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Nature Home Poems | Nature Poems About Home

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

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Details | Free verse | |

The Heart Of The Edifice

                                           The Heart Of The Edifice   

                                           In the midst of the forest 
              Of skeletal trees, green cedar, pine, and brush is the thickest
                                        Standing so tall and  blissful 
                    Enduring weathering and erosion that slowly chisels,
                            Earth's rock into ever evolving work of art
                              A rock structure that use to be the heart 
                             Of the edifice where long time recurrence
                                    Of lives that lived with endurance 
                                    The, hiss, crackling fire persuades 
                                                    Warm comfort 
                                        From a chilly cold winter day, 
                                Or soaked from the hard pounding rain
                                             That chills to the bone
                            The scents of smoke, mixed with spice food,
                       Coffee, and bread cooking in a cast iron Dutch oven

                               Now habitat of natures small creatures 
                     A rock structure that use to be the heart of the edifice
                                       Standing so tall and  blissful 
                                          In the midst of the forest 
               Of skeletal trees, green cedar, pine, and brush is the thickest
                      Enduring weathering and erosion that slowly chisels,
                               Earth's rock into ever evolving work of art

                                                  By: Eve Roper
                                                        1/2/2014

 


Details | Free verse | |

A mother's treasures

A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother 
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her 
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this alletrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevaient from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths, roles and qualities
of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s


Details | Acrostic | |

WISCONSIN

We are known for our football, bratwurst, and beer,
Iridescent blue lakes with fresh waters, crystal clear,
Summer's sun blazes hot enough to make skin burn,
Cheese producing dairy farms are around every turn,
Our bright autumn leaves change their colors with ease,
Near spring, the scent of lilac floats upon the breeze,
Snowy winters, with temperatures below zero degrees,
In our green forests, raccoons and deer have a home,
Near the roadside, wildflowers grow wherever you roam.

Harley-Davidson was born, where the eagles fly free,
Wisconsin is as close to heaven, as home can be.






Kim Merryman's contest - "Tell Me About Where You're From"


Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Verse | |

Maroon boy, you must go home now

Maroon boy, you must go home now
Go walk naked in your tropic sun
And scan the bush for the wild sow
And test your youth in the jarring run
Go to your woodland and recall
Every bush and tree by its name
Listen to hear a mango fall
And smile when the poinsettia flame
This is too noisy a place, child
The cars cough their carbon black as night
Into my lung, I am defiled
By secret waves humming with red light
Or invisible as bad ghosts
Churning my cells to sickness and death
These cities are frail frantic hosts
And the children here, are full of fret
Maroon boy, you cannot stay here
The wilderness calls you over there.


Details | Haiku | |

A Place Called Home

On the covered bridge
A bird is building its nest
Hidden by shadows


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Welcome Home Storm

Whipping gulf clouds burn
Sheets of sideways rain
People's worried smiles
hurry, pass me by
I'm a lazy girl

Rumbling starts in
Slashing lightning
I mosey home
to watch the storm

Slow feet now
Pellet rain
Lock the door

Sweet sound
Tire me

Peace.


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Limerick | |

There's No Place Like Home

Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked  witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone  


Details | Free verse | |

My Boredom Disease

Like sick allergies, 
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE

Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!

Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination ! 


Details | Ode | |

Free as the wind Ode to native American Indians

Oh how I wish
I could set free
the native American Indian
with pride and dignity
taking them back
across the great open plains
to their sacred home
in the lush green vallies
where buffalo are plentiful
and roam
so the Indians can live in peace
one with nature once more
where the eagles soar
setting them free as the wind
wild untameable as a magnificent stallion
running toward the setting sun.





Peter Dome.copyright.2012.


Details | Concrete | |

My Home

Beautiful blue mountains with shimmering sunlight like the flicker of a candlelight
as the sun passes through the many tree branches

Different shades of green grass that cuddles every thing upon the ground
like a king wearing his crown winding around through the town

Blue streams and rivers that move and run like a fountain down the sides of the mountain
splashing at all it's surroundings grasping and thrashing around but unbound

Miles of fields that invite you to lay down and stay awhile
and look at the mountain side and the hundreds of hillsides

As dusk starts to set and the fire fly gives off it's fire light
you can see the mist rising from all around and the singing from the insects playing around

This is My Home
Tranquil and serene never gloomy just full of beauty
It is the place my heart is at one in which I will never depart
This is My Home and it is set in stone.

2/3/15   T. Reams   for my sister Julie


Details | Blank verse | |

A Beautiful Fall Morning

Very early Fall morning…crisp and clear.
Sitting on the patio, sipping hot coffee.
Only my path to and from the bird feeders,
Rain gutters hung on the stockade fence,
Has disturbed the beautiful, glistening dew 
Blanketing a lush, green Bermuda lawn 
Awaiting the season’s final mow and a Winter sleep.
Early morning sunsmile creates a mist, a little fog,
That artists have great difficulty recreating. 
And the sprinklers are making music too….
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH 
As I filled those bird feeders, 
Only the patient cooing of white wing dove
Waiting in the surrounding trees
Could barely be heard above the sprinkler.
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH 
Feeders filled, I walked away.
The air erupted with bird song.
Our giant privets were alive with hungry sparrows,
Each announcing breakfast.  
All the locals seemed to understand.
The robins and larks, the finches and cardinals chimed in;
But only the jays’ sharp calls could be heard above the din.
What a ruckus…but so beautiful a song,
It is a ‘wall of sound’ to be envied by rockers.
Orchestrated by Mother Nature….Mrs. God.
The sprinkler's barely heard....
ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch 

Squirrels wait out of sight.
One may bark now and then, but
They’ve learned that patience pays.
It’s not just time to feed those damn birds;
It’s time to feed the greedy squirrels too;
And chow time is well worth the wait:
Sunflower seeds. Peanuts. Suet.  Dried fruit.
You can almost hear them as they gobble,
“Mmmmmm.  Man, this is the good stuff, Bro’. 
I mean the good stuff.  What a life.  
I’ll never leave…not even for a girl squirrel.”  
It’s as if they think they’ll never eat again;
Every morning.
As if we hadn’t been feeding them 
Every day of their lives…and their parents.
If we could tell them apart.
They would have names.

Well....everybody's happy.
All this and good coffee too.
What a beautiful Fall morning. 



Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine


Details | Free verse | |

Wild Western Blizzard

What could I really know of the breaks 
                                                                in the land
huge canyons               bleeding red              cut by the wind
with the snow swirling                                  around our tires
barns upright 
                                   and fallen to a  tumble like icebergs
windshield riming over with a crust of ice
                        we scrape madly inside
                              trying to keep cold out
speed slowing
slowing to a crawl
always on the lookout
outside line appearing and gone, 
                                                                    no worries about
cattle led inside to safety    to be watered               and fed
but what of us?
                       Will we be trapped clutching a candle
                             wanting a chocolate bar, 
                                 waiting for a tractor?
and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches
and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl
                         of slumbering snow 
                                             to lumber down in drifts and piles
no fire would ever warm us
                                                                temperature dropping
dropping 
            until finally we see it                shining in the dark
                                          a lantern at a farm
a fleet of snow mobiles to greet  us
                                                                   scurry is off 
                             before our ears turn blue, 
                                would they fall off?
Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard, 
                                                                      we have home.


Details | Sonnet | |

THE WAY HOME

Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.

The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.

Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
     Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
     Here God and nature hold me in their hand.


Details | Acrostic | |

Nanaimo

     ~~~ Nanaimo, B.C. ~~~


Nestled in the center of this Pacific isle,
a gem of a city, your heart it will beguile.
Nicest climate in all of our Country fair.
Air fresh from the ocean surrounding us there.
Imagine a city filled with parks all around,
mountains behind us as nature abounds.
Oh, the beauty of this place simply astounds.

Be sure to stop by if you're ever this way.
Chances are you will love it and you'll want to stay.




          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for Kim Merryman's  "Tell Me Where You're From"
                    contest


Details | Free verse | |

My Future Generation

I can act insane
But DO NOT 
Make me feel worthless

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

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

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

Not stress…
That piles upon us in our 
Everyday lives

Being childlike is

A rare beauty – 

No one prizes it…

No one came across it…

In this lifetime…

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

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

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

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

I’ll still have pieces of a child in me

And pass it on to my future generation…


Details | Haiku | |

HOME

Snow covered Mountain
Evergreens glisten in White
Spring is in the air

The Chimney billows
A warm cozy Welcome Home
My eyes Tear with Joy


Details | Haiku | |

HOME - 2

I shant fall asleep
'til my eyes see Dawn's Sunrise
Kissing Mountain's Peak

'til I feel the warmth
of nature surrounding me
Knowing I AM HOME


Details | Free verse | |

I don't want to leave my HOME - 2

I breathe the beginning of new life in the spring
I feel the gentle gift of life giving rain
I see the newborn Fawn standing on her own
I plant the seeds of my hunger, hues of Flowers, easy on the Eyes
 
The warmth of the Summer Sun, heats my heart and Soul
The soft summer rain splashes in the Gardens
The vegetables grow while Flowers rainbow the scenery
The gentle wind whispers with the melody of the songbirds
 
As the Hues of the leaves sparkle along the Landscape
As fall's sunsets rainbow the colorful sights below
As the Northwind slowly begins to show it's rage
As nature's creatures scurry to fill for winter's wrath
 
When the winter wind begins to howl barren trees stand tall
When the angery snow defiles Mother Nature's Beauty 
When the Ice shimmers upon the frozen lakes
When I look  I see the beauty of my life, my Home


Details | Tanka | |

My Weekend Home

High in the mountains
A log cabin in the trees
Aspens in color
Sit next to maples scarlet blaze
Hear the rippling river sing


Details | Narrative | |

The Destruction of My Home

It was a quiet, peaceful morning in the vast meadow.
I could hear the thump of hooves as other deer grazed in the valley below,
but across the sea of grass, a sight I feared,
two burly men slowly neared.

I dashed for the woods hoping my herd would do the same,
for the men, I could see, quickly came.
Like cracks of lightning, their gunshots fired.
The safety of the forest, I really desired.

As quickly as it came, the mayhem subsided.
Where I was to go was still undecided.
I moved through the forest with plenty of caution,
trying to ignore my shattering exhaustion.

Suddenly I found the scent of something burning.
My brief moment of peace was rapidly turning.
As I got closer to the source of the smell,
I saw that the men were to blame for this tragedy that was soon to befell.

Their campsite was set ablaze, for they left their fire going.
Now all their belongings were eaten by the fire without them actually knowing.
The flames quickly spread to the trees overhead.
If I didn’t leave soon, in no time I’d be dead.

I swiftly ran from the site,
as the billowing smoke began to block the sunlight.
Everywhere I looked, there were trees on fire.
To escape this inferno is what I aspire.

I finally made it to the safety of the lake,
wondering how much more trauma I’d be able to take.
I sat there watching my home being destroyed.
Leaving my abode, I had always tried to avoid.

The furious fire blazed for hours to come.
I saw the effect of the fire, and it was gruesome.
The pain of the upshot was an arrow in my side.
None of these animals should have ever died.

I was so tired I could have slept for a year.
If I could cry, I would have already shed a tear.
Oh the tragedy! Oh the despair!
How I wish mankind would learn to use fire a little with more care.


Details | Ballad | |

The Long Way Home

trotting across my back field
there’s a storm brewing-in
it’s misty friend is climbing 
through the cold, prickly wires

Delicately drenched, 
as wet as 
a dog’s kiss,
there’s a-storm brewing-in
it’s casual pal is breezing-
bothering the wicker trees.

his smile- 
brightens my mind 
like the italian renaissance.
inhaling red tipped 
cigarettes 
we chat under the glistening leaves. 

But there’s a storm brewing-in
it’s hamper full dirty laundry
is drying-
stringing across my back yard. 

his laugh-
is as pleasing 
as old dogs learning new tricks.
Just one more outburst, 
and I swear this storm will turn to stone. 

I bask-
his attention is as gratifying 
as a masters gentle stroke
just one more round of 
darting eyes and light hearted jokes.

I realize now, 
He grumpiness does best
to protect what’s raw and rare-
from the snakes who try to tear us away from home.

Like stumpy cigarettes, 
hanging off the tips 
of tough our lips. 
we’ll share each other’s worlds.
Yes, Like stumpy cigarettes, 
hanging off the tips 
of tough our lips.
Come- 
let’s melt into each other’s worlds.


Details | Free verse | |

Dance of Cranes: on Coming Home - SF


It waits on the wedge of a field
no longer lonely, another
 floats in for a landing above
 a sea of yellow flowers

Who will  forget that wonderful fuss,
the mock scolding  of an absence
now  being celebrated
The preaching  by a full range of
 vocals - wing tips folding and unfolding
against a new, and thinking sky

For Andrea's SF Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

I don't want to leave my HOME

Nurses and Doctors; say, "Your too sick to go Home" 
"An apartment with a desk; write a Homesick Poem" 
" What do you possibly see in that mountain top cabin?" 

I see the Earth in a different perspective than You 
Landscapes of Beauty, spread wings of the Bald Eagle 
Peaceful tranquility nature's creatures walk right up to You

The Firmament, so close, Heavens Flowers, You can smell
Reach up, caress a white silky cloud in a soporiferous spell
During hunting season I see an albino buck munching apples in my backyard

                                         To be Cont.


Details | Rhyme | |

Nature Walk


Amongst the purple
shadows in the early
light
Flocks of birds
taking ready for
flight
Sprinkles of colors
and various shades
of green
A place that remains
untouched and
unseen.

Water slowly
trickles along the
small creek
Where you find
pebbles and stones
so unique
Overhead the bird of
prey with eyes like
a hawk
Will gaze over
everything that
crawls or walks.

The water with it's
endless spring flow
A home for water
lilies and the fish
below
A haven for the
birds of prey
A home for the
foliage to decay.

Green moss gathers
around the trees
Gathering place for
moths, wasp and bees
Black ants invade
the old tree stumps
While tall crap
grass gathers in
clumps.

Black- eyed Susan
scent hangs strong
Other flowers barren
, flowers long gone
Once bright  berries
hung, now only a few
Saskatoon,
pin-cherries and
choke cherries too.

Amongst the purple
shadows in the early
light
The prairie sunset
turns to a soft
scented night
I walk along the
path by the creek
Finding the solitude
that I seek.

 9/4/12


Details | Light Poetry | |

England,My Country

 The rolling hills so green and tender
 Mountains on high i will always remember
 Colours of the seasons so fresh in my mind
 All of the beauty so easy to find
 This is England,the country i live
 The country i would die for,the country i love

 The fields the forest the mountain stream
 The hills the dales the lakes agleam
 Scent of summer so strong on the breeze
 My land of beauty thats so hard to leave
 This is England the country i adore
 Home of truth,faith,hope much more

 And if the time comes then leave it i shall
 To a foreign country an unknown land
 Where the thoughts of England will always remain
 In Gods own country ,Gods domain

 


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Rhyme | |

Nature's Single Dad - The Australian Emu 2 THE DAYS CONTINUE

NATURE’S SINGLE DADS:
THE AUSTRALIAN EMU

The next sixteen months:

CRR-ACK ~ “That’s loud,” he exclaims getting up on his legs, so knobbly and thin.
He looks down to the ground, 
where he first heard the sound,     
and says, “Now it’s your turn to begin.”

Hours go by, as each little chick tries to break free of its protective cover.
They all work their way, 
throughout the long day, 
then all greet their father-come-mother.

For his new family he breaks the last shell. To his fluffy striped chicks, he’s their mother.
As they grow older under Dad’s shoulder 
he will nurture, each sister and brother.

In time, they will leave his home on the dance floor; a single dad, with chicks he will roam.
With high steps he will prance. 
They will learn every dance 
for survival, before he goes home.

With the changing seasons, Emund finds reasons to leave his young chicks on their own
Others join with his brood 
now there’s plenty of food,
Emund turns and again, he’s alone.

Not taking the chance of being late for the dance Emund picks up his speed on the track.
They won’t meet at his gate 
if he gets home too late 
to dance to the rhythms of the outback.

The Australian Emu; one of Natures' Single Dads worthy of a mention for the survival of the species in the extremes of the outback.