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Mother Seasons Poems | Mother Poems About Seasons

These Mother Seasons poems are examples of Mother poems about Seasons. These are the best examples of Mother Seasons poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Concrete | |

The Eternal Tree

I am Alive    Forever and always         Essence        Rebirth        Renewal
          I have earth to ground me      I have wind to move me   I have fire to cleanse         
     my     spirit        I have rain      to quench    my thirst    for growth
                      I have sun to    enlighten me        feed me  I am my own mother
              and an extension of the whole     I am   Earth         wind
                       rain   sun  fire    I am as old as life  and I am     as young
   as time   I am shelter to those who seek me   I am a bird  a flower and  the breath
              of the earth itself        I am exactly where I want to be     I am life
       I am first and last  the beginning and the end   I am one from many
                        I am what I am   I live  I grow  and I die. I am  Reborn unto myself
                                                          I am the great circle                   
                                                           My limbs know no                          
                                                           Boundaries; while                            
                                                           My leaves whisper                      
                                                           The one truth of the                      
                                                           Whole  through the           
                                                           Seasons changing
                                                            Colors that I wear 
                                                            Upon my   heart's                  
                                                            Sleeve, I'm home
                                                           To Earth Mother’s
                                                           Melodious  Life; I
                                                           Sing for the whole
                                                         World to hear - trees
                                                       Are Earth Mother's Song
                                                       Blowing 'round the leafy            
                                                  Globe; eyes of the world song 
    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Of the Mother   breath of the living   soul of the earth }}}}}}}}}}}}

***Senses evoked here are: Touching, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling and Seeing
***Elements evoked are: Water, Wind, Earth Metal, and Fire

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again


Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Personification | |


One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last, 
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above - 
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
	There is a pulse.

One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them, 
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
	There is a pulse.

One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
	There is a pulse.

Copyright © John Taylor

Details | Rhyme | |


If we read the gospel well,
We notice no one rang a bell,
To announce the saviour’d come,
And then when we learn of his mum,
There’s no mention of her donkey ride,
Or of the animals inside,
The stable were the child slept,
It does not tell us if he wept,
And of the weather? Did it snow?
Well we simply do not know,
It rarely snows in the West Bank,
Would be unlikely, to be frank,
And was Jesus born at night?
Did they at least get that part right?
Well it simply does not say,
It mentions not the time of day,
And that’s not all, not by far,
Shepherds saw Angels, Not a star,
It doesn’t say they gave a sheep,
(They were poor and lambs weren’t cheap!)
The Bible tells us many things,
But did not call the wise men Kings,
It doesn’t even call them men,
It only calls them magi then,
It says nowhere they numbered three,
Or if from the Orient they’d be,
It does say that our Lord arrived,
Lived a good life, was crucified,
Just to take away our sin,
So heaven will allow us in,
And this is the truth I will defend,
But just how can a footstep bend?

Copyright © Sharon Smith

Details | Triolet | |



There was blood on the street
On his shirt
And on his shoes
Yet it never made the news

Just another person
Just another tale
Just another sister with a sorry story for sale
A beauty bound to lose
Yet it never made the news

There had been thousands of tears
Throughout the years
And nights of varied and sundry fears
Her face was painted with blacks and blues
Yet it never made the news

She’d been to the cops to tell her story
“listen lady, no guts no glory”
To them it was too ordinary so they’d refuse
I’d pick up a newspaper to peruse
And still her story never made the fu**ing news
When the law finally caught the case
They understood the condition of her face
Needed not was D.N.A.for the culprit was known
After he beat, bludgeoned and broke every bone

This was a couple who should had never become a pair
She with morals and he with his nose in  the air
Because she was his dynamite and he was the fuse
And she died yet it never made the fu**ing news
     © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~ 

Copyright © jeffry cohan

Details | Free verse | |

Slender Birch

Steel Gray skies with threatening rain and restless wind
My breath gathers as mist on the inside of the window pane I watched for the school bus

A slender birch tree with spiral scars 
of flayed bark against its white skin
like curlicues of sharpened pencil shavings

Still clutching many bright yellow leaves, 
Some collecting at its base like a discarded garment
Sunlight, just a small shaft flickers bright dapples on tiny dancers
Ocherous curtains against the bruised sky

Prodigious vibrant final act
Just for me
The tree manages a sly curtsey 
in my direction, 
Sacrificing more of her fragile costume

My beautiful rosy-cheeked child kicks playfully
through the saffron sea of discarded programs
“Here are some for you Mama” he says
as he bursts into the kitchen smelling of peanut butter and early fall
There he deposits a chubby handful of my regard 
gently into my apron pocket

And into my heart's hiding place as well
Perfect poignant performance;
Beautifully done slender birch,
Most beautifully done

Copyright © Kelly McDonald

Details | Lyric | |

Summer Time

Summer Time
and in the spring
the children sprout
growing up until they old
reminiscing on the past
(Summer Time)...
 So innocent and young
growing old and wise
telling true stories
to the children eyes
some young become old fools
just make sure its not you
Summer Time
and in the spring
the children sprout
growing up until they old
reminiscing on the past
(Summer Time)...

Copyright © Michelle Edwards

Details | Rhyme | |

Did The Lord Build Your House

Did The Lord Build Your House? This house of ours is “plain.” But is still standing. We’re “simple folks...” By many people’s understanding… We may not have much of what is “socially appealing”… But we have love in our hearts. And this is a good feeling! We may not be “wrapped up” in much of this world’s entertainment. But we seek God’s peace and a desire for contentment. We, as a family, have one purpose and “calling” in mind. To seek God’s ways of being merciful and kind… Each day we pray with much thankfulness in our hearts… For this is where happiness and gratitude starts! We’re thankful to the Lord for his unfailing grace… And for keeping us together in this special place… We’re blessed to have a God who is truly worth finding. His word in our lives is precious and worth memorizing! “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain that build it!” God must rule and reign… So his love can completely fill it! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Light Poetry | |


I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN

Details | Prose | |

Mom's Most Incredible Day Ever

Have you ever had a day that you wanted to relive over and over again? A day when the craziness of the world was far behind you? I had a day like that one day. It was the best of memories too. My son and I each got our rakes out. I had my mom-sized rake and my son had his Little Tikes rake. We headed off to the front yard and began to make the most enormous pile of leaves. It was like the most beautiful treasure! Golden, burnt orange, red, and bright yellow leaves from our next door neighbor’s tree. It was the most majestic Maple tree. It showered us with leaves and we poured out of love for each other beneath it. After all our hard work we took about twenty steps away from our newly erected mountain of color. We looked at each other with the most exciting grins. We giggled and yelled “Cowabunga!” We dashed right towards the middle of our treasure chest of leaves and began to laugh so intently as they were caught up in our hair. I just sat there in the leaf pile observing my son. He was the most precious thing in my life. It brings me tears of joy to remember this day. He eventually dashed off towards the house to make himself a cup of hot cocoa. I remained in the middle of the leaf pile just giving thanks to my God for the most incredible day ever!
Gwendolen Rix

Copyright © Gwendolen Rix

Details | Imagism | |

A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Copyright © Gokul Alex

Details | Free verse | |

In My Community

Our Ancestors fought to the death,
Just so we can live a brighter day,
So before you light up that blunt of meth,
Think about what you’re giving away,
It was a glad day in history when Obama rose to victory,
The first black president was all we knew,
Dark skin is in!
Haven’t you heard?
That even in our community, 
You can get burned,
It’s a sad day when people would rather stay home and “Crank That Amber Cole”,
Than get up and run to a poll,
In our community,
Rockin’ Luis V is better than having a college degree,
And teen pregnancy is not only a trend,
But the single motherhood that follows should end,
Young girls learn of a wonderful prince to take them away,
Nothing should change thought their mothers prince didn’t stay,
And as the tears fade away,
She grows stronger every day,
In our community,
Fighting is no longer a word,
You argue with someone and shots are heard,
Girls showing places the sun don’t show,
So how do they expect the community to grow?
Where love is a figment of imagination,
Making a young child question her creation,
Young mothers would rather buy the iPhone 5,
Then satisfy her baby’s cries,
While her new man’s eye,
Wander up another girl’s thighs,
In our community,
Where #team dark skin vs #team light skin,
Makes others not love the skin they’re in,
Love, lust, hate, and trust,
Giving a rose on Valentine’s Day is no longer a must, 
Where bad is good and good is bad,
Who would think to see their grandmother sad?
Her hurt and pain,
Shows how our community has lost everything her parents fought to gain.

Copyright © Nya Johnson

Details | Free verse | |

Womb Of A Bird

...and how lovely 
to sleep in the womb 
of a bird

that caresses 
silk like skin 
and sense

all things 
are being taken care of

as sugar coated thoughts 
begin to traverse
the twilight sky

of a summer night 
when misty mist comes, sounding
on your jovial, pink lips 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Aunt Floe

NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view

I can see your blood boiling
through  the blades I once called eyes,
they were once beautiful  like jewels
now they hurt my deep insides.
cutting at my guts
and like a noose on my  lungs;
your words seek like bullets 
your mouth like sniper guns.
I’m hit with each inaccuracy…
Being killed by words untrue;
and you even got the nerve
to tell me what you think I do.
But let me get mad
and try to plead my case;
then suddenly the world
is a f--ked up place.
You got tears running down…
What the Hell did I do?
We were just sitting and laughing
I could swear that we were cool.
Oh God…
Oh no…;
I should have seen it… 
It’s Aunt Floe…,
This battle can’t be won or reasoned
I think its best I go.
Cause I hate Aunt Floe 
and she hate me too;
she sit and talk sh-t
about the gum I chew. 
The color of my shirt…,
She say my look is a stair;
She say my best has no worth
And she doesn’t stop there.
I didn’t change
I’ve been the same 
these 28 days,
 but now I’m f_ckin A__hole 
Aunt Floe gave me that name.  
She said get out my face 
This aint your home no more,
But I’m more puzzled by 
What was said before.
I love you 
With her glossy eyes 
I knew it was true, 
But horribly sly
You see these words
make me the fool.
The one that’s cruel
That a__hole dude,
That sparked the fuel
To this f__kin feud.
But I swear to God
I didn’t start this sh_t,
Why would I give up my love 
To live my life like in a pit.
 This is horrible sh_t 
Wasted days spent,
On nothing but the worst
I could be bathed in your sent. 
You could be laughing 
While I’m smiling
But Aunt Floe Won’t let this be,
And the only way to make this right
Is hold my tongue  a week.
And that ain’t gone happen 
I’m a person too,
Not soft
But I got feelins
and don’t know what  to do.
Now its been six days
Unbelievable  rage,
She locked herself 
In the room
I call it her cage.
I smell a sent in the air
It wasn’t there before,
Now lookin down the hall
I see an open door.
Is this a trap 
I’ll guess I’ll see,
If I fall for another
 You know that’s dumb ass me.
Curled in the bed 
I think I know that girl,
But where’s the hells Aunt Floe
The one that f__ked my world.
She packed up and gone
Didn’t even say good bye,
Just came wit gang of bullsh_t
And vanished in the sky.
Is that you my dear
Can you please come here,
Listen close and crystal clear…
I hate Aunt Floe
 Next time she here
Make sure I’m stocked
with weed and beer.
I love you punk.  ?

Copyright © Anthony Thomas

Details | Sonnet | |

Catch Me If You Can French Sonnet

<               enticing to eyes watching mama's pink roses bloom
                 fourty years later someone else now cares for them
                 fresh cut daily and seen in her arms their long stems
                 tears streaming down face I sit under swollen moon
                 waiting watching for sun to come up again soon
                 to catch one more glimsp of mama's planted old gems
                 unfurling petals before been chopped or condemned
                 think I'll ask if can take one for my dining room

                 aroma bursting amidst thy supper's table
                 bowed heads we come and thank our Heavenly father
                 somebody still cared though sick and times unable
                 and answers it's door for which one has come bothered
                 to let bask in roses empowering fable
                 and not to be called as it's one's roses robber

French Sonnet is a poem with rhyme scheme
Syllable count is 12 syllable per line.

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Limerick | |

Mothers Day

Mothers are the best 
They are like a test
They are very loving 
They like a flower budding
The treat us like a fest.

Copyright © Cassie Smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Mum's Christmas Dinner

She stays awake for hours, cutting Xs in the sprouts,
Then peels all the tatties, a ton or thereabouts,
Slicing and dicing parsnips is next up in the plan,
Chops up carrots and a swede, and put them in a pan,
Mixes up her sage and onion and stuffs it in the bird,
Along with some pork sausage meat that’s been pre-prepared,
She takes apart the oven, to fit the turkey in,
Hangs it up with bits of string, there’s no room in the tin,
Wraps sausages in bacon, in case they catch a chill,
But makes sure they‘re all cooked thoroughly, so the family won’t get ill,
Cooks the bird for hours, while the table’s being laid,
With all the finest crockery (and some of lower grade),
Makes space around the table, brings in extra chairs,
Adorns the place with candles and other Christmas wares,
Lays out a Christmas cracker in everybody’s place,
Complete with rather tacky joke, no doubt of a straight face,
And brings out all the condiments, the pickles and the sauce,
The salt and pepper, the mustard and radish known as “horse”,
Next she makes the starter, the simplest course by far,
A cocktail made up of prawns and a sauce out of a jar.
The family then all piles in, and argues over seats,
The children are already full of chocolates and treats,
Grandmother is mumbling, “Kids should be seen not heard”,
Meanwhile back in the kitchen Mum’s wrestling with the bird,
She tries to carve up slices, but ends up with turkey chunks,
While Dad and Gramps have become a pair of Christmas drunks,
They start an argument about which wine goes with the meat,
And restless children run around, not staying in their seat,
Mother tries to keep her calm and bravely soldiers on,
But the roasties are all blackened and the sprouts are over done,
Mum enters the dining room looking very puffed,
She throws the turkey down and shouts ,“There you go! Get stuffed!”

18th November 2012

Copyright © Sharon Smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Oh! Humanity,

Oh! Humanity,
How you’ve completely lost your sanity.
Did you forget how to grow?
Every one of you was planted row by row.
Did your heavenly Father not nurture you with love?
Did He not make the rains fall from up above?
Oh where is your heart?
Who gave you your first start?
Oh! Humanity,
What vanity!
Oh! Humanity,
What profanity!
Daylight hours just wash ashore,
With simple lives from once before!
Have you forgotten your heavenly Mother?
And what about your heavenly Brother?
Where is your Godforsaken mind?
What happened to being loving and kind?
Oh! Humanity,
How you’ve provoked such a calamity!
® Registered: Ann Rich   2006

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Villanelle | |

Total Destruction

<                                   Destruction of beautiful mother earth
                                     Will it spin off mantel like head to gawk 
                                     Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                     Floods fires quakes acts from natures own birth
                                     Litterbugs arsonists terrorists balks
                                     Destruction of beautiful mother earth

                                    Illuminate waters that someone hurts
                                    Cleanliness is painted in Godly chalk
                                    Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                    Man woman and even thy smallest mirth
                                    For thy Father in our Heaven will stalk
                                    Destruction of beautiful mother earth

                                   Eagle that soars a wolf howling from girth
                                   Will thy it's freedom ring out thus like the hawk 
                                   Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

                                   Like land before time when man walked
                                   Wonder how forces existed and talked
                                   Destruction of beautiful mother earth
                                   Or destroyed by mankind for what it's worth

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.

The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Haiku | |

Last Minute Halloween Costume

Last Minute Halloween Costume
Toilet paper wraps;
Costs less to dress as mummy,
Mom thinks it’s funny!

Copyright © Marie Harrison

Details | Rhyme | |

Nature's Single Dads - The Australian Emu

Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days

Emund is busy
preparing his
dance-floor for
partners who’ll put
him to the test. 
His pedigree line
has proven with time

that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay; 
there is not enough
food for them all. 

They dip and they
weave as they mingle
together knowing
that each has a
With his reputation,
there is no
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
arrival, ‘It’s
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin. 
Others move to the
side as he leaves
them mid-stride 
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.

With sensuous,
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
in time. 
He matches her mood.
His movements are
as they twist and
twirl in their
dancing mime.
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
With steps that are
light he glides to
the right, 	
he meets her, bows
deeply, head
Emulena says,
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
It matters not
whether we all stay
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
do naturally 
to deliver these in
your own way.”

After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
green shell.
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect, 
so with care he
covers every one

He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
some showers.
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure 
as he, turns each
egg every three
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
prowls near-by; 
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.

The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
This egg will be
food for his hungry
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
He’ll sit day and
night until the
time’s right.
He knows, that time
comes without

to be continued...

Copyright © J Eliza JAMES

Details | Haiku | |

Mother nature crying

                                          A summer storm
                                    glowing sky,howling wind
                                        Mothers tears falling.
                                                         Teresa Skyles

Copyright © T.A. Skyles-Theoklapoet

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sacred Mother Earth- Colors Of Nature

Oh Great Woman of all Nature
  Mother of our Divinely blessed, sacred Earth
Your beauty has kissed my lips
  with the splendor of your clear, sapphire skies

The golden, moon bathed Sands
  that are gently caressed
 by your crystal blue clear flowing rivers
Your gentle rain that ascends from the Heavens above
  to delicately soothe and blend
with tears that flow from the broken hearted

Your moist, emerald green hills 
 filled with enchanting, lovely flowers 
of every elegant shade and hue
I have beheld the splendid beauty…
 of your green weeping willow's gracious bows and limbs
of iridescent greens and golds
that whisper gently in your swaying, languid winds

I have witnessed golden eagles fly so gracious and free
  in your pictorial, periwinkle blue skies
I've feasted my eyes on the sublime splendor
  of your enchanting, golden harvest moon
as its elegant beauty paints a rose, gold, splendid image 
  so deep within my mind

All your violet-blue endless horizons
  Your smoky, gray mountains so grand
in the rose blue cool light of dawn
  Your chattering bird songs in skies of azure blue
The fragrant scent of amber gold pinecones
   in the sparkle of the crystal clear early morning dew

I pay Ode’ to you Great Mother Nature
  for every golden ray of sun that warmed my skin
that hangs brilliant and dazzling...
   in your glorious skies of cerulean blue

Copyright © anne p. murray

Details | Haiku | |



It took three whole days
for Jack to build a snowman;
he's as tall and strong


They are thrilled and scream..
playing in the deep, fresh snow;
they cannot their mom 


Heart, take a quick look: 
isn't winter's glittering snow 
so mysterious?

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Rhyme | |

The long ago scent.

Hush now, listen, that sound above the clouds.
Is it in your minds own eye or is it from the winter crowds?
They tease us as they make there way,
frosted windy dark and grey.
This sound I hear is one I taste, I smell the air and see the day.

My feet are bare, they sense the mirth,
it belongs to them, this enchanting earth.
I dare not tread too deep or tear,
for it might break this spell I fear.

Walking forth inside this dream, with weathered feet and legs so lame,
it is as if I fell in love, again again to this fine dame.
The leaves they drip from the sun they kiss,
the moist embrace of drops are bliss.

I look above too catch the sound of summers perfect song,
hail to you thy song is pure, your love is true, I cant be wrong !
Hands stretched out as if to reach I shake this dormend man,
so here you are, for you once more, she's done the best she can.
So quick so fast your soul will know, 
jump the shrub and enjoy the show.

There they are for one and all, ocean sky, earth and rock,
they lay aside there different days and never dare to mock.
Forget it not for this is true,
this home's alive for me and you.

Copyright © Bellantony De Mertens

Details | Rhyme | |

Summer's Slumber -Kissing The Moon


  The balmy summer breeze 
Gently caresses the harvest saffron moon
  While it dreams memories of autumn’s golden red kiss
Trees are shedding their emerald green summer tresses
  Kindly kissing the Earth as their garments fall gently below
And flowers have shed their vivid colorful dresses
  As crimson amber leaves gently anoint the ground for show
While Summer sheds her beautiful clothes -
  Mother Nature lovingly seduces her to dream
She's kissed the shore with her elegant colorful attire
  She has painted the world with her exquisite apparel 
So now it's time for her yearly seasonal retire
  She paraded us with her resplendent painted scenes
Blessed the birds in their angelic symphony of songs
  So now -it’s time for her to drink the dreams of slumber
Taking the cup of restful sleep - is now where she belongs
She asks the moon to wait patiently...
  For her splendid colorful return
When she'll paint the world with her radiant painted tresses
  Where once more her regal colors will burn
She'll brush the Earth in regal glorious colors 
  Dressing up again in her brilliant, picturesque dresses
As the ruby red blaze of autumn begins to kiss the Earth 
  With her dazzling hues of gold and coral valor 

But before she goes...
  She gently reaches out with her one last caress...
Softly whispering as she sweetly kisses the moon
  ”It’s time now for fall - it’s time for me to undress”
She softly breathes her dulcet ending tune...
  "Goodnight", she gently whispers ...
"I’ll see you soon Mr. Moon
   Please...will you wait for my return? 

Quietly - she drifts into her splendid, peaceful dreams…
  Slumbering peacefully - 
Safely harbored in Mother Nature’s loving arms 
  As mellow zephyrs gently caress autumn's waiting whispers
While the moon drizzles its shimmering dusty charms
  Serenading nature with his soft silvery tune 
As this luminous gleaming Luna Mister 
  Cordially opens his welcoming hands 
To September's colors of orange and golden browns
Awaiting the arrival of dancing petals
As he gently embraces autumn's leaf draped lands 

Next he’ll greet the season’s sister 
  From the pristine silverblue Northern Isles...
Awaiting dancing ivory snowflakes he'll cheerfully greet winter 
  With his warm welcoming golden smile 


Copyright © anne p. murray

Details | Haiku | |

'Yellow Rose of Texas' (Haiku # 14)

‘ Yellow Rose of Texas ’ Haiku  # 14

         A Lone Star Shone On
         A Yellow Rose of Texas
         and Bluebonnets Grown

Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Light Poetry | |

Merry Christmas Mum

Beautiful mother don't shed a tear
You have embraced motherhood year after year
Through your journey whether good or bad
Times through difficulties made you sad
Loving eyes and caring hands always open to me
Casual talk or tears sat discussing with a cup of tea
Beautiful mother don't shed a tear
So much to share and create through the coming year

Copyright © CLAIRE BURKE

Details | Free verse | |

The Hourglass of Life

A new season begun, a new life, a new birth,
engraving our story here upon earth.
The pages turn slowly.
Each day will pass.
Life is measured by the hourglass.
The sands of time pass graciously.
The book is written of mystery.
Echoes of silence, the pages are blank.
For the hourglass of life holds no rank.
Let today be today.
Look not to tomorrow.
For life will fade on the pages of sorrow.
Read the story,
you must go on.
Turn the pages of a new dawn.
To every beginning there is an end.
Your spirit will soar high in the wind.
Hurry before time runs out.
For life surely fades without a doubt.
The clock counts down each grain of sand.
Turn the page and understand.
Reflections of love and holding hands.
This page though so innocent,
a beautiful child of heaven scent,
happiness in a life well spent.
Turn the page again once more,
to find the key to all closed doors.
This page tells of mom and me,
the many cherished memories,
undying love for family.
Turn the page, see all my friends,
from around the world and all nations.
This page tells of sacred marriage,
to have, to hold, and also cherish.
This page tells of many great storms,
the sea of tears, and the thunder roars.
This page holds the photographs,
of many dreams that once was had.
Though some memories of life you can't recall.
The book of seasons, winter, spring, summer, and fall.
The last page to turn, so there's a stall.
The last grain of sand that slowly falls.
Now for a moment don't you cry,
the hourglass of life told us no lie.
For all is born and then must die.
God grant me the time to say goodbye.

Copyright © shannon farlouis