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Nature Prayer Poems | Nature Poems About Prayer

These Nature Prayer poems are examples of Nature poems about Prayer. These are the best examples of Nature Prayer poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

A Meadow's Sigh

The meadow’s breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew,
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.

Green and warm, full of life, the forest's skirt, the Maid's delight,
where rabbits dwell in lovers’ dells, a dream in morning light.

Gold and bright, full of life, the forest's skirt and Knight's delight;
life lies in grasses high, where lovers sleep and passion cries.

White and fair, full of life, the forest's skirt of pearly white;
burrowers sleep in bowers deep, hearths alight on chill nights.

The meadow's breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew;
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.

The men have made the meadow home, no rabbits now play there,
no deer appear so near the roads for cars bring them dispare.

The meadow was home to many things, butterflies, birds on wing,
yet, few can dwell where men reside, the forest's skirt swept aside.

The meadow’s breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew,
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011

Details | Monorhyme | |

Nature Prayer

Above the grass, a-buzz with bees upon a mellow summer breeze, the morning sun warms by degrees and from my sleepy memory flees the smother of the night’s unease which led me broken, to my knees. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Might I accept that what one sees in humble moments such as these by skyward visions through the trees entranced by warbling ancient seas these secret, sacred reveries piercing, piercing, my soul appease. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thus, when swallowed by disease or trapped between realities oh might I grasp, and ever seize my God, I beg, I beg it please; the healing warmth of summer breeze to guide me whole, back from my knees.
5/13/16 *Inspired by (but not entered in) the Nature Monorhyme contest hosted by Shadow Hamilton. -Great Contest Idea!

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sijo | |

Answered Prayer

I prayed for rain to visit us and to refresh our souls....
The heavens heard, and opened up, pouring water down the rice fields,
Washing off the seedlings that we had planted for a week.

** June 6, 2010 ^_^

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Great Spirit, Hear Me

Great Spirit, Hear Me

Oh Great Spirit, voice I hear in my dreams
 maker of lakes, mountains and streams
            Hear me.

I ask as one of your children 
I seek food for family I must feed
 Slow the deer that I may find
 Send my arrow true to its mark
 Great Spirit be in this so kind

Let me hear the forest praise You
The morning sun obey your call
The Sky water our lands 
That our tribe may not fall

Your voice, wisdom and strength 
hidden in the trees and the rocks
Give my days greater length
That I may care for my family

Oh Great Spirit, life to live
  send your voice in the Wind
  food for our children to eat
Show us the beauty in your making.

Robert J. Lindley,  10-19/2014

Native American prayer.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Permaculture Prayer

Redeem flame and fuel
of Climax Communities

Redeem light and warmth
my Climax Inclusiveness

Redeem fire and heat
our Climax Earth-Maintenance
recreating NOW

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) | |

Rain Dance

On a crisp autumn afternoon,
Much to my stunned delight,
Storms clouds morph into monsoon
With jagged spears of light
And thunder cracks of doom.

Dancing in the storm’s eye
Fat raindrops bouncing all around
Afraid I will soon die
Trying hard not to drown
So happy I could cry.

After months of summer sun
Rivers and streams almost dry
Rain pounding like a drum
No chance of blue sky
Praying more rain will come.

Copyright © Miss Sassy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |


Ancient deity of water and sky
Hear my most unworthy cry
Know that I ask without greed or guile
To borrow your strength for a little while
Although this prayer is my desire
I only ask what is truly required
Bathing in your sacred breath
As I sit in this circle in the earth
Knowing the elemental power
I convene with you at this zero hour

Copyright © Jenni Munn | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry | |

An Artist's Prayer

“An Artist's Prayer"
By Rachel Heffington

I've seen the Master Artist's brush
In deer so quiet, dusky-shy,
I've seen His charcoal pencil trace
A tree against the evening sky.
His watercolors have I glimpsed
In fragile petals of a rose.
A pastel masterpiece I view
Each time a day is at its close.
I've seen His sculpture in the way
The waves conform the rippling sand,
So Lord, please take this amatuer
And guide my ever-blundering hand!

Copyright © Rachel Heffington | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Grieve Forgotten Souls

Hidden on a lonely old daunting road Dark and melancholy clandestine Cemetery weary of last tears sowed. Undecipherable daunting shrines Bracing cold marble and granite tombstones Deeply rooted in hard defiant earth matter Some leaned drunkenly upon its groans Others stood in various states of disrepair Cracked or chipped, inscriptions , some eroded smooth mats of moss, and ivy clasp to its bosoms. Forgotten as they start to fade, embraced in wild vegetation, pits and mounds of decaying falling trees, and lace lichen. Uncertain of how many vessels interred there haunting the graveyard that time has soothe. Sad voices from the past echo overwhelming weeping emotions expressed sorrow and grief that won’t let go. Lived a life, but some died as an unknown in its stillness surrounded not wanting to be alone watching the world grow old. I step into this unforgotten cemetery, embracing a bouquet of yellow roses in my arms looking for a departed loved one. To no avail I laid a single rose and said a silent prayer with tears of wonder and sadness and grieve for all these forgotten souls.
10/6/2016 Poetry Contest: Overgrown With Vines Contest Info Sponsored By: Broken Wings

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

Machu Pichu

A staff is more than handhold, its worn
to the grasp, trust in what fell down from above.

The llama's sure foothold fits like our staffs
in the rocks climbing upward to the top to the sky.

We risk the blaze of sun, for the wide wings of condor
soaring, spiraling, hunting for a meal, never assured

except for his hold on the sky, flight, supreme
over the rocks and tumbles and worn out straw

of season of cold passing into days of warmth.
The spindle clatter, the roil and curve of weft needle

a prayer to on high, like the spirals of rock to the sky
the sun speaking to us at feet, these are complete

to the rest and remain of our escape to safety
in the cradle of our summer retreat, waiting for stars

to fall among us, waiting for stars to carry us away
from homes built within a circle of spires, three spires

to bring the ley lines of power into our grasp, to offer
escape from the dust and dung we live in, amazed.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

A Prayer to Clouds for all My Friends

A Prayer for all my friends in America and all over the World This Prayer Poem is for all my friends of America and for all those anywhere in the world who are waiting for Rains.
I have made this Prayer Poem on My Photo Poem and this can be seen in My Photo page on World Art Foundation This Prayer Poem actually supports my Folk Song ‘Folk Song of India -Farmer, Clouds, Rains and Trees’ placed on You Tube It may be a co incident but ever since I composed and placed the above Song on You Tube the drought like conditions improved in many parts of India drastically. A Prayer to Clouds for all My Friends O Clouds full of Rains Please go to my friend's place Where ever you see the land is dry And all the fields and trees Are waiting for your showers To get wet and to kiss Your ever refreshing Rains. You bless them With your nectar like Rains So their fields too May yield grains And their forests may be blessed With your love drops To again enfold you In their sweet and loving embrace.
O Clouds full of Rains Please go to my friend's place And give them The blessings of Your Beautiful immortal Rains. Ravindra Kanpur India 15th Aug. 2012
NOTE: Draught like conditions (not very acute almost 50% less Rains this year) prevailed in India in July, but after July last it improved in August and even some parts experienced excessive Rains till 27th August. I had composed a Song around 20th July for the Indian farmers as a Folk Song and have placed it in Poetry Soup on 24th July 2012 and on my Music Channel “RavindraKK1” on You Tube as a Folk Song of India. The Song explains the reasons of fewer Rains in the simple language of a farmer telling the story of Farmer, Clouds, Trees and Rains as a Folk Song of India. Ravindra 27th Aug. 2012

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Urban Forest

  All I hear are sirens echoing off tall buildings; a drunk man ranting, a prostitute looking for her next trick, a drug addict looking for his next fix. Young teenage kids who seem to have just learned the art of curse. A young couple fist fighting in the streets---more sirens.  A homeless man pan-handling, picking up cigarette butts and smoking a hole into his neck, gum pushed deeper into concrete marked blacker with every step. All I hear are sirens and I say a little prayer for the person in the back. Trains and boats chiming in the distance, a stray cat limping into an unknown existence...must be nice to have nine lives! Yet, all I hear are sirens in this concrete urban forest, where trees are replaced with buildings and cars are the only waves I hear, street lights in place of the stars, sirens in place of the wind. 

   I close my paper eyelids tight, i can hear in this concrete urban forest of man-nature, for a glimpse, a stolen second in time, the sound of Mother Nature...she still sings and she's crying. She's crying for the people in the back of all those sirens. She cries for her bush the drunk man urinated on; the puddle of blood collecting on her blades of grass that a young man drew from his womans lips. She cries for her branch the teenage kids snapped for fun. She's crying - Mother Nature - is crying, because man - nature takes her place. In this concrete urban forest...all I hear are sirens and I close my paper eyes; i try to reach out and steal the tear off of - Mother Nature's - face. All I hear are sirens and im saddened, man-nature takes her place.

Copyright © amy epiphany tunks | Year Posted 2012

Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

In the Hurricane's Eye

The swirling wind to touch the ground,
A sudden energy outbursts,
Yet its eye cannot see the found.

Above, a beauty to behold,
As it blindly wends its path,
Its wake of destruction unfolds.

Listen! A child’s voice speaks of love,
Calling out to the angels there,
Mercy’s prayer to powers above.

Surrounded by a violent rage
A child knelt in a calming peace,
Winds holding life within their sage.

Form: Enclosed Triplets

Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2012

Details | Triolet | |

Falling Snow

Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing
Sometimes they start snowballing
Outside the snow is falling
“Dinner is served”, their Mom is calling
The children don’t hear what she’s saying
Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing!

Copyright © Marvin D. Schrebe | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Beautiful, Glorious Day

Run, run, run and give it all up!
Into His arms, commend your love!
Through Him, you are saved!
What a beautiful, glorious day!

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry | |

To Wither and Die Not

Peace surrounds me on this day in May as I let destiny have it's own way I smile down on whom I am made grandly by all my yesterdays I will live again and all my hopes and dreams shall not shatter I am destiny's lost prodigal child, May has been a source of pain for me Seeming to harm me with it's innocent days hidden in coy smiles, yes it lied many times but not today, the day after yesterday beginning all my tomorrows We can not always live in the growing fields of flowers picking them and hanging them up to dry somehow in making something beautiful we forgot them and they did not dry, yet died We can not always hold onto our flowers some do not fare well to the process of living dry so today is not tomorrow nor yesterday but it will always be lost amongst some field of flowers No garden to train, yet sheer joy in what is natural for miles as far as the eye can see it is spring and I pat my body down, I lived through the night yes, I am alive, and did not die, as they live their destiny Yet, my flowers have no scent, and not many want them , but what glory can be found in the ordinary flower? the garden of no surprise with many needs to thrive, none, for there is nothing grander than a flower growing in fields wild Next year, it will spread it's seeds in the wind and prosper so much grander it will be each year there after, yes, growing wilder and my prayer is no one will cut them down or poison them ever-after yet someone will love the flowers growing wild tomorrow and the day after May they become a heart's desire, and glory will forever remain in those alive, and wild but never dried, or tamed, for how can we say nice things about something, we set aside to wither and die, in shame and pain, that should always be allowed to grow wilder, to wither and die not tomorrow or the day after
will edit when I get back home. SORRY GUYS!

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Concrete | |

Color's Of Night

These shades of grey all through the night always brings fourth enough light to where your right there in my sight. It's the colors of night, black and white with stars up high producing a forever light, helping to carry me forward with each passing day. For the colors black and white are both hot and cold, neutral too making them equal causing the starry night to turn grey, letting me see you as I'm suppose to. It's like the star afar, the twinkle of a diamond from the sky's of heaven that's so far away making way for our great escape.

Copyright © Terry Johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

River Prayer

Winding past sand dunes
like shapes of a cratered moon,
the river moves and ibis stand
on stick thin legs in the grand
flow of the Nile.

Mississippi muds ooze through
headwaters overflow
down to the shrimp bayou.

Macaws call in misty dawn
awakening monkey chatter
through swamps of the Amazon.

Frothy rapids cascade past 
cliffs that strain to touch the sky
above the Colorado's roar.

Out of  the old growth forest
comes a gurgle of water rushing as
the Willamette appears before us.

Winding, moving, crashing,
frothing, gurgling, roaring, oozing,
the stuff on which our lives depend,
our heritage,
our kin ...
this water.

Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2008

Details | Cowboy | |

The Farmer and The Cowboy / Deuteronomy 11:13

The Farmer woke, 
Before break of day, 
And for a little rain did pray. 
Then hitched his team, 
And plowed the land, 
Given him by the Master’s hand. 
The Cowboy awoke, 
And a prayer he sighed, 
“Please give us rain, for the prairie is dry.” 
Then in the heat, 
He did rope and brand, 
The cattle given him by the Master’s hand. 
At night, before sleep, 
The Farmer read, 
The words from the Bible that God had said, 
“If you’ll keep my Commandments, 
In it’s season I’ll make it rain, 
And you shall eat, 
And your land shall fill with grain.” 
The Cowboy fell asleep remembering, 
A verse his Ma had read, 
A promise God made and the words he said, 
“Love and serve the Lord God, 
And it shall come to pass, 
That I shall make it rain, 
And for the cattle, there shall be grass.” 
So each resolved, in his own way, 
To be a better man, 
And follow closely the Commandments, 
And there-fore save the land. 
And though they never met, 
They prayed for the same thing, 
And watched the sky for the clouds, 
And the rain that they would bring. 
And though it was long in coming, 
The drops fell upon the land, 
And revived and refreshed these special places, 
Given by the Master’s hand. 
The Farmer and the Cowboy, 
Each prayed for the land of which they were fond, 
And through their belief, they saved the Earth, 
Through the Lord’s Common Bond.

Copyright © Debra Coppinger Hill | Year Posted 2005

Details | Haiku | |

SK- 4

The silence 
In the roaring of those tides
God is a river

Copyright © viviane leite | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Words of Life

Drowning in the pool of anguish…oh…oh…
I’m venturing into the forest…and I want to hear the words seep out 
Release these aching sorrows…I worry my soul’s drying out…
like a drought…
Drain out the fluids from my heart
It’s gouging me…bruising me to the core…

Embrace the light…embrace the midnight sky…
You fall in my arms – you die so warm
Shed me more sun to lift up my spirits
From the…underground…and release me – I’m breathless
I’m drowning in doubt…ooh… oh… 

Remember me…I’m falling…into my swirling fate…hanging on the roots 
Strangling my heart…distorting in my veins… I’m bleeding so softly – cut out the wood…
Splintering me…I’m shattering… and I’m falling in the abyss
Bring me more radiance from my candle light
Warp me up in bliss…don’t let the midnight sky…don’t take away my delight
From the…ocean…and save me—save me…oh… oh…  I’m failing 


I’m drowning in regret…ooh..oh…
Hit the bull’s eye in my heart…embrace the light
And don’t leave me hanging in the abyss…hand me a kite!
Save me before I fall apart…shut out the night
And don’t let the dusk escape us…

I must confess…
I must confess…
I hate to see you abandon the light…
But I’m not the one to save you from the night


Splintering lies fill your heart 
I want to kiss it goodbye…
But you’ve mastered it like a piece of art
I want to kiss the abyss and die…
Dry… I wanna touch the sky with my whole soul
But I’m failing and the end of time has taken its toll
Tainted sorrow…swims around me…I dwell where the waters depart
But the anguish still swarms in my heart…
I’m failing…my heart stops beating
And my desires are fleeting
From my grasp
And the monsters laugh at me…as I fall… 


Embrace the midnight sky…catch me…catch me…
As I fall in death’s arms…I die so cold
And your heart is made of gold

Untangle the darkness & take away the nightmares 
Answer our prayers & block out the night 
Erase the heartaches & wipe away our tears
Unravel Your words of life & delight

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

My Future Generation

I can act insane
Make me feel worthless

I belong in God’s family
He will bless my future generation

Don’t punish me for
Being myself –
Don’t envy my glee 

I can act like an
Adult, but I’d 
Prefer to have joy…

Not stress…
That piles upon us in our 
Everyday lives

Being childlike is

A rare beauty – 

No one prizes it…

No one came across it…

In this lifetime…

I can laugh all day
I can make you smile
If you’d accept my 
Childlike dreams of mine
Don’t treat me like a sick swine

Renew my young heart
Give me the ability 
To kill the old man…

I have my place in God’s family
He’ll be adored and glorified 
We’ll exchange prayers and hugs  
By my future generation

I beg of you – 
Don’t kill my childlike mentality
I’ll behave myself…
I’m positively sure that I’ll make you happy

I’ll still have pieces of a child in me

And pass it on to my future generation…

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

What Have I Seen


Sunrise, late winter
skunk smell
turkey flock
playful otter, too.

The white heron
a great blue,
white phase,
in the abandoned beaver pond.

Purple clematis
its long-awned achenes
in globose heads
spidery, fiery, extravagant fruit!

To identify or classify
birds by
the complexity or beauty
of their songs.

And so
what is over that
ridge or hill
a sink-hole, a sand dune, a steep bluff.


What must I do. Organize
the heretofore unorganized. The rabble
of unemployed child abusers.
Molesters of their intimates.

Are there dysfunctional bird families?
Simply put, they do not survive.
We have hope
that everyone alive is essential,

consequential. We classify
and specify.
The commonplace and everyday
is sanctified.

What happens everyday?
Morning is quiet, everyone at work.
Home writing, watching birds.
Afternoon, kids come back from school.

Evening, watch tv.
Scotch and Star Trek.
Captain Picard's problems eclipse
ours who stayed behind.


Pray to Allah
and maybe he will spare you
when he sets the world
on fire.

Where or with who
will I be on that day?
And how many people and adventures
will I find in the wind storm and rubble?

I may live, but will it matter
whether or not I help anyone else to live?
This is no Last Judgement.
Those who have learned or who still know how to live

will survive.
Nobody will go to hell, they will just die.
There is no limbo either.
Anyone who didn't find a way to be immortal is just dead.

So, what am I trying to do.
Organize the unemployed, the welfare mothers
and alcoholics
into a flying chevron of purposeful explorers?


The doctor's conscious, organized,
naive attempt to do good,
his legacy, versus the randomness
of the road and the war zone.

There his legacy is his rectitude and natural
rough compassion for the damaged people
he encounters. The difference
between planning a legacy

as if you knew enough to control events
and letting the legacy arise
from events themselves, controlling,
insofar as you are able, only

your own actions and reactions.
The doctor's leadership role such as it was
grew out of not his material possessions
like the car

but his mission, his personal quest
to find the young doctors he had naively trained
and sent into the war zone
where all died.


July-a cold city
not as great or as gritty
as I thought, summer theater left
the shoe shine bereft of customers

eyes cold as a bureaucrat's
except for our soles
and their leather. Sweat-soaked
girls, the beautiful ones left town.

Emotionless as a bus.
Sparrows, no chickadees.
All that's important happens indoors.
Exercise to philosophies.

You get what you see.
The panhandlers ask
just once, won't risk
friendship, justice.

No sale today
in the finite city
where, for the shoe shine,
pedestrians are infinite, times two shoes.


Faith = wait + trust.
But don't anticipate.
Popper prohibits prediction.
Niebuhr expects destruction.

I believe in God
doesn't mean there's a sketch
of a man in my head. It must mean
all will be well in the end.

Satisfied with snow
or summer. And now
with dying old or younger.
Gold or paper clips. Gulps or sips.

In the final resting place
in the city of the dead
are there all night card games
and sometimes open swims?

Each inch, square, or cube of Earth
brim with grasses and sedges, dragonflies and spiders, sparrows and eagles.
The tiger lily and the water lily and the lily of the valley, the calla lily.
When a girl on a bicycle smiles, that is a smile.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

Prayer of a Mantis

A leaf with big eyes
Prays God to protect creatures
From MAN with big shoes

Copyright © iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Mother Gaia - A Lighthouse Prayer

I feel the winds and smell the sea,
The Earth's a living entity.
The Earth's alive! SHE is alive!
SHE breathes, SHE moves; yet does SHE thrive?

Somehow SHE strives and lives aware.
SHE still survives and I must care.
We all must care and be aware.
There are problems we all must share.

We'll let it be a challenge then
and though we are mere mortal men;
working together makes more sense,
together makes the difference.

There's simple things we all can do
to make our hopes for Earth come true.
There's simple choices we can choose.
Reduce, recycle and reuse.

This is now my Light-House prayer.
Once made aware we all will care.
We'll be enlightened and aware.
The future's bright if we but dare.

I feel the winds and smell the sea,
The Earth's a living entity.

Copyright © Dory Chrest | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

A Forest Fire's Prayer

please make me more simple.
kill the most part of my life.

if arson is my destiny,
let me  turn to ashes nothing but the dry leaves
on feet of the trees, so they’ll grow denser with ease.

tell sorrowful tales to the sky
about wild orchids, dead before they bloom
about fallen seedless fruits.
about birds lost in smoke, birds losing their nests.
make her cry. make the sky shed her tears.
help the forest foster more leaves and grow 
a greener green. 

take me to the town’s waste
to the kitchens of the famished
to the veins of those shivering with loneliness
to the couple who’ve spent too long sharing 
their backs with one another

please make me more humble.

Copyright © Aan Mansyur | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain | |


The tree stood stark and lonely,
All naked in the cold.
Her branches bare, her lovely leaves,
The breath of Winter stole.

In spite of all she stood yet proud,
Her branches raised to Heaven,
A silent prayer in her heart,
For Winter's sleep to lessen,

The pain she felt amid the cold,
The biting wind so cruel,
And please let not some human come,
And use her wood for fuel.

Then the winter queen looked down,
On Tree with sympathy,
And gave to her a lovely gown,
Of snow in symmetry.

Now the tree stands all adorned,
In glowing winter grandeur,
And all who see her stand in awe,
Of Tree in Winter's splendor.

Thanks to Phyllis Babcock for her poem "TREE" which inspired this one.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku | |

morning prayer

Dark eyed stellar crown          
I lay out seeds for breakfast
Our morning prayer

Copyright © linda milgate | Year Posted 2010