That thing that we call poetry -
when asked where it began,
I’d say it started beautifully
before the dawn of man!
It glistened on the oceans
before man came to be.
It blossomed on the grassy cliffs
that met the first great sea.
It glittered in the moon and stars
and beamed on earth below
in meadows where bright flowers danced
and on the pristine snow.
It sparkled on the lakes and streams,
and when man came along,
he took sweet words that flowed to him
and turned them into song.
This was how it always was
before we knew of time.
The poet who begot us all
made it to be sublime.
Poetry has now evolved,
and as with many things,
there are many kinds. . . but I
still like it when it sings!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.
Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.
This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.
The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.
A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.
Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.
The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.
At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.
I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.
The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.
Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009
Trees reach like glowing embers
to singe the autumn skies.
Leaves burst with blinding colour
like sparks that spin and rise
Then a breath of weightless fog
moves across the silent lake
where trails of molten clouds
fill the sunset's smoky wake.
The harvest moon emerges
like a second burning sun
to fill the sky with button-stars
that morning pulls undone.
Sunlight floods the gardens
to melt the morning dew.
This is where my heart resides
since September gave me you.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015
I am a flake of winter snow
on cold and driven wind.
I've been cool drops of rain so slow
from darkened clouds unpinned.
I am the sting of frigid sleet
that makes one's skin so raw.
I've been the course of waters fleet
as winter yields to thaw.
I am the face of ice-bound lake
which hides its life beneath.
I've been the tossing waves that break
and tides which time bequeath.
I am the snow in drifted row
piled deep before your door.
I've been a river wide and slow
to live on and explore.
I am the waters flowing still,
perpetual as time.
I've been the earth's unbroken will
still granting life, sublime.
I am the Waters
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015
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
Rough winds blowing
Washing wild waves ashore
Scattering about seashells
It always makes me want more
Copyright © Brittany Larson | Year Posted 2015
As Bold Aries Full Moon Eclipse unfolds
with aggressive behavior to morph the sky
bleeding into the clouds subjective feelings
like blood soaked passion all too soon to die
October 3. 2015
Copyright © Judy Konos | Year Posted 2015
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
The smell of the summer night air
Takes me back to times we shared
You and I dancing beneath the moon
Crickets playing a lovers tune
Trees full with lush green leaves
Whispering poetry to you and me
A view from beneath a Missouri bluff
Talking of passion, love, and lust
Your hand in mine strolling the path
Sitting on the deck and looking back
Picnic tables and barbecue grills
Driving and parking, is this for real?
My memory’s filled with your sweet love
Do you remember that snow white dove?
A kiss goodnight under a star filled sky
Best friends forever, a promise, no lie
It excites me to think that every year
Whether life or memory I return here
We will create magic again I know
On a summer night in the moon’s soft glow
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
*inspired by John Heck’s “Summer Celebration” contest
Copyright © Lena Townsend | Year Posted 2009
Splendor of Autumn in its glorious bloom
Bestowing us with nature's gifts precious
Fragrant orchards with their ripened looms
Tempting aroma of the fruits luscious.
To the Autumn born, the season appeals
As I inhale lungfuls of the festive air
Drum beats reverberate, child's gleeful squeals
We celebrate Autumn with unique flair!
Auburn hues of the flora flourishing
Trekking dry hilly trails with impish pride
Vibrant beauty of fauna simply ravishing
Toddler enjoying his piggy back ride!
Armed with dry sticks tiny hands fiddle
To catch the colorful flipping butterflies
Beneath pattering feet crispy leaves crinkle
The sail-boat clouds drifting through blue-glass skies.
On a pond blossoming with lilies and lotuses
They empty their left-over dewy wet delights
Nature basks in sunlight's golden caresses
The whole cosmos soaks in wonderful sounds and sights!
Copyright © Yesha Shah | Year Posted 2012
I’m a lonely lighthouse battered by the sea
Standing all alone steadfast and strong
Keeping guard for souls in difficulty
Maintaining my watch all day long
Waves exploding but I’m standing firm
Salty spray splashes over me
A soldier of the sea I confirm
I ‘m committed to my duty
Storm or tempest I will never fear
Tsunami or swirling hurricane
Shining my light so you know I’m here
For sailors, I will always remain
Contest The Sentinel Sponsored by Eve Roper
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
Summer Nights in the South
Green fireflies blink in the quiet of night
and our sleeping old dog heaves a sigh.
Dreaming, she sprints through a youthful blue sky
chasing delicate clouds, cotton-white.
A red-sunset tanager* colors the warm air
from a perch in the majestic oak limbs above
professing by lullaby, sincerely devoted love,
like some sublimely recited evening prayer.
I lay back and smile, through the leaves, at the moon
to the sound of crops rippling in the breeze
thinking how precious are nights such as these
when alone, with the Earth I commune.
*Summer Tanagers (Piranga rubra) are native to the southern U.S. but are not true tanagers. They are actually members of the cardinal family.
Submission for Contest: Nature Poems Only
Hosted by: Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
No ripple of breeze could be half as gentle
than those tiny feet, as they lightly tread
through the open meadow of poppies blooming
while morning sunlight lay gold on her head
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012
Nature has its beauty,
Gliding through the sky.
Going from flower to flower,
Yet slowly passing by.
I see her wings of canvas,
With the shapes and lines.
Of broad and thin strokes,
Made by hands divine.
As she begins to flutter,
Her little heart still sings.
I’m attracted by the color,
Amongst her painted wings.
Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2008
Tiny little weasel,
Sneaking `round the house,
Searching for a midnight snack,
A chick, a kit or mouse.
Crafty little rascal,
Scurries here and there,
Must find enough to feed the brood,
A bird, a pup or hare.
Nocturnal little scavenger,
Relentless once he spots his prey,
A formidable impugnist.
Cute little weasel,
Can be really sweet,
Cut the little guy some slack,
We all have got to eat.
(Just make sure your pets and live stock are protected.)
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011
The gentle music flows
from every drop of rain,
as it just lightly taps
against my window pane.
The wind begins to whistle
it's own melodious song,
while the wind-chimes
dance and play along.
The soothing sounds cast open
the windows and doors.
I close my eyes and breathe.
The energy surrounds me as my spirit soars.
I hold out my hand and feel the raindrops
as if they were at play.
My breath now quickened with emotion.
I taste the rain on my lips as I embrace the glorious day.
The curtains blow inward
the breeze itself is warm,
my mind is so peaceful
in the calm before the storm.
The sky's voice trembles
from above a darkening cloud,
as the rolling thunder
speaks it's thoughts aloud.
The thunder awakens
the flash of light.
The part of nature
that sends some to flight.
I chose to embrace the power of nature
in the earth and sky.
And bask in the wonder
that fills my eyes.
The rain seems to be letting up
as it puddles on the green grass,
and the once powerful winds
are now calming down at last.
The gray clouds are parting
and a bright rainbow forms,
proving that something beautiful
can come from such dangerous storms.
My eyes close and I breathe
in the scent of the cleansing rain.
The brilliant hues of the rainbow
dance in my mind where I feel no pain.
The sun peaks from behind the clouds
just to say hi.
I feel the warmth against my face
as I view the beauty with a sigh.
Written by: Kelly Deschler & Nature Boy
For Jared Pickett's contest - "Collaboration"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
You have caged me for too long
I want you to just let me go,
I have to spread these feathered wings
I need to feel the wind's blow.
You know that I love you truly
I said that I would never leave,
I want to see the rain's dance
Not just sit here and perceive.
The scene never changes, day after day
I want to go where white roses bloom,
I have never seen an ocean's wave
And neither have you, I assume.
I need to see the autumn tree's change
I want to see the snowflake's glisten,
I am wishing on the stars as they fall
This is my dream, so please just listen.
I want to fly in the sky's blue
I need to feel the sun's burn,
When I have experienced these wonders
I promise that I will return.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Was it all a sweet dream or just reality?,
I sit and ponder that very thought,
During the daylight and in the nighttime,
Wondering, were we ever there or not?
A crescent moon smiled down on me,
Shedding it's white light upon the ground,
I sat amongst the petals, waiting patiently,
And it was there, that me, you found.
Lavender flower petals I did pluck,
As I was seated atop the green hillside,
Does he love me, or does he not?,
My love for you, I could not hide.
I only saw you as a dark silhouette,
A shadow that walked upon the ground,
Among silver stars and a midnight sky,
Your gentle voice was the only sound.
My darkened silhouette was no longer alone,
While yellow fireflies around me dance,
When you came to join me atop that hill,
In the meadow's softly illuminated romance.
I was embraced within your arms,
As your most tender kiss met mine,
On that one warm summer's night,
When our kindred spirits did entwine.
So sad was I when the time came to part,
As the rising sun shined golden upon my hair,
Although, what a beautiful dream it was,
When I awoke and found you there.
Waking Dreams Contest
April, 4th, 2014
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
The crocus first peers from beneath cold earth
Finding warm air and sunshine o’er the snow
Magnificent colors paint hearts with mirth
As in full swing lovers’ great passions grow
Most women associate love with spring
Though young men’s thoughts turn to baseball diamonds
While children fly kites that take gentle wing
As snowbirds return from tropic islands
How blessed we are to breathe that fresh air
One more spring in the calendar of life
When lilacs fill gardens with lavender flare
Vows uttered as man makes woman his wife
Their first child’s birth arrives the next April
Just months after grandma’s been laid to rest
Seasons like ages approach ever graceful
As robins watch offspring fly from the nest
For PD's "Spring" contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
Above the clouds, I long to be
Among the other things I see
Where I can stand and shout out loud
Here I stand, above a cloud!
Where whispy trails of jets in flight
In blue skies, patchwork quilts of white
While here below I am, a grain of sand
As people travel from a far off land
Above the clouds on a pitch black night
The moon peeps out to share his light
The stars still seem to find a way
To dance around the cloud's display
I'm amazed at the ability of man
To send satellites soaring, like they can
Above the clouds and far beyond
Like they posses a magic wand
But, most majestic of them all
Is that snowy mountain top so tall
Where I can stand and shout out loud
Here I stand, above a cloud!
Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013
Birds doth fly above the sky,
flowers fair and nigh;
as the sun comes shining by,
wet white sand to dry.
Soft the breeze from gentlest seas,
sweetly strums guitar;
lassie sings of love and sees
sailor from afar.
HAVE YOU TRIED A 7/5 TROCHEE - POETRY CONTEST
SPONSOR : ANDREA DIETRICH
19 April 2015
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
The voyeur moon has promised she
will hide her light tonight and keep
it dark outside if we'll agree
to let her watch us while we sleep
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
A scarlet sun bleeds onto a blue sky,
behind branches of a majestic oak.
And shadows ink its leaves in silhouette,
as lonely crickets chirp and bullfrogs croak.
I can hear the crops rippling in the breeze,
and a brook babbling with a southern drawl.
Yet, they’re lost to the quiet of night,
as time slows to a perceptible crawl.
When adventurous moths take to the air,
acrobatic bats blindly hunt in flight.
And as darkness descends like a curtain,
day acquiesces to the might of night.
A quicksilver moon pools amidst the clouds,
dripping drops of sunshine onto the lake.
And all of heaven soon starts to glitter,
as billions of sleeping stars now awake.
The hooting of an owl encourages dusk
to extinguish the last lingering light.
And diurnal animals go to sleep,
as nature silently whispers, Goodnight.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
Grasshoppers and katydids
Cactus, growing in the sand
Palm trees near the ocean
May-apples in the woodland
Parrots squawking in the jungle
Moss creeping over rotten logs
Luscious ferns filling forests
Huge dinosaurs, tiny tree frogs
Watercress and lettuce leaves
English ivy, honeysuckle vines
Grass snakes and lunar moths
Cedar, fir, spruce, and pines
Myriad grasses, filling meadows
And blanketing every lawn
Fields of corn and sugarcane
Fat caterpillars, tiny inchworms
The stem of every flower
the fat shell of every bean
Looking around, it would seem
Our Father favors the color green
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
We stand beneath an unfamiliar moon
Where nature's magic weaves a crimson loom
To contradict what ancients understood
The world survives and has not met its doom
Contest Sponsored by Eve Roper "Super Moon Eclipse"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
Black edges a turquoise horizon,
inking silhouettes a cobalt blue.
And shining stars, like twinkling candles,
faintly flicker in and out of view.
Color escapes from night’s dark abyss,
as shadows reborn are given shape.
And sunbeams gild the rim of the earth,
distilling reds into shades of grape.
Sound is suspended, all is silent,
a magical time, before birds fly.
Magenta clouds share shades of crimson,
imbued with fire that ignites the sky.
A birthing sun ascends from the east,
its brilliance engulfing all of space.
Daylight reclaims territories lost,
and night vanishes, without a trace.
Written Jan 7th, 2016 for the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.
The ominous reflection of moon
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.
Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.
Her claws prophesy of vengeance
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency
for a soul's annihilation.
Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013
Petals in the wind I saw
with my girl one day.
On some boughs of trees they stirred
with a gentle sway.
As they moved, the wind picked up
till that mighty breeze
blew the petals all at once
off the pretty trees.
Then the petals danced around
swirling to the ground
like small ballerinas whose
slippers make no sound.
Crimson, pink and purple, they -
like bright butterflies -
fluttered and sashayed before
our enchanted eyes.
Suddenly the air went still.
fell to ground while some adorned
my sweet daughter’s hair.
Happily she shook them out,
turned to me and grinned.
No more would we see that day
petals in the wind.
For PD's third contest for poems about nature
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
The very first week of every October
Bright yellow, orange, amber, purple and red
Splash artistry on New Hampshire’s White Mountains
As the tourism season comes to a head
North Conway’s old railroad station is abuzz
Men in traditional conductor attire
Escort sightseers to seats with pane-free windows
To peer out at landscapes in colors of fire
The spectrum on dappled mountains evokes awe
Caught by camera lenses as cool winds blow
Offering a chilly reminder to all
That these peaks will soon be blanketed by snow
Clickety-clack, the train hugs its aged track
Freeze-frame photograph images will remain
Recalling the splendor of fall’s peak foliage
Until spring breathes life to the mountains again
* Rides on the North Conway train are only offered
in autumn. Written for the "Fall" contest.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
It was the kind of day I had always dreamed of,
a source of energy was emitted by the sun,
the tiny leaves dancing like they were in love,
green, red, yellow and orange...I had to pick just one.
My arms wide open towards the rustling breeze,
my smile upright inhaling the heavenly atmosphere,
clouds so evolved into shapes I'd never seen,
startled I thought, “I think I'll pick the one right here.”
Not the red one....not even the orange caught my eye,
and the yellow seemed too rough around the edges,
but the green leaf looked lonely so I gave it a try,
For it was buried so deep in my front yard hedges.
It was not part of a foliage but buried under a rock,
eight sharp points creating it's own special star,
deepest kelly green seen from any tree on the block,
so I scooped it up gently and tucked it in my scarf.
Walking home I wondered why I chose a leaf so plain,
after all, there are plenty of colors during Autumn,
but I was looking for something that wouldn't complain,
and something to alleviate my mid-life boredom.
See, I am that green leaf that doesn't need to stand out,
I'm perfectly content being consistent and clear headed,
some people may not understand what I'm talking about,
being such a big part if this world, stay true and connected.
I pray I stay this way and keep walking down nature's path,
the exact way God had intended before I was born,
to be honest, sincere and carry on my own happy laugh,
for I'll always have my little green leaf to keep me warm.
Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: January 14, 2016
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016