Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Peace Nature Poems | Nature Poems About Peace

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

12345
Details | Alliteration |

Pass the Light House

~ CALYPSO ~

Odyssey of the open ocean 
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight 
A beautiful name whispered along the night 
Calypso, enhanced with enchanted lullabies 
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to;
--Sunsets of the secret sea. 
Mysterious-- many precious places to go, 
Calypso -free flowing, floating legend! 
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea 
Whisper, Calypso come for me! 
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me! 

Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view 
Visionary Vessel above liquid level, 
as divine in spirits she sails. 
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name 
Aquatic of belief-----------------------
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's 
For all eternity-------------------------

by;pd


Details | Verse |

Who Am I

I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM



Details | Ballade |

All Things Beautiful

Walking alone past the reeds blowing lace,
Stroking the oak by the old wooden gate,
Guided by trust to my lovers embrace,
Pouring my heart into leaves as they bate
Wind into dancing as feet hesitate,
Just long enough to find rhythm, I trace
Patterns in air as the pollen creates -
Fair is the face of the Lords given grace...

Sky paints a picture for moon in dark space,
Vast driven oceans of life demonstrate
Love for the mountainous deserts displaced,
Each born anew, by the wind to its fate -
Seamless infinity’s natural state,
Is seeing your eyes on another’s kind face
And Finding forgiveness for those who breed hate,
Fair is the face of the Lords given grace

Out in the sun as light seeks out its place,
Faith comes to breathe as it encapsulates
Bodies of men where his truth is encased,
Dreamers whose dreams become true and innate,
Their journey is hard but rewarding and great
Where love can be found but cannot be replaced
And words that when written just right captivate,
Fair is the face of the Lords given grace...

Each breath I breathe makes me appreciate
How beautiful life is, how rich and how chaste -
Nature’s perfection is light incarnate,
Fair is the face of the Lords given grace...


copyright Kristin Reynolds 2008


Details | Carpe Diem |

Each Day Takes its Turn

Standing firm 
we live 
we give 
we take 
we learn 
we strive to make sure 
each day enlightens us 
and brightens us
even as light fades to gray 
may we keep fighting 
with two swollen feet
beneath the body and soul 
experiencing trials 
and intense life lessons 
meshed with stresses 
may we persevere 
turn off  fear's song 
may we stand firm 
as we glide along 
through shifty winds of change 
that may cause things to sway
rearrange
but we hold true
inside the values and morality
we stand for 
we
fall for nothing 
we
may stumble along the trip 
we 
may swerve at the wheel yet 
we 
do not lose our grip
because no one 
can eclipse the sun 
yet
everyone heals 
before they're done

Just when situations arise 
flooding us with pain we despise
and just when it seems like
our tear ducts are dry 
from ongoing cries
we may think 
things are on the brink of ending
then God shows us the ways of faith
by way of love that he's sending

Standing firm 
we live 
we give 
we take 
we learn 
we make sure 
every day enlightens us 
and brightens us 
as each day takes its turn. 

~JSLambert



Details | Rhyme |

THE LONELINESS OF A LOST CLOUD

God named me a straying cloud,
and by His perpetual wish I abide...
as the loneliest cloud floating on the earth's breeze.
I glance below and discover the yellow daffodils pride, 
and fluttering they dance beneath the apple trees;
and as a sparrow I feel the bond. 


My night visitation is more exciting than broad daylight,
I encounter many stars and make them my friends,
and they love shining on the Milky Way...
looking down on the lonely bay so bright;
and tossing their luminous heads, they brightly dance:
so happy they have come my way!


Even the ocean's waves join them in their play,
but their dance is better than theirs,
and at such wondrous sight I make verse...
being offered their warm company;
I am amazed by how they roll and still gazing away,
I do admire the spectacle that gladdens me.


So often, on my couch I gladly lie to rest,
but overwhelmed by empty or moody thoughts,
that splendid image flashes in the glow of the sunset;
my daffodils still wave and invite me to dance,
and I dance with them, making a happy sound...
not to feel the loneliness of a lost cloud. 


Entered in Brian Strand's Adaption poetry contest
This is an adaption of Williams Wordsworth's poem,
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme |

Dead tree

Dead tree.

She stands there like she has for years
The life in her all gone
Once she wore a coat of green
And she'd be filled with song
As feathered friends of every kind
Would rest among her leaves
And as in life the same in death
Our tree will never grieve.

So all alone, she looks, this tree
All etched against black clouds
Although the life in her be gone
She stands there looking proud
And all her majesty is seen
By those with eyes to see
I take her picture once again
Try to catch her mystery

21 September 2013 @1920hrs.


Details | Verse |

Red Sun

RED SUN

#1
Brimstone's way up past the clouds 
Highlights against the ocean line
Beautiful sunrise, warm texture
Warning, the rooster!

#2
Glorious yellow and orange mixture 
My source of great inspiration
Horizon against the wind 
Unmatched - beauty mark In the sky


 Itty Bitty Co. 


Details | Personification |

Whispers Within



I am the spirit of satin stardust and the antiquities of golden memories alive I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun and greet you in the misty morning light I am the steady and rolling drum beat echoing from the jagged heights above I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters' and the freedom birds of love I rise above the white summer clouds in lilting songs of grace and roam with the western tail-winds to take you home again I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty of love hope and faith I have come to tell
Dedicated To P.D.


Details | Verse |

GOETHE'S PATH


Into slithered path of forest green

my imprints mark a search for peace,
as bushes hide like shades unseen

where vines’ fragrance holds its release.

Drained, I see life through a flower 

struggling to curl among meshed weeds,
these limbs falling on ash of hours

like old willows bound to concede.

Enduring climbs upon a hilltop

the blaze of night in gold appears;
so far the wrens, too near I drop

till leaf of hope breaks, as morn nears.


Dusk now closes its drowsy eyes,

as forest still grants what is mine
breathless from new mist, I arise.

while soles run here in thoughts divine



Goethe Stanza Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish








Details | Narrative |

Birth, in a Quiet Room

“Well,” She asked; her eyes wide. Beads of hot sweat glistening on her brow like miniature 
crystal suns. Her angst was palpable. “What is it!”
     The air was still. There were no words. Just the sound of bodies breathing in – and 
holding.
     “Congratulations.” He held out his arms, handing the mother, her baby, “You have a son.”
     The moment shone like glass in the center of the heavens – pure and eternal.
     It was redemption from every wrong thing she’d ever done. 
     It was the shining eyes of God smiling onto her exhausted face; lighting it with hope.    
     It was the only place there was – the only time, the only space. 
     It was the only feeling that existed. 
     They were the only two incarnate souls in the room; on the planet, and in the universe.
     This was her child –
     her son.
     And she was his mother.

     (there are no words for such things. suddenly, I feel like an intruder. there are too many 
eyes, words and moments here. so it is here, I take my leave; leaving this mother and the 
only soul in her universe to their perfect moment. they will have many more moments in this 
lifetime; but none as sacred, as human, or as eternal as the first look from life to life; 
mother to child; heaven to earth, as the very first. None.)
     
“It’s a boy.” she whispered. Her throat a crumbling tunnel; stunned, but not really. Like 
she’d known it all along. “My baby boy…” She smiled into his ancient, brand-new face; 
tracing his delicate cheek with the back of her finger. “He’s perfect.” 
     She ran her palm along the bottom of his soft, miraculous foot, and laughed. “Look at 
your feet – they’re huge!”
     And as she wiped the tears with the heel of her shaking hand – smearing what was left of 
her mascara - she looked in to his, as close to heaven as one can get, eyes, and said, “Hi.
I’m your mama.” He smiled at her. He knew. He’d known it all along. “And I’ll love you 
forever…”
     The world closed its shades then. Leaving the sacred to its history; the moment to 
eternity; and their universe to its quiet, little room.
     


*Inspired by Deborah's, You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby, contest; and every mother 
who has graced this sacred room.


12345