These Water Nature poems are examples of Nature poems about Water. These are the best examples of Water Nature poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
~ CALYPSO ~
Odyssey of the open ocean
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight
A beautiful name whispered along the night
Calypso, enhanced with enchanted lullabies
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to;
--Sunsets of the secret sea.
Mysterious-- many precious places to go,
Calypso -free flowing, floating legend!
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea
Whisper, Calypso come for me!
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me!
Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view
Visionary Vessel above liquid level,
as divine in spirits she sails.
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name
Aquatic of belief-----------------------
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's
For all eternity-------------------------
An oak tree stood beside a narrow stream
All bent and twisted like an agéd man
So gently flowed the stream through ancient roots
While laughing with the innocence of youth
In summertime the children came to play
Within the cooling water of the stream
Or rest beneath the gnarled oak tree's limbs
Spread, father-like, to shade them from the sun
In autumntime, when gusts and breezes blow
The leaves would float like dancers through the air
First here, then there, they softly tripped, until
They lit at last to grace the frozen ground
In wintertime, the sprightly youths would skate
Along the crystal surface of the stream
Above, the windswept branches firmly stood
Like blacksmiths' limbs are hardened from the forge
In springtime burst the oak leaves forth anew
As kingly robes they grace the ancient tree
Inside its keep the squirrels and thrushes chirp
Secure from danger's threat and free from care
Time sped, its unrelenting chimes yet tolled
The youths that loved its shade have passed away
Yet still he laughs and seems to mock at time
He stands as stout and tall as ages past
But time, its current flows at even pace
And now the oak is bent with cruel decay
Though doubled at the back like aging man
He stands there yet, a monument of strength
~ Written for "Personification" Contest. Second Place.
I used to live beside the sea
It was not long ago
A footpath went along the beach
One could walk, and watch the show
As the ocean played its song of love
And the seagulls made much din
It was a lovely place to go
As each day, it did begin.
I loved it in the morning times
When the moon was big and round
It seemed to rest upon horizon
Such joy I often found
Admiring me, this yellow orb
That seemed so very huge
And as I’d walk, within my dreams
I’d often take refuge.
Sometimes I'd walk there, evenings too
And watch the sun go down
As the sky would turn to marmalade
And it seemed this Sphere would drown
As the ocean swallowed it all up
And the night came creeping in
And seagulls sang there evening songs
How I loved their noisy din.
There’s something about the mighty ocean
That makes me want to write
The seaweed and the salty breeze
Give me such sweet delight
I love the rivers, love the lakes
And yet the wild, wild sea
It has a treasure of it’s own
That just calls out to me.
5 November 2013 @ 0950hrs.
22 June 2010
For mankind has the power to think big
History puts them in the pedestal of their career
Aimless drifting until fatally engaged into drilling rig
Raised a surface at the heart of the sea to exploit oil on its frontier
Oil wells at the deepest sea-bed formed million years ago
Also a marine habitat that proliferate at the cold bottom
Rendezvous for waterfowl and aquatic mammals arrived apropos
To add spectacle to the blue water, as accustomed
The fresh water flowing in a cascade of sparks
The sea free access to an ocean while some in landlocked
Life on Earth comes in the seas and we proceed to embark
As ocean currents supply the heat energy round the clock
Many ritually unclean substances are passing into oceans
Adulterating the purity of water in its freshness
Oil spills from off-shore and tanker spread discoloration
Suffocating marine life and ingesting illness
Chronicling ecological cycle literally affect food chain
Stripping resistant from their organic structure and suffer
From the toxins of oil spill prevents water replenishment
Coating aquatic surface with stain holding tougher
A closer look are dying birds and aquatic mammals
Leaving a baleful mark on the waterways
Cleaning up the breakdown oil is costly and fatal
That I may see no more escalating sense of bad omen into the ocean’s forays
13th place winner to:
GULF OIL SPILL CONTEST
7/4/2010 Sponsored by: Team PoetrySoup
This Lake so beautiful.
The lake so very beautiful
Paints pictures in my mind
Ducks, Ibis, and Pelicans
And birds of every kind
Mix with the shades of many greens
And the clouds that ride the sky
All these things added together
Make me one happy guy
A Kookaburra in a tree
Gives out his ghostly laugh
Giving a sense of solitude
On the silent morns behalf.
And all around that lake there lies
Islands green and tiny
As morning sun shines on the lake
It looks so sheeny, shiny.
The other shore holds many homes
Their roofs of reddish brown
Appear to me like in a movie
Of a little lakeside town
White egrets wade in the water
Their world all harmony
As two black swans come floating by
With all their mystery.
A flock of seagulls fly above
There whiteness oh, so pure
As the sun shines down on them
I’m filled with such allure
Oh, all the beauty of this lake
Gives to me so much joy
And fills my mind with memories
That nothing could destroy.
Free verse to Rhyme Royal
This morning the water is,
glass still, an indigo mirror.
Shyly it reflects each hill, each lofty palm,
a soft collage of orange clouds.
Time now, to summon thoughts, delineate them,
confess faults, spill forth, a profusion
of memories, immersed in reverie.
Slowly, as clouds disperse, the day begins to pulse.
As ripples, eventually distort the river
I stir, myself.
Time now, for me to assume, day-time’s demeanor.
Like any cloud or tree, be buffered
by whatever comes along.
This morning the river is glassy-still.
Its surface a collage of orange clouds,
of lofty palms, and every nearby hill.
And I, immersed in reverie away from crowds
Summon thoughts, confessing faults, to spill
a profusion of reflected memories
Mirrored to de-lineate in reverie.
As day begins to pulse and clouds disperse
Ripples from unruly winds distort the river
I stir myself, day’s journey to traverse
Preparing for what day's events are likely to deliver
Like any cloud or tree that Nature buffers
No longer to remain a simple dreamer
Time now to wrap myself in Daytime’s Demeanor.
In the musty mountains crevices
covered with overgrown foliage.
Trees hang on the edges
grasping the sheer rock
of these aging towers
that reach for the sky.
The clear pristine waterfalls
flow endlessly, cascading downwards
Into the cool blue pools below.
The water creates a rainbow
within it's downward spiral.
Sparkling water sprays
all that lies in it's path.
As it flows the downhill slopes,
it veers and runs to the canopy
of forest below.
The water along with it's cleansing rain
are nature's refreshment.
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
One fine day as I was traversing the green,
in the last throes of Autumns' twilight.
I sat upon a flat stone,
overlooking a trilling brook,
to ponder the meaning of life.
As I sat ,and thought,
the soft chimes of music,
from the water spirits,
lulled me into a dream state.
Some where in that liquid crystal,
stubborn stones are worn smooth,
by the passage of time.
Elsewhere the fluidous mercury,
rushes toward a cleft ,
a water fall.
Bringing forth melodies,
never to be reproduced ,
by mere human hands.
As my lids grow heavy,
I'm awakened by the flash of silver,
silhouetted by the last rays of the setting sun..
With regret its time to leave,
as I turn to go ,
a misty rainbow is captured ,
by the fading beams of light.
I smile, at peace,
the promise ,
the sun will once again ,
eclipse the horizon.
If the lovely breeze had a name
we could drift together as two dandelion wishes
floating wanton on foamy winds.
If the river were rolling, gently
we could slide in and swim
for hours, without rushing
and love is like that.
Love is like still water
standing so deep in a vessel
yet so easily broken upon the smallest of stones;
scattered, and yet-
from this another river begins
(as you begin)
How lovely if you had a name
I would call out to you
and I would hear your reply as
the wind blowing, the water rushing
and not your echoes
as you trickled across so many small, jagged stones