Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Nature Death Poems | Nature Poems About Death

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Epic | |

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

ONE WORD~

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my veins,
                                   
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night
Cool air beneath and above the sea
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing
Up ahead in a virtue distance
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-     
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again
Twilight, rain stranger than strange
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture
"From the red Heaven I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"

Perhaps this venerable moment, will pass slower than slow
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept, and then decline
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways 
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?	
When I no longer value the values of the young
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart
They're the voices give and take from our health

Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria
UNITY! 
YES UNITY! Fantabulously-fantastic!
Always, wanting more than love can touch

We are living' it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips
Prisoners and doers; 
All night…. Too late for a treatment
Lungs, decaying, evil rats
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________

By; pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

A Night At The Desolate Harbor

The ship in the habor on silvery seas Lay vacant outspread 'neath the glassy moon Drifting in cold whispers of the night Like a drunk man shriveled on clasping knees In the loud echoes of the crawling winds The brave ship nods its old head Restless on the empty stage of the bay When lonely stars bleed their light On what was once earthly sublimity Now silence and haunt lingers there A graveyard of bones and sadness Beside the desolate harbor Rustling in the cold distance Laboring with a haunting melody That invades me in shivers of night. Sadness defeats The happy spaces of my mind Then your sweet kiss would descend Oh... your sweet kiss would descend As a fragrant memory Thawing the pain In the frost of my heart. My soul beckons your presence But silence became my loyal friend And Emptiness - The sorrowing of my hours That slithers through the night As the brave ship nods its old head Crackling and desolate In silvered breaking waters 'Neath moon's limpid eyes My hands descend With crimson buds of April's flowers To rest upon your tomb Of eternal silence.
''Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.''

Copyright © Mustapha Mohammed | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle | |

Priorities Viewed by a Dying Man

Death be not proud but humble with strife
Old man flicks ashes, has one last choke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
Many passed before him, cut off like a knife
They fester in his memory with this his final smoke
Death be not proud but humble with strife

In youth there were ladies, his courtships were rife 
But never a vow, no promises he spoke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
He lived wild and free, never seeking a wife 
Much wealth he acquired, never to be broke 
Death be not proud but humble with strife

He failed to see beyond the edge of gold’s knife
Shared nothing, loved no one, found no comforting cloak 
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
Tonight he wishes that he should have changed his life
He snuffs his candle, knows he’ll not feel heaven’s stroke
Death be not proud but humble with strife
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life


by Carolyn Devonshire
Written June 5, 2010

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Crystalline | |

Seeing Autumn's oak adorn

Painting sky before I was born,
Draping my grave in leaf and acorn.

----------------------------
Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
11.22.14

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Last Call

He left his sneakers by the shore
A backpack too, was laid aside
to pick up when the sun had died

He claimed his other gear, instead
The thrill of rapids filled his head
and sounds of water drew him in
             His sneakers, backpack cast aside
             would wait 'til dusk, upon the grass
             when he returned to don again

They did not hear the roaring tides
They did not hear the shouts of fright
Nor did they hear, at last, the call
That came from voices through the night

Calls from those who searched the dark
While water surged and moonlight fell
And rushed instead,  to grip a life
              His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
              assumed that he would come again

His sneakers wait, .........he kicked them off
In haste his backpack, too, was tossed
The river flows...... and all was lost
The cost was more than words explain

There's someone home who got the call
The words so wild, the last, that came

                 His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
                 assumed that he'd return again
                 It lies not in their province now,
                 to know the cost of human pain


___________________________________________________________
(Based, sadly, on a true event, and someone I once knew)

10/23/15   For the Contest: "Hear The Call" triple prompt

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Now my tendrilled soul,
Has found its pergola-- Christ--
To wind its way up....

Copyright © EMMANUEL SAMSON | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Flowers,,,Beautiful Flowers

Flowers...beautiful flowers.

These flowers will not replace my friend.
Their beauty will soon go the way of life-
Fade and wither and then take flight.

Piled upon this mound of dirt to mark our sorrow,
Offered as a sacrifice to soothe our souls.
Petal nor thorn could save this rose.

Like flowers cut down in height of beauty,
This face that bloomed and wore big smiles,
Is covered here to rest awhile.

Then beyond the markers numbered many,
Placed in rows to make order of death,
I saw something that took my breath.

Flowers...colorful flowers...that filled
The field yet fallow...waiting for the day
When friends and family gather...and pray.

Flowers...beautiful flowers.

Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain | |

October Brings No Rest For These

Emerald etchings are given birth 
to bask their lives in summer's sun, 
until brushing brutal winters cheek, 
They cower yellow; brown undone. 
Swirling down onto concrete pyres, 
They somersault to a random grave. 
The earth lays claim to copper corpses 
But the winter wind is a cunning knave. 
It finds and flips the fallen fibers, 
then flings them crisply to the street. 
The failing sheaves of burnt magenta, 
tossed like chaff from harvest wheat. 
Now strewn about with playful malice, 
and denied the resting place they crave, 
for the golden sun is a glint of amber, 
but the winter wind is a chilling knave.

Copyright © Gerard Keogh | Year Posted 2006

Details | Didactic | |

Speak of thee

                                        He is above us in the clouds 
                                run through the fields and speak of thee
                                              He will grow roses

                                       I will be the stem of the roses 
                                       for I shall never leave your soil

                                     You will be the tree I grow beneath 
                                             and he will be our rain.

Copyright © Andrea M Christian | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cowboy | |

Intelligent Design

You think you’re alone out on the range
Sittin’ silent under starry sky,
Just a marvelin’ at the universe
And wonderin’ ‘bout that ol’ question: why?

You shake your head at worlds of worry,
Knowin’ it ain’t often that you’ll find,
All the answers to your queries
Beneath the clear black sky and pine.

You wonder if we rose up from mud
And walked straight and tall upon this earth—
Or was it all created in a moment—
A conception that gave us true birth.

Are we all no more than those monkeys
Evolvin’ slowly down life’s long line?
Or is there more to earth and heaven
Touched by something truly sublime?

We keep on punchin’ clocks and cattle
And tryin’ to get through each new morn—
But is there more to life than dyin’
And will we somehow be reborn?

All the cattle know my hard proddin’
As I lead them along time’s sad way—
We live for but a flashin’ moment,
As we watch life go by in one short day. 

So make the best of trails you ride, cowboy—
Each tomorrow is both yours and mine—
And gaze long at stars in that vast sky
Placed there by intelligent design.

Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse | |

Seasons of Life and Death

Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower

Copyright © Sam Beloved | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain | |

Silver Waves Upon The Shore

Pushed there for a thousand years
and will be for a thousand more,
pushed there by the gentle winds
the silver waves upon the shore.

Ancient trees who watched here daily
are now dark silhouettes 'round the rim,
as dusk settles in over the still lake
and a dragonfly takes a final skim.

As the sun dips below the surface
silver waters gain a hint of gold,
their riches flow around my feet
giving me memories to be told.

The sands of time sift down below
where life goes drifting by,
and laid there for a thousand years
and beneath them, so shall I.

And become like a silhouette
to watch all life drift by,
and reliving in every moment
never stopping to ask why.

Pushed there by flowing currents
and the wind's most gentle roar,
I fade away like the golden sun
glint silver waves upon the shore.



Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge of purple rests within my tired heart
Soft touches of a heavy old soul
Now pulling on my heavy empty cart
Often my world seems to be lumps of coal.

I heard thumps of acorns falling on down
That majestic oak sheds its little seeds
Old age has me feeling like a sad clown
Longing to ride again, runaway steeds

Tis winter! Culprit bringing its bleak cold
Seeds resting secure in the frozen ground
Spring will come and they rise out very bold
Yet again life comes right on around

Nature teaches us, all will be alright
Life and death matches just like day and night

Robert J. Lindley, 1-26-2016

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	107

NOTES: 
 1. My muse woke me at 4 am to write this.
I told her no but she nagged until I rose to
do the deed. I' tell ya , I want to strangle her
sometimes but then at other times love her to
death..
 2. The immediate repetition of the word "heavy" in verses two and three is intentional and used for effect, as both the old soul and its life's burdens are now currently found to be very heavy to bear. Poet's prerogative , norms be damned says I. 



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Texas Wildflower Haiku : Widow's Tears

sun’s heat sunders sand
clustered lanced leaves green hug
widow’s tears collapse

Widow’s Tears is the common name for Commelina erecta var. angustifolia, they bloom on 
Texas beaches in sand or clay, and have the characteristic of flowering early in the morning 
and fading by noon. The bloom in all seasons but I chose spring to be more commonly 
approachable. [1]

[1] Wildflowers and Other Plants of Texas Beaches and Islands, Alfred Richardson

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Agree to Disagree

                                               
                                               Mankind's greatest
                                                 accomplishment...
                                                       
                                                      

                                                      is death.

Copyright © Vincent Rossi | Year Posted 2012

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 | Rhyme | |

Flood

Waters rise, engulf the land and other ruses
we devise to block their flow, to stem the tides.
Anxious, we are left to ride the waves
on fragile barques bereft of sails.
Such flimsy arks (mere barrel staves
and baling wire) float up the sides
of great sea-risers, like defiant snails
awash in slime. In time, seabrine looses
collective holds on congealed excuses
and in salt solution we dissolve.
To silver fishes we soon devolve
while worlds and stars, giants and dwarfs,
fade from mind like boats from wharfs.
And when to darker depths we dive,
will fishes miss us? Shall we survive
apart from sky, from air, from dry?
When at last we gasp and die
will crabs cavort? Can fishes cry?

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011

Details | Elegy | |

Sorrowful unto death

Sorrowful unto death
(Ecclesiastes 1:18 KJV)

He that increases true wisdom increases grief...
exposing that the knowledge of serpent did not instruct the dove,
and to know serpent knowledge is to know,
how the house of Love  was divided, that sorrow is in learning,
how many there are deceived of themselves….

                                                                       
To be harmless as a dove is to be love,
to be of a serpentine jester is to pester,
to pester life as a jester of strife...
is to be twain in total vain.
Love is oneness of twain in a wedding garment…

The trinity of infinity is the beginning of thee,
opening the sacred heart gives one options to see,
the beauty you see inside is the essence of thee,
tis also the beauty in the nature of a tree…
the nature of life’s tree eternally… 

To be is, to be, of the nature of life’s tree,
not to be, is to be, of  thine own ciestrine… 
                                                       Selah! 

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Night

If the waves clutched for my feet once more And invited me to drift Would you pull me back from ocean's shore Or let my spirit lift; Would you wade into the waters deep And hold my frozen life Or discontent with ocean's tide Let be with saddening strife. If moonlight was our only cover And her reflection beckoned me- Would you swim a naked body And sing our souls as "Free" If ensconced in nature's grasping hands, Whether waves or Freedom's play Will you follow me, but nature's pet, And embrace the dying day?

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

Stark Endings on an Autumn Wind

Burnished bronze, tarnished teal,
flare warnings yield to winds of steel.
Their urge to jump, to flee and hide
cuts off the warmth for suicide.

They leap and land at such a cost,
far flung debris- refulgence lost.
They shrivel brown, dark fibers done,
decay beneath the wayward sun.

Their shredded shells in supine piles,
small hells ignite by human wiles.
Gray smoking wraiths slip out to sigh,
soar off to smear the flannel sky.

Green progeny will take their turn.
One chance to live is what they earn.

Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2009

Details | Verse | |

Rites Of Passage



lllllllllllllllllllll I haste not I fear not in harmonious cries, I plead where flight has called this mighty warrior red paint upon my cheek O cleansing smoke of wild grass high of resin and sacred bead a vision has taken this warrior's cry anon, to capture a dream I crawl through gates to reach the ledge where spirit and smoke arise and pluck the painted Northern Flora and gaze through Savanna's eyes ^^^^^^^

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

White Cotton Candy Tuffs

.

                                           Pampas Grass' tassles
                                       Shooting upward fresh new
                                           Beauty filled short life

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Verse | |

A Seed In The Wind

~ Years lost, the barren floor a thousand poppies shall live no more through twilight's calm a storm raged on of flickering fire before the dawn Wither o' heights of careless breath the evil wind will give no rest so burn my orange fire burn of death soon rebirth shall find a nest Until that day I stand subdued where painted skies my only muse... ~ Poet-Rick Parise

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Just What Is A Broken Dream, Anyway

A strange sight upon a lonely road.
A dream ripped in half.
Looking closer, I wonder what was the travail.
An old price tag attached, making me wonder at what price it was sold.
Along the edges, tattered and torn, it gave forth an evil laugh.
As if some sly devil concocted a way to turn someone pale.

Onward I traveled, with pack upon my back.
To the left and right of the road were littered with more broken dreams.
So many that one could not keep track.
Some having been blown into the parallel stream.

So, I checked the pack upon my back.
And, yep all my dreams were there in a stack.

Cold winds howl, trying to rip my back pack to shreds.
Freezing were the winds, but forward I march.
Never losing sight of my dreams in spite of many dreads.
They all hold up strong even though many times I'm in a lurch.

Suddenly I see people returning to the road.
Going back and picking up their dreams.
Dusting them off and restoring them to their pack.
Each and every one said to me, you are quite bold.
To go forth and not let the cold winds of fate not destroy your knack.
To face life as it comes and not give up even if offered gold.

Good, bad fortune, are likewise of no importance.
Put a failed dream back in your pack and maybe a new day will appear.
Where you can unpack that dream and give it another go.
But, for today, march forward, today's failure might tomorrow's dance.
You gave it your best, and win or lose, that game has ended with a spear.
Win or lose, that game is done so pack it's knowledge away in your pack and grow.

Suddenly down the road a new vista appears and a brand new game.
Left high and dry or victorious are the two possible ends of any venture.
But in truth, knowledge is all you will have, win or lose.
For tomorrows game is just around the bend, all the same.
Win or lose, the game of life only ends for the moment within sight of the new adventure.
So, to quit and call it the end, only makes you look like a goose.




Copyright © James Ray Morris | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cinqku | |

The Sparrow That Fell

.
                                                      Baby
                                                 Bird wiggles
                                              Upon concrete
                                     Downy feathers, weak feet
                                                 Death waits

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Sunshine Flowers

The Daffodil, peeks at the yellow rays of the Morning Sun
She raises her head  :through the withering snow mound : with Dazzling Beauty
The Daffodil , Sings in harmony; Arise for I am : the Spring
The Golden weed, the Dandelion , reflects the yellow Halo Floating in the Sky
Knowing Life is short ,the Dandelion dots the Summer landscape
With Her Halo turning White, She calls the Wind and flies through the rays of the Sun
Goldenrod waits until summer is  nigh o’er before waving elegantly 
To the Yellow orb, warming her roots, She melodiously  Sings Forever be Your Glory 
The Goldenrod , humbly  Hums Hymns : to the very Eye of  a Loving GOD 
Yellow Roses speak of the Memories : “watching  the grass “Sportsman’s WAVE””
She sees the Glory of Nature : more Beautiful with each Magnificent  : Sunrise
Yellow Roses, petals so Silky Soft, holding in “ Remembrance “  a long Lost “ LOVE “
The “ AquaRose “ that Grows, in the deep Caribbean Sea “4 miles North of Aruba” 
Screams For the Sun, from her watery Grave, Yet she shines in a sea of  “ Sapphire   
                                                 " Blue " 
The Depth of the  “Blue sea, the Blue Sky above” Shadow  the glow of Sweet  
                                            "  Sunshine "
       Inspired by the Contest : " Flowers " : Sponsored by Francine Roberts
             Dedicated To my LOVES : " Barbara Jean "  & " Lenore Ellen "
              Author's Note : I Hope this is Read the way it was Written
                  YOUR Liege ALWAYS, LOVE : HGarvey Daniel Esquire
                                                7th Place win

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Verse | |

A Starfish In Her Hair

The tide rises within me soaked with failure's longing.
The sea siren's reach, out across the land to me.
The moon added its pull and speaks of not belonging.
I am drawn on astral screams to the deep dark sea.

small waves submerge
my pale ankles to my knees --
gulls cry

The weight of clothes so cumbersome impedes,
arching down, I let go, each bit of cloth from me.
Salt sea in, the salt sea out, my life concedes
choosing to leave, this go round, in the deep dark sea.

open eyes stare
into a silty brown brine --
bubbles rise

Sinking-down, passively, sadness abating 
Strands of silvered seaweed, chill, gently beckoning me
my limbs entwined in death's sweet embrace abiding
minnows greet me with a kiss, from the deep dark sea.

starfish 
in her hair --
fog horn
 

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Crystalline | |

There Were Many Shipwrecks Here.

On a robust breeze, the sunset flares
through the ripe peach filtered clouds.

As they extend garish golden glaze
past bleached sands, salted corpses.

Cold crying of sailors washed clean
slipping off the clambering crabs.

Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2010