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Nature Memory Poems | Nature Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Leaf

Floating down with grace and ease
Carried off by the Autumn breeze
Rich in hues of orange and red
Landing in the flower bed

What once was buzzing full of life
Now succumbs to the pruning knife
Staring up at the wilted rose
Another season comes to close

Looking for memories of this day
Not forgetting her fun filled stay
Lying amongst the rocks and sticks
I'm the one the little girl picks

Hurries home with the one she took
Placing it in her poetry book



8/05/2014

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haibun | |

Sand Dollar Dreams

It's quiet here - quiet in a way that catches me off guard. The tranquility is almost tangible, something I can touch and hold and wrap around myself. I can hear the pulse of faraway waves, the faint hum of the wind, the nonsensical call of distant seagulls. I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding along with the waves. 

As I kick off my sandals, my spirit steps out of my body, leaving behind the material baggage of city life. The sand is soggy beneath my feet and I know my footprints will disappear when the sea rises, as if I were never here at all. 

It's low tide, that magical time when the sea recedes to reveal the ocean floor. Grooves of sand catch pockets of water that are half-buried mirrors, reflecting pale blue sky and slices of violet sunlight that glitter like chipped diamond. 


a vocal seagull descends toward liquid skies – reflections ripple
At low tide, a second beach emerges, stretching all the way across the bay to the opposite shore. I walk slowly, tasting salt on the breeze as it runs invisible fingers through my hair. Strands sweep across my face, catching in my eyelashes before fluttering free once more. The beach is a dream catcher, snagging small treasures when the sea withdraws. And I am a child again, fascinated by the hermit crab retreating into his shell as I approach. I spot the dimpled surface of an urchin’s shell peeking out from wrinkled sand. Other shells are scattered across the beach, some upside down, exposing smooth, pearly souls.
a tiny starfish drifts beneath placid water – lost constellation
When I find a sand dollar, my breath catches. It’s perfectly whole, with smooth, rounded edges and clean, ivory skin. It’s heavy and light all at once, the flawless design at its center subtle and brilliant, like a delicate floral tattoo. How many hours had I spent here as a child, searching for this transitory coin? My eyes fill with unexpected tears as my vision wavers behind distorted pools of grief. I’m half-blind until I blink, releasing salty rivers down my cheeks. Even then, my sight is murky. My tears taste like the ocean and I think, suddenly: Whose tears fill the sea? Written: November 4, 2015 For Charlotte's "Creative Haibuns" Contest

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

A Night At The Desolate Harbor

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

Copyright © Mustapha Mohammed | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haibun | |

THE SCHIZOPHRENIC'S CASTLE

The tall, thin man lived in a castle upon a hill that formed the reach of one earthy arm, dressed in green leaves of various shapes and sizes, embracing a shimmering sea of glimmering aquamarine. Here, at this bay’s end, stood twin basaltic towers, dark and brooding guardians of the land, which sloped away gently to the beach on one side, and the sea, which washed the steep dropping cliff, on the other. 

Twin monoliths stand
Stark giants upon the shore
Rock of ages mute

In the lower concave shelter of these towers, the man lived alone. Under the one rock was his bed of woven coconut fronds piled upon a soft sandy spot. Next to it, beneath the second rock, was the fireplace, of ash and stones arranged circular. His days were spent fishing and gardening. Treading quietly, he often startled the girl at play. At first she feared, for she had heard the villagers’ stories. But soon it was clear, that he was at peace. With always a smile, in mellow voice, he’d say hello, ask about her parent’s health, and then offer some of his catch, if he had. Then with a wave goodbye, he’d head back to his castle upon a hill.

Rock’s cliff faces sea
Pounding waves bang the echoes
Ghostly hearts beat still

(4/23/2016)

Copyright © San Woo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Concrete | |

The Place that Shaped Me

  I left my
  heart   in 
 a magical 
  place. A
  place that
  holds years
 of wonder and
 awe. A place that
 knows me  better
 than any  other place
  I’ve been.  This place
  has changed me and 
     molded me into the
       person I am now.
     The forests, trees, creeks,
    and open skies instilled in 
  me a  love for God’s  works. 
The harshness of the winters has 
taught me to be patient and to endure.     My  small
town is where I  learned the  small-town work  ethic;
you don’t get what you don’t earn  and earning what 
you want takes  a little bit of  sweat  and  tears. Here
I  learned  that  you  don’t  have  to  be  blood  to  be 
family.  Brothers  and  sisters  are  made  throughout
years of school together. We relied on  each other to
be happy. This place will forever  hold my heart and
soul. I  am a small  town  girl  through  and  through. 
It’s who I will always be. Forever. Thanks IDAHO
for  shaping  me  into  something  more  than  I  was.

Copyright © Samantha Farr | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Day the Earth Moved

The moment that changed a city
The moment that changed a town
The moment that the earth did move
The moment that walls came down.

Sudden shock in the dark of night
Not expected before a coming day
Jolted from a peaceful sleep
From a nasty brutal sway.

What seemed to be eternity
Seconds that weren't so quick
Suddenly silence spread its sound
Except the echo of an old clocks tick.

Fears for friends and family
The networks all gone down
Checking neighbours in the street
Emotions shaky as the ground.

Listening to the radio
Expecting death to fill the air
Bracing with every aftershock
Terror laid fully bare.

Angels must have worked that night
No one badly harmed
Not knowing in the future
We weren’t to be so charmed.

4th September 2015


Christchurch Earthquake September 4th 2010. The smaller earthquake on February 22nd 2011 was to claim 185 lives.



Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2015

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

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

Details | Diamante | |

EARTH ELEMENTS DIAMANTES

EARTH ELEMENT DIAMANTES

Crust Cool Solid feeding, enriching, giving LIFE – EARTH – SPHERE - CYCLE cleansing, birthing, renewing Hot Liquid Magma Land Green Hilly living, laughing, loving FLORA – FAUNA – FISH – REEF swimming, surfing, sailing Blue Wavy Sea Hill Grassy, Lofty hiking, gardening, viewing Vegetation, habitation, homes, people walking, singing, talking Sandy, Flat Vale
(3/12/16)

Copyright © San Woo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Pond Memories

I remember, back before puberty,
and all concomitant complexities,
visiting the pond behind our barn,
to watch water spiders.

I wondered what we would like living on thin transparent skin
between two equally visible universes,
one below, and one above.

Below,
life would be somewhat darker
but unlike soil.
I would look down into flowing water space,
watching other little pond insects and amoebas, and lichen,
and occasional predator fish or water snake,
or frog.

Above,
I could look up to see flying insects,
and grass forests,
rocks above, as below,
but dry, lighter, easier to maneuver,
to stick to,
to remember.
Again, the occasional predator,
like birds and again those pesky frogs
who also tend to live near life's bicameral surface.

Yet, in a way, this surface,
Boundary Universe skin between two universes,
Prime Relationship limned barrier between air and water universes
has its own specific universal traits,
responding to both air and water flow,
sometimes confluently,
sometimes dissonantly.
My own spidery journey along that surface,
looking in and looking up,
is quite different than looking out,
forward,
with confusion as I lose capacity to see down and up
while looking toward my future.

So, my water spider grows three eyes.
Only supereco eye looks directly toward my future,
interpreting Prime Relationship between my right eye,
looking within water below,
and inside,
while my left eye,
looking up and out,
seeks to understand
what this huge mammal,
a red headed kid,
is doing with our day.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Does Sand Have A Memory

Does the sand have a memory?
Does it remember the tears it soaks?
The blood it seeps, the fingers clawing at it's form.

Will it mourn for me? Caress my hopes and dreams for me,
so that the next person whose foot kisses the sand will think of me.

May it be so...and my heart would live on forever in people's chests.

Copyright © Michael Benkhen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

in memory of a rose

your velvety blossoms
slowly withers away
once tender roots
have now decayed
at the thought i cringe
such insidious disease
gradually infects
each and every leaf

moldy black spots
crinkled stained edges
your magnificent growth
gradually suppresses
your unsurpassed beauty 
now fuzzed up and gray
crinkled debilated stems
a dull distorted array

shoots barely opened
leaves now curled and bent
such unforgettable moment
your petals soon descend
your spicy scent has drifted
such sickly brittle vein
Flowers now discolored
and left to thrive on pain

after months of nurturing
your once marvelous display
the thought of you slowly wilting
has left me in dismay



*My theme is taken from Constance's Poem "in Memory of a rose"*

Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010

Details | Verse | |

A Memo As You Go

In four days from today
I wish you well as you go, and you shall walk again
Through the shadow of the day
Where memory forever my spirit keep in chain
And you shall inhale once more
Jasmines naked and dancing to the silver moon
Or hear whispering for sure
The tides that salt us that unwrinkled June
And I shall be far away
Praying as I always pray, waiting your return
To mend broken gaps of day
While among the yellow leaves I walk and yearn

Do not forget me, dearest
Do not with moon or river wander far away
But on pillow of your breast
Give me my rest, give me my hope to play
For bird songs there I know rise
Like angels vestal choir, or sirens seductive song
May bring the heart new surprise
Against all witchery there, keep your love strong
Walk by lignum vitae bloom
Cradle the blue mountain misty morning shape
Tremble at its thunder boom 
And toss your cares across the bright sunlit landscape

There is healing in that place
A certain balm, and invigorating freedom there
An edible sense of grace
So delicious to those who walk with feet bare
Like children before the change
And yet for all the beauty and the music I keep
Another memory strange
The place where in my arms a princess fell asleep
The place where your kiss became
The elixir for which kings and heroes search and died
Where first the stag was made tame
No other beauty there may so my joy provide.

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Shades And Valleys

Golden soft was the light that swiftly flew,
As whistling rain pelted majestic oaks
And the soaked birds began to cry for you
As Nature silently wrapped up its cloaks

Thirsty for coming dawn, so bold and new.

Silver Maples fluttering in the wind,
Where the fast sleeping rabbits hid away
All beautiful, we wish  to never end
With brightened colors, every joyful day

As Nature's beauty flows out to transcend.

Life streamed quietly in the lands of peace
And the still waters kissed by skimming birds
Beneath a deep blue shade, it was a bliss
In such days, everything could spill our words

Joys forever, days sealed with heaven's kiss

Morning-tide, we would scent the wafting breeze
Coming from the trees swinging in the air
The deep valleys where waters did not cease
The silent streams, ran like poetic flair

Beneath nature's shades, and beauties of His


collaboration poetry: *Robert Lindley & Truefeeling*

Copyright © True Feeling | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Time Runs On Past Every Bend

Time Runs On Past Every Bend

Down new trail with purpose and gentle ease
chasing hope and new morn's glowing smile.
Flowing along with a sunrise breeze
heart stopping awe, every once in a while.

Branches overhead wrapped in deep forest green
bird songs filling this emerald isle.
Sun gracing the screaming sky blue sheen
above this leaf carpeted aisle.

Hoping time here never dares to end
as wanting heart finds its needed glow.
Yet find that time runs on past every bend
and brings Nature's all, along in tow.

Down new trail with purpose and gentle ease
spirit flows along with a sunrise breeze.

Robert J. Lindley, 7-05-2016

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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.

Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Memories On Branches

An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.

Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.

On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.

Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.





March, 7th, 2014

Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

That Girl

Everyone thinks they know that girl. At 
least they think they do. 
You know that girl that makes everyone 
laugh, and is a class clown. Who used 
to be a star athlete. And had everything 
going for her.
Yeah that girl that everyone thinks they 
know
She became homeless at the age of 16 
due to a house fire.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
Yet that girl is still laughing away and 
making everyone laugh, but isn't the 
same inside, No, Something inside of 
her changed they way she felt.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
She became mentally ill, she was 
diagnosed with major depression and 
bipolar disorder. She was always under 
medication, so you never knew what 
side of her you where going to get.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
No one knew how much she hated 
hearing sirens go off, or how she 
couldn't stand seeing fire trucks. She 
struggled living her life daily.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
She lost her closes friends cause she 
shut them out and nearly lost them all.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
From what I hear it's been 3 years 
since the fire and that girl is barely 
getting her sight of her future back.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
She is talking to her lost friends again, 
but just isn't the same for her, so she 
has to make new ones. Which means 
she has no one.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
know
She is happier now and is looking 
forward to graduating and moving on 
from this chapter of her life and letting 
go.
How do I know so much of her?, well 
"that girl" is me.Yeah that girl that 
everyone thought they knew. 
But im fine now. Sure I have my 
downfalls, but I still get up and smile. 
THAT GIRL IS ME, I AM THAT GIRL.

Copyright © Laura La Quay | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

A Peaceful Place

A peaceful place where memories linger,
     linger through the grasses upon soft winds,
          winds that carry the nightingale as she sings,
                  sings a lullaby to the passed at restful sleep.






*Not an entry for Nette's contest, but it was inspired by visual #3 (cemetery)



Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

Details | Pantoum | |

OVER THE TRANQUIL PLACE WHERE LOVE SUDDENLY GREW

Over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew,
night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter.


Night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
and it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter,
we pondered the new mystery...so distant was the sunrise.


And it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise
as a memory which can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
we pondered the new mystery...so distant was the sunrise;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon.


As a memory that can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon...
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness.  


Our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness...
over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

On nights like this

Half of the world is asleep

And black bellied clouds rest upon the mountains

Sending rain to punish my roof 

While heaven complains against the ebony night

Shadows dark as evil sprawl beneath the trees

And lovers laugh, dodging puddles as they run

 

Gutters gush, gargling the torrent

As half of the world is asleep on rumpled beds

While creatures watch from boughs and burrows

The sycamore slumps beneath the storm

Where a hawk is stranded on a sheltered limb

And streams and brooks boast beyond their bends

 

The scene is solemn beyond the window

Where rivulets slide, blending into each other like lovers

A glaring bolt slides over the peaks, through the clouds

And the clouds complain about it a moment after

As half of the world is asleep, but not me

I have too much forgetting to do about nights like this

Copyright © DAVID ELLSWORTH | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home

Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Freedom Remembered

In a zoo in a strange land
a zebra stands 
flaunting the bright stripes
 of a collective band 
against the russett tussle of leaves
 that exit trees before a cold wind.

He is far  from the windswept plain
of his dreams; that parched place
where drought adapted trees wane,
 until at last renewed by rain,
an over-night fantasy of growth
 glides greenly,
quicker than evening-tide.

Here, where Autumn has a strange glow,
bare trees, steal the dapple from his coat. 
Knee deep in a pile of red leaves
he yields the life blood of his soul,
flowing from a freedom remembered

 Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Self PORTRAIT

I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide

I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight

My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign  
I twirl my hair and make it bend 
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends

As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin

The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions

I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane

Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed

The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair 
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose

I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key

It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore



Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Cricket - Haiku

     Cricket - Haiku

missing legs and sound
forest, rainless storm rages
remembers cricket

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE CHANDELIER'S DECORUM

     They suggested that I was just a toddler moving fast.
     As they wine and dined, I heard all of them say
     She will be sent to the best schools.
I was only three.

     The living room was elegant.
Expensive furniture and beautiful walls of wallpaper with silk drapes were the interiors   
     design.
When the sun shined through the windows, the splendor was defined.
     I love to just see the flowers bloom free; so divine.
My mind ponders on those days.

     Walking to school was always enjoyed
     Until one rare occasion where I was chased by German shepherds.
     I was eight years of age walking the tracks.
Do you believe I am alive today?

     Natural life can be whimsical.
     It provides you the acumen of a scholar.
In that room was diversity in the races.
     There were colors that delineated tomorrow.
     There were struggles to never be departed.
Impulse urge notion prophecy foresaw.
     The chandelier chimes when the wind blows.
__________________________________________________|
Penned April 05. 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

United Nations Plaza

Temperature dip
urban leaves turned
Autumn, sniffing around
for a place to settle
no Farmer's Market
in San Francisco today.

Copyright © Jen Franks | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Stint that end

... stint of adventure,
all in six sequential dream.
Odyssey complete.

Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 01 - Camping

Return from cold trails
to find a crackling warm fire
and freshly grilled trout.

Copyright © Kayleen Ashwood | Year Posted 2015