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Nature Mother Poems | Nature Poems About Mother

These Nature Mother poems are examples of Nature poems about Mother. These are the best examples of Nature Mother 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 | Narrative | |

Birth, in a Quiet Room

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

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

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

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |


Wake to me, she whispers - be alive in me.
Feel me in your heart and embrace me!
Daylight seeps into every vibrant sinew
of mornings glorious hue … and breathes …
An eggshell blue sky marvels to crystal retinas,
a dreaminess so flawless, untainted,
a distant all enveloping  backdrop
beset with a rising sun jewel of yellow flaming orange.
This new day begins with a warm kiss
from nature’s sweetly pursed lips of cherry blossom,
meadows of crops rippling in the breeze ,
they dance and cajole – a pollination waltz for lovers.
An unseen, yet gently felt breeze caresses life,
an exhalation from mother nature herself.
Beech and sturdy Birch trees, creating walkways
of splendid green canopies vie for attention.
The majestic oak stands silent, a sentinel
of longevity, splendour, and might, breathing life
into our atmosphere like giant lungs,
honest leaves working  as one
with this wonderful oxygen enriching  guardian.
Long, hot, sweat filled days will labour under a sun
that gives love and takes its toll in equal measure,
drying the lush green grasses to scorched yellows,
stripping fingers of bark from emaciated trees
until the day ebbs away to twilight, the land settles
to a very welcome cooling breeze.
Shadows stretch and yawn, extending the dark places infinitely,
to embrace the evening ......
 ~~~~ Sun sets ~~~~~
A beautiful red orb sinks into a blue black landscape,
like an apple dipping into a pocket …
this day has ended,
with an orchestra of evening birdsong ....
       and a red sunset....
           thus begins ...
        the quiet of night.

A Shadow Hamilton Travesty .. :)

Copyright © Ian Guyler

Details | Rhyme | |

Mother Nature ?

Mother' has no nature,
T’s  mind’s illusion,
Brings to that conclusion,

T’was God' who made the worlds,
And saves from perils,

Also the vast expanse,
T’was not by chance,

By great explosion'
Was God’s exposing,
His inner self, to some degree,
That all could see,
What nature' Love be,
The Tower' of power,

The great bang'
Scientist claim,
Brought our world to fame,

Power of God’s great quality,
Brought forth this great quantity,
Love is the nature of it all,
Because of God’s call,
It doth not fall,
By love’s intention,
God’s invention,
Of spinning intention,

Black holes'
Are only God’s goals,
They only remold,
When forms grow old,
And finish their intention,
Of love’s invention,

Recycling the universe,
Getting ready, for re-disperse,
Re-forming new forms,
No cause to be alarm,

Great consciousness' the- God-of bliss,
Keeps up--with-all-of -this,
Some call, great cosmic mind,
Doth keep aligned,
The worlds are fine,

The great cosmic mind’s,
Nature love, is fine,
Keeping all aligned,
And purely refined,
Mother is in line,
Till end of time,

Love's gold' Life cycled,
Doth never grow old,
Re-cycle, Re-mold' 
Love' God's Gold!!


Copyright © john freeman

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 | 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

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Rhyme | |

spring thaw

spring thaw
the ice breaks-
into song 

Copyright © Anthony Slausen

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Urban Forest

  All I hear are sirens echoing off tall buildings; a drunk man ranting, a prostitute looking for her next trick, a drug addict looking for his next fix. Young teenage kids who seem to have just learned the art of curse. A young couple fist fighting in the streets---more sirens.  A homeless man pan-handling, picking up cigarette butts and smoking a hole into his neck, gum pushed deeper into concrete marked blacker with every step. All I hear are sirens and I say a little prayer for the person in the back. Trains and boats chiming in the distance, a stray cat limping into an unknown existence...must be nice to have nine lives! Yet, all I hear are sirens in this concrete urban forest, where trees are replaced with buildings and cars are the only waves I hear, street lights in place of the stars, sirens in place of the wind. 

   I close my paper eyelids tight, i can hear in this concrete urban forest of man-nature, for a glimpse, a stolen second in time, the sound of Mother Nature...she still sings and she's crying. She's crying for the people in the back of all those sirens. She cries for her bush the drunk man urinated on; the puddle of blood collecting on her blades of grass that a young man drew from his womans lips. She cries for her branch the teenage kids snapped for fun. She's crying - Mother Nature - is crying, because man - nature takes her place. In this concrete urban forest...all I hear are sirens and I close my paper eyes; i try to reach out and steal the tear off of - Mother Nature's - face. All I hear are sirens and im saddened, man-nature takes her place.

Copyright © amy epiphany tunks

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 | Free verse | |

Mourning Since Dawn

Why must the mourning come
with every dawn?

The sky is crying again today.
I heard her sobbing
as I laid in bed.
She would calm down
for a little while,
then it would start up again.
Did I do something
to upset Mother Nature?

I watched in solemn silence
all afternoon
as her tears
streak down my window pane.
I wonder what I can possibly do
to comfort her.
There are no tissues large enough
to wipe away
a streaming flood of sorrow.
Maybe this is just Mother Nature's way
of grieving,
and soon it will pass.

The newborn flowers
open their blossoms
to receive and embrace
her gift.
Mother Nature is so beautiful
even when she cries.

May 13th, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Dodoitsu | |

White Wedding

Confetti flutters the sky
A bride dressed in pearly white
Footprints pave bright virgin snow
Steps to her future

Copyright © Eiken Laan

Details | Rhyme | |


So young myself, I was naive'
Without a doubt, I did believe
the babe, then latched inside my womb
was bound to me, and would always be

Latched on, was he, as he was fed
Then later on, our hands instead
Not tall enough to open gates
I'd reach the latch for his escape

In time he grew to need more space
The bond we had, would stretch in place
With loving smiles, I watched him play
He longed to grow, and threads grew long
He reached to climb, and fly the wind
Yet ties remained, still ever strong

Years would pass, too soon, a man
Old ties would change, yet carry on
Love came along, as it should be
My eyes, if wise, must let it be 

This union blessed, was good to see
Her love for you, the world could see
It didn't mean my son was gone

Songs are sung when lovers part
But no song for a mother's heart
When new adventures come one day
Those new roads take him far away

The man he is, has been set free
To be the man he wants to be
The child he was is never gone
She's letting go, yet holding on

If once, one wish were mine to choose
So many do my thoughts pursue
But one within my heart still yearns
If just one day, the clocks would turn

Together you and I would be
Sitting here among the trees
I would hold you close, upon my knees
then turn you loose, to join the leaves...

First Poem Submitted To Poetry Soup 
Written not long after the weddings of all three of my children
who were all married within 1-1/2 years of each other! 
I must have been feeling the empty nest blues and all the changes that came along !  :) 

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Under canopy of majestic oaks,
leaves swaying, gentle breeze,
rustling of the dancing leaves,
flying chirps, all species,
joyous laughter, melodic sounds,
like violins, bees abound,
peace surrounds
in backyard paradise.
As I partake of nature’s scene,
eyes affix whites, magnolia high,
reminisce of mother in the sky.
Lessons of nature, she did give,
exploration through wooded path,
wild flowers we did name,
birds’ identity, toadstools find, 
love of nature by her design.

Won HM in Mac McGovern's 
Best Poem Contest
June 10, 2010

Copyright © Carolyn Henderson

Details | Haiku | |

Mother Moon

Sailing the sky-seas, Ship of light; ship of madness; Mother moon beguiles.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser

Details | Couplet | |

Mother Nature Cries

Mother Nature Cries

Mother Nature cries now her deep tears of true sadness,
For all the years of Man’s sad shame and utter madness.

Man has brought this lovely lady quite often to tears,
By his poor and pathetic care of our Earth over the years.  

Mother Nature’s been with Man now it seems forever,
And he does nothing at all and always tells her never!

Man’s climate sins are so tragic and always most telling,
And all he does is bitch and moan, and keeps on yelling!

Man’s span of existence is short in our Earth’s long life, 
And all he’s done is corrupt, pollute and caused her strife! 
Mother Nature cries at this sad tragedy Man has thus wrought;
She knows his life on Earth may be short, and learn he’ll Not! 

Mother Nature will adapt and evolve over time with no problem,
And she knows Man’s adaptability to change may be a problem.

Perhaps Man will learn this sad lesson here before all is too late,
And seek climate harmony in all he does and make positive his Fate!

Mother Nature cries—yet this can change with Man’s redemption,
If Man becomes Earth’s Good Steward and lives by God’s direction!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - May 3, 2015
(Rhymed Couplet)

*Originally completed for my new book on February 12, 2015.

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Free verse | |

Becoming Mother Nature

What if Mother Nature
and I applied for her position?
How would I dare
to assume,
 her un-ending cycles;
 her secret duties?
Could I invoke such power,
 or must I simply become her?
Spin myself
 into a cocoon of natural faith.
Let the atoms of the cosmos
 transform my light into spirit.
Would I then emerge,
 complete with every force of mystery?
Awaken each day with pink mist,
 and burn each evening sky
 with crimson?
Command each leaf, each breath
and every symphony 
of living?
Would I wear her gowns
 of argent, lavender and aqua;
step lightly on mossy stones,
 and dance upon silver meadows?
Grace the heavens
in cloud-white glinting wings
and in
 the depths of darkest night
 bear stars, filled
with the promise
 of every beginning?
Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney

Details | Free verse | |


UNGRATEFUL CHILDREN   A parent's lament

   	with Wings
    	and Talons
Pounce on the fleetest of hearts

                 over the
                 Blood Transfusions
    		Hospital frights of prematurity
             			 of EMS sirens
                              HIV trembling tests 
   		 Asthma Tents
                Breathless Worry atop cloud kissed Trees
                Sleepless Nights of bully battles
                Struggles with Education’s foes
                 Mad Escapes from Fathers of Violence
                 The teary wave good bye for fledgling endeavors
			Day night day night day night…unending

Land  on

      Slight Imperfections and Imagined Slights
            or the

Shortage of Cash
                    New Shoes 
                    New Cars
	or other

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop

Details | Haiku | |

The Soliloquy of Mother Earth

the bird sings softly
the leaves dance so gracefully
becomes forever dream

Copyright © Anthony Pabon

Details | Personification | |



Once upon a time I was so beautiful

Now my body is cluttered with pestilence
I’m slowly dying inside
Hear my suffering
Feel my rain of tears
My seasons of grief and anguish

Please restore my magical beauty and charm
The rhythm of Harmony and balance
So I can survive

If you love me, keep me clean and recycle
Everyone needs to pitch in!


Contest Name: Stuff
Sponsor: Thomas Martin

Copyright © Eve Roper

Details | Haibun | |

Haibun 001: Blue Heron

I pause my schedule with a stroll along the Mill Race Park. Unfortunately, my eyes, heart and soul are assaulted by waves of creeping garbage. I collect some of the litter, only to dump it into a metal bin rusting out at the bottom -- garbage goes in, garbage flows back out, strewn around by spring gusts. Next time, garbage bags are in order. I will fill them up and carry them home, only to possibly be mistaken for a homeless man carrying all of his worldly possessions in black, plastic bags. Oh well, people can laugh at me, then come down here and spread some more rubbish along this watery, green belt. A Blue Heron is tentatively fishing amongst the garbage and chemical slicks shimmering on the water's surface. This bird is the official symbol of our river-town. We should show some more respect to this regal, yet ever-secretive member of royalty -- show some more respect to this symbol of our town's heritage. I will not let this filth drag me down into an abyss of apathy. To be mistaken for a hobo, is a small price to pay, in giving back to this Heron, some of the dignity it so deserves. the blue heron fishes amongst litter -- a tarnished crown

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Rhyme | |

mother nature, mother earth

Mother Nature, Mother Earth.

If Mother Earth stood in front of you what would you say? 
Sorry for taking your whales away,
 Sorry for cutting your forests to shreds, 
Sorry little animals for taking your beds, 
Sorry polar bears for melting your ice, having to swim further to save your own live, 
Sorry to all the fish in the sea, because its to hot you try to flee.
 Sorry for the birds and the bees, not many left on the all gone trees. 
Sorry for the nuclear plants, but man seems to think that he must advance. 
Sorry for the wars we cause, they certainly are not gods or yours.
 Sorry for the faith man has lost, your biggest creation is losing with cost.

 If you were Mother Earth and told these things, what would you say to me?
“SORRY, SORRY, SORRY”, is all you have to say,”
  You destroy everything which we have given you”.
 ” The animals are going have gone extinct,
 You kill the air you so precisely need,
 You fight each other and call it in the name of god, which god do you perceive,
 The one with love to all, for all, which he created,
 Or the one who fell from grace with hatred. 

I would look at her with glee
 Because the earth sounds like the second scenario to me.
 The next question I would ask
 Mother Nature are we going to last
. If everyone on the earth of today
 threw down their arms and started to pray
would  god hear our prays in just that day
mother nature would look at me 
and look around at the all gone trees 
then she would bend down on her green leafed knees
A tear in her sunlit eyes saying to me
“Sorry to late”.

What would you do if Mother Earth or Nature stood in front of you?

The End. 

Copyright © gail smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Where Has Dad Gone, Mama Dear

Where has dad gone, momma dear?
Hush, my little lamb.
Your dad's gone to the thicket dear 
And mad old Abraham

That man went early this grim morn, and took his sharpened knife
And with him took his own first born, to offer up his life
With servants and with firewood, both, they journeyed to Moriah
And on the hillside there they built an altar and a fire

And Isaac, when he heard the plan, went willingly, it's odd
That he should let that daft old man, so worship his cruel god.
Your father, he was passing by, and heard but could not see
And foolishly could not deny his curiosity

So closer did your father scramble peering through the thorns
Unaware of how the brambles tangled with his horns
Just to see a crazy man who planned to kill his kin
Your father did not understand the danger he was in

For then again that mad old man started hearing voices
His god was speaking to the loon and giving him new choices
And so his plan to slay the boy came about to falter
And Abraham, he took your pa and dragged him to the altar

But that was never fair, mama, can you tell me why
When Isaac he was all prepared and well prepared to die
And all had been decided on, so what cruel trick mama
Was played upon that grand old ram, who was my own papa?

Life is not fair, my little lamb, nor is it like to change
And fate plays tricks on all of us, both sinister and strange
So you take care, my little lamb, with this advice from me 
Do not visit places where you know you should not be

The moral of this story dear, is take heed of the odds
And stay away from two-leggies worshipping their gods

Copyright © Lee Leon

Details | Rhyme | |

My mother, my earth.

Into the light I see,
with rays in clouds and warmth in me.
Brittle is the air around,
no voice is there, nor sweeter sound.

Within my scars and broken back,
there are my kin, there love I lack.
The oceans turn, therefore I weep,
Is it truly my tears to keep?

Now the mountains begin to fall,
like sand and dust to death they call.
I hear my children bleed and cry,
there bellies thirst and almost dry.

Some will seat and eat there fill,
"lets help them now, so now we will!
His mother would find pride within,
a pretty thing this life of sin.

Alas, my days are almost through,
my breath, my flesh and heart is too.
Let this be my final song,
for war alone is for the strong.

Into the night I see,
is there still love left for me?

Copyright © Bellantony De Mertens

Details | Fibonacci | |

Betrayal Of The Soul

Rocks baby
Singing  happy song
Love in its purity bonding
Daddy slips into the arms of another woman

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Haiku | |


on her tresses
mom's floral clips

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |

Myth of Mother Earth

Is there really a mother of earth 
watching over us 
keeping things in line
I think there used to be 
but she got tired of getting spit on 
now she sits up on her cloud
high above and waits 
for us to tear each other apart
and seal our evil fates
she wonders why we disgrace her lands
like monkeys in a rage
she thinks we ought to be locked up
no need for lock and key trapped inside
to burn forever at an intolerable degree
never the less we shall live on 
reeking havoc upon this earth
she'll stay perched upon her cloud 
until the crushing blows we throw 
send her beloved planet into a rebirth

Myth, Mythos, & Mythical Characters Poetry Contest
by: Virginia Frayer

Copyright © Virginia Frayer

Details | Couplet | |


Stork flights in unison                                                                                                                                               To teach unity to every person

Holding the neck extended                                                                                                                              Aligning the body as if amended

With legs pushed behind                                                                                                                            To cope with blowing wind

With wide wingspan like the glider                                                                                                                         In a well-defined order

Hover with one, as leader                                                                                                                                        Of course, watching is a wonder

With the flame of foresight,                                                                                                                                     Stork sets own nest on height 

Bears young ones into the wing                                                                                              Benevolently while growing

With wings, provides shade to the young chick                                                                                                                    So that they could learn to pick

Causes to clatter to communicate                                                                                                                 About the impending threat, to indicate

Maintains link with the group                                                                                                                    To get the team spirit, recoup

Revisits the old-aged-mother                                                                                                                                 To attend to issues that may bother

Cares the mother, with fresh feed                                                                                                                           As the mother may need

Stork is a bird of highest spirituality          
In Hebrew, stork means love and loyalty!   
Above poem is from “EAGLE EDUCATES ENDURANCE! AND OTHER POEMS ON NATURE ” by Shri.V.Muthumanickam.


Details | Free verse | |

Reverie Saturday in the arms of Mother Nature

Saturday in the arms of Mother Nature

That state – in between – just before one leaves consciousness
in order to cross the threshold into that  world of the subconscious
That place between semi wakefulness and the land of dreams
where life is surrealistically richer, deeper than reality
and clearer than the images one sees in the world of dreams.
In this fantastic, altered state of being, I felt, I touched
a beautiful of pink where all life begins, and begins !
My lips. my tongue, my fingers tips sailed across a body
of pure water, caressing every atom, every epithelio
of life, stroking your soul from head to your little toe
and back to the world of pink, where sweet lips met mine,
lubricating my tongue in the most passionate French kiss
your motherhood has or will ever have known !
My state of reverie !, my dream, but not your reality.
The reverie of my Saturday, I’d love to make your reality !

B. J. “A” 2
February 18th 2007

Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield

Details | Free verse | |

Must It Be So?

We were sleeping
When the dirty water
Came rushing down,
Drowning our arrogance
And releasing our fears
Into the atmosphere.

We were stunned.
Ravaged by consequence
Melting around our feet.
Disorienting panic
Was devoted to the air,
Igniting exhausting anarchy.

Pandemonium ruled
This day
While we were rendered speechless,
Ruined by our own
Inability to escape
Such confounding spoils.

The dirty water rose,
Bringing indignant death
And uniting a new breed,
The best and worst
Humanity has to offer
To this brave, old world.

Voices lifted into the molten sky,
Crying for help
Beyond comprehension,
Catapulting an echo
Even as it occurred 
Around the globe.

Why must it be so
That man’s integrity
Is tested by disaster?
Why must it take
Such extreme devastation
To wake us?

Copyright © Pamela Davison

Details | Free verse | |

Mother natures caress

Blue topaz delight constantly in motion
forcing up salty waves of might 
Feel the sand under your feet,
feel it ride back to the sea 
Cool wet ocean aroma 
crashing on the rocks of the border 
Spray forth into the air 
Dried sea squirt upon my face, skin and hair 

Drift wood beaten by the master, 
you lay stretched out with seaweed stuck to your side
dehydrated from the sun, reshaped, unworn, overdone
The sea is unkind to all that enter her blind 
For she has a mind of her own
To many a tale she’s has claimed 
twisted ships, boats and all that were maimed 
Rest quietly now on her sands of splendor 
For when night approaches all must surrender 

Copyright © Laura Mckenzie