit of my seed
For you are the food my babies need
Then back to the sky where I notice under a tree
One peaceful poet is writing of me
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
L A T E
S N O W
S L O W
G R O W
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009
apples overhang the orchard wall,
sun-kissed drapes now about to fall.
hedgerows ablaze with succulent sweets
will-power melts in a crumble
inspired by Constance's contest
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009
The tide shifted
The sun blazed into the cuddy hatch
Moments later the anchor re caught
To tip the empty glass to the deck
The eyes opened then squeezed tightly
Shut to the sudden glare
Awareness filled the suddenly small space
Tide turn two o’clock sun
Line to tend
Wind picking up
Lets hope the fish run as well as the nap did
Now we’ll see if those hours of baiting
Where worth the effort
Two long pulls on the icy thermos
Then out into afternoon sun
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010
My nightmare is so tangible...so vividly I dream,
The dream, it feels so true to me...reality it seems.
Exhaust and smoke are all I breathe...the air is full of smog...
The job I do is thankless toil, but I work it like a dog.
There's mercury in the fish I eat...there're toxins in my food...
And drugs, they are a constant scourge...myriads for every mood.
Bipolar is my government...a house divided 'tis...
And corporations drive both sides...in the pockets of "Big Biz".
The icecaps, they are melting...the sea is rising, too.
Pandas, condors, polar bears -- empty cages at the zoo.
My money ne'er seems quite enough...I'm always out of cash...
My freedom fled when I wed my bride...(live I under the lash).
"Entertainment"? Reality TV...maybe some vampire shows...
Or idjits becoming household names for being beachfront "ho's".
People clamor "climate change" from the seats of S.U.V.'s,
And bitter news on the honey front...what's killing all the bees?
Politicians spending more...we go deeper in the red.
Opinions dressed as "news" abound...is journalism dead?
Cell phones are ubiquitous...conversation's endangered now...
And "Kardashians" are famous girls..but who knows why or how?
How strange my twisted psyche is t'make real what must be fake...
Now'f only I could find some way to get myself to wake.
Written on November 27th, 2012
By Daniel Beus (Rebel Sun)
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
I’d love to be with you in a canoe
accompanied by summer’s softest breeze,
enjoying the verdant valley view
while drifting on a river lined with trees.
Ahead would be a peak that whisks the sky.
We’d look above us from our little boat
to where the eagle and the osprey fly
as in the quiet glow of dusk we’d float.
We’d dock on sand and find a cozy spot
to roast some hot dogs in our campfire’s heat
and spread the luscious picnic foods we’d brought;
then relishing tranquility, we'd eat!
Amid dark, silent pines, by fire's bright light,
we'd snuggle happily into the night.
For Carol Brown's "Picnic Time" Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
The Quakers, being religiously persecuted, set sail from expatriated England;
they were the first settlers to reach the shore of New England: a free land!
Later the Puritans came and settled in other eastern, bustling colonies
seeking the same religious freedom, but their urge was stronger than dreams.
Many moved westward on foot, on horseback and on overloaded wagons...
exploring the American wilderness plundered by indigenous Indians;
they searched for grassland everywhere, to let their cattle roam and graze;
first they built wooden shacks on vast, lush prairies full of Queen Ann's Lace.
And out of this American westward expansion, came the fearless pioneers,
who sought gold mines...despite the wild cowboys causing troubles
with heavy drinking and desire for unscrupulous women, seeking money and pleasure,
who served them more whisky and lured them to a room with a demeaning measure.
Beyond the Rocky Mountains' and the Appalachians Mountains' skies,
these diligent pioneers obtained wealth with sweat and sacrifices...
changing and shaping the wild landscapes of arable land,
avoiding the drudgery of getting stuck in mud and sand.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
Fantastic friends fry fresh fish friday for fun
Copyright © Harley Green | Year Posted 2011
< amidst .... apple tree
black bear .... pounces limb
cubs wait .... below
Fall Animal Haiku Contest
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010
Ocean draws me love
Come, come relax as waves tap
Toes, pelicans, gulls
Fun floating face down
Snorkel, mask, strange ocean clown
Below fish dart, chase
Look for love, food, fun, frolic
Love, food, fun, frolic,friendship
Fish congregate in close schools
Human congregate in needs
Needs as poetry shared
Contest:"Fun & Frolic"
Written by: Sara Kendrick
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
What was better than pumpkin
pie stuffed in my eye? Nothing
more than a burger and a fry..
That's why I wonder why?
If pancakes are great at
breakfest time? A sandwich
is great at lunchtime?
A spaghetti a great meal at
dinner time? But what was
better than just old fashion
ham on rye? Nothing more
than a burger and a fry..
Lunchtime Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2010,2014..All rights reserved.
Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2014
what new plant is this
flowering bees this morning
and butterflies too?
running to and fro
a group of ants in action
searching for food
bathed in the sunshine
shimmering pools of water
pulsating with life
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
in plush, green, quilted fabric from which
boundless rows of life emerge.
A season of reward, given for seasons of reserve.
Woodlands. Cavernous, leaf-found sentinels.
Refuge and shelter to every frail, native creature.
The green leaf of summer refreshes and makes opulent
each breath of life taken on earth.
Rain. A cloudburst's baptismal penance.
Restoring the host, as tears grant
Absolution to the soul.
Waters feed stream and winding rivulet.
Capillaries in the earth are filled
with this vital plasma of life.
Sky. A clear-blue jewel.
Alight during the day, darkening
and cooling the night.
Two faces, one of aquamarine.
One of tanzanite.
Carrier of warm summer breezes
that lift wings, the high soaring raptors.
Wafting the intoxicating incense
of flower, corn tassel, and new mown hay.
Bounty. The enigma of melding such elements.
Nature's providence, given until the
next new season of bud and leaf.
Every stalk, tuber, pod, ear, or head of grain,
transformed into rich food.
Alloys forged in the cool furnace
of seed, soil, and rain.
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015
Pioneers had to cut down thousands of trees
to build their shacks and to stay warm
in harsh winters; we cut them down
for huge profits...not caring about
the devastation of deforestation
that soon will cause floods and landslides.
When Nature dies, everything that embellishes
the lovely and green landscapes dies with it;
a land without shrubs and trees is a desert
with miles of cracked soil that rain won't saturate
and make vegetation grow to attract humans,
fauna and flora to make everything lively.
I have used my keen sight to describe it,
and instinct to anticipate the dreariness to come;
doesn't joy derive from something grown,
and beauty from something seen and admired?
But where's the commitment that all should make
to keep our land a Paradise for everyone to enjoy?
We should profoundly lament when Nature dies from neglect
and abuse...hear the sorrowful cries of fowls and wolves,
of other animals that used to roam and graze
on prairies and wild meadows on breezy days;
and how can we survive without the crops
in due season? Won't we perish and disappear like Nature?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2013
Round heels of crumpets,
aromatic lavender jam.
Poached eggs in a skillet,
succulent portions of ham.
An awakening stretch had heralded
a yawn mouthed long and loud.
While rain fell down in splatters
from the dark pewter clouds.
Dated Macintosh slicker,
hoary exhausted gum boots.
Tenacious steps into nature
in search of family and roots.
The fallacies of the wind
twists hair into long plaits.
Across wide fields of enchantment
new journeys await.
Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012
In the meadow, weeds flowering
By a cluster of old shade trees
Make a lovely scene attracting
Some butterflies and honey bees
Butterflies sipping each flower
Flit happily from bloom to bloom
Flaunting their wings of gossamer
Giving each other lots of room
Several colours of the rainbow
Painted on their gossamer wings
Put on a brilliant colour show
Such a happy feeling it brings
Bees also join in the feasting
Imbibing each flower's nectar
Doing so with joyful humming
In their role as honey maker
Weed flowers are in Nature's brood
Springing up where ever they please
They assist in providing food
For butterflies and honey bees
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014