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Write Nature Poems | Nature Poems About Write

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

Details | Free verse | |

MY SEX


I’m made of ten thousand layers, curvaceous but stretched thin,
How should I begin to reveal the shape of this maiden-lover-hag
and the landscape that few men view, behind the louvered door?

Archetypes coexist comfortably below and upon my shared skin,
First, the shrew makes minced meat of all your carnivorous ways,
Then, I become the shy virgin again until Venus takes the floor.

Morning, while I tend my child between wringing out wet dishrags,
I release the Mother Goddess, nurse and maid, maker of wee sighs,
Bending down to wipe a tear, kiss a brow, proudly raise a nation.

A chatelaine rattling keys, I walk the wide halls of imagination,
Strong and free, yet accepting of my femininity, moved to cry
by the joys and miseries of family life, twin dimensions of wife.

My hips have turned soft men to stone then have rocked them 
home with urgency; the same hips that sheltered one yet born
now happily support a burdensome basket each laundry day.

Betwixt the ribs, there is still a girl, weaving daisies evermore,
Remembering ribbons tugged from her hair, a tomboy daughter,
Climbing trees, bloodied knees, leaving trails laced with laughter.

Slips out the hoyden, lacking grace and gentleness, too crass,
and the very clouds try to escape the look upon my crone’s face,
Flip and sassy, standing up for the weak, voicing world wrongs.

Daily, the lady, the broad, the nag and miss rewrite their songs,
They play their parts so aptly, leaving me and them quite satisfied,
A lifetime is horribly short, my sex gives all her love and worth,
And men quickly learn that no woman on this lovely earth 
can simply be classified.


*Inspired by Alanis Morisette's "I'm a B_tch"
**For David's contest, I hope
***Began the write May 26, 2012, finished the write May 29, 2012


Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behing,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...


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 | Etheree | |

I write spiritual



I write Spiritual

I really love to write words spiritual
Of sweet nature, and the song of joy
Lay mystery at reader’s feet
Lots of rhythm I employ
I write of birds, and trees
Always write with ease
And lovely style
To make those
Who read
Smile
Love
And read
My sweet words
About the trees
The sweet mystery
All the lovely flowers
And all the magic power
That always mesmerises me
Makes my mind go to our holy God
Whose sacred path it really must be trod

25 September 2014.


Details | Rhyme | |

A New Morning

A new morning once again,
promising difference from others before.
Beautiful this morning as I write with pen
and I feel my spirit soar.

I cannot help but stand in awe
of all that I see before me.
Once again, I hear the call
to write of what my eyes see.

Quiet subdues the great expanse
of the forest to the mountains beyond.
A hawk overhead in the great distance
circles steadily and then is gone.

The sky takes on a hazy look
with the sun not quite coming through.
It is to me as if nothing took
away from this beautiful view.

This day for me holds promises anew
as I see it's quiet start.
Opportunities in this day will come to
strengthen and encourage my heart.


Douglas L. Ace


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

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


Details | Narrative | |

New Paths

A new path is what we seek.
The surroundings are taking a peek,
Going through, very meek,
Seeing no bleaks,
Getting piqued,
While hearing creaks,
In the new paths that we seek...

The new path is what is found,
Going through forests bound,
Going through the path inbound,
With soothing and raging water sounds.
Walking confound,
Silence profounded,
Sight astounded,
Passed through burial grounds...

Seeking for another way around,
Noises resound,
Spirits surround,
The paths newfounded,
Our instincts compounded,
Followed by the hounds,
Echoes in ultrasounds,
Passed through mysterious breeding grounds...

Going to stamping grounds,
Trying to get off this ground,
With those burial mounds,
Death moving the wheels around,
Silhouettes running aground,
Trying to leave safe and sound,
Passing through some hunting grounds...

Seeking for common grounds,
The mistaken path redounded,
Regretful screams abound.
Plans propounded,
Though some are fouled,
Throughout the paths that were found...

However, most are lost and wounded,
Most tended to walk out,
Some minds and hearts full of doubts.
Hearing salvation shouts,
From all these new paths walked and found...


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


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Haiku | |

Colorful Light

Rainbows here and there,
Lights shining in rain so rare,
Colors, sparks and flares.


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




Details | Blank verse | |

The Dust God

I am drifting into memories.
Wasting away like a million photographs fading in the sun-
Yet with ceaseless renewal,
Staining the depths of my eyes with images
In the minds shutter ever fluttering to infinity,
Stringing together this conscious stream I play in-
My stupendous God made of dust and space
Tightrope walking existence!
And to think we too are made of mostly nothing-
Chance so scarcely gracing our atoms with a single touch
In a place so lonely when counted, 
Yet so abounding when felt!
So dance with the Dust God 
Poised miles above the earth-
Prance on your stilts, 
And peek into the great valleys beneath his skin.
Because any moment we could disappear 
Into


Jacob Reinhardt	
9/19/2013


Details | Free verse | |

Autumn's Breath

You whisper in my ear
midmorning bird songs
with that scent of mountain air
and foliage extracting its green emblem.
Switching to fields of neon;
your breath mimics the sunset sky
the feeling of kissing your newborns forehead,
so gentle and soft your entrance.
You ease your way into a majestic overlook
of pomegranate leaves,
and weak, crisp, dead skinned grass.

My delicate irises wince at
overpowering sun rays
but the heart of your existence
I open my eyes for.
I can’t miss this.
My body balanced
by your impeccable temperature,
my darling,
you look so beautiful tonight,
in my window frame,
your fire grows in the pale moonlight.

You whisper in my ear
midnight cricket hymns
so seducing in your presence
that I can’t get enough of this. 


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?


Details | Free verse | |

Louisiana Bayou Spanish Moss

Louisiana Bayou Spanish Moss

So pretty
Hanging from the cypress trees
It grows without showing its age
Never dying it controls the bayou
Hiding nest of the most beautiful birds
It has been home for countless generations
Silver grey by the light of day
It casts ghostly shadows by the light of the moon
Dreamers and poets write of its beauty
Others write of the terror in brings
It is a citizen of an ever shrinking ecosystem
Vital to the world around it
It is bound to die as the bayou shrinks around it
Does it matter to man?
No, but it does to millions of bayou animals
The ones who count on it for life
The others who use it for shelter
Where will they go?


Details | Ballad | |

Silent times

Silent times

Sometimes, I really do not care
About anything at all
My mind goes kind of quiet then
My mode is kind of cool
And all I really want to do
Is sit here looking in
Forgetting all the world outside
Forgetting all the din

There’s a time to send ones energy
And circle it around
But then there comes a sacred time
When the harmony is found
Waiting there within the dark
To hold one cozily
A time to be in her soft clutch
And bask there happily.

Then when the muse has been recharged
It’s time to wander back
And let the words come pouring out
Cause just along the track
The wind, the flowers and dancing trees
Have replaced the mystery
So now the words they may flow free
With much more energy.


Details | Free verse | |

Dark Forthcoming

The dark skies are coming,

Dark clouds are appearing,

The wind is gusting,

Trees are fronting,

We are shunning,

We go running...

 

The dark skies are coming,

Rains are blossoming,

Nature is bumping,

They go cunning,

The sky is drumming,

Forest are burning,

We run intending...

 

Dark skies are coming,

Gusts are interfering,

Nature is in confusion,

Humanity getting in pandemonium,

Minds in disorder,

Intention unbecoming...

 

Dark skies are coming,

Darkness is rising,

Sun is fading,

It is causing an uprising,

It keeps arising,

We keep striving...

 

Dark skies are coming,

Darkness is blinding,

Gusts keep arriving,

Deception and treachery are conniving,

Pain gets agonizing,

We go crying,

You go regreting...

 

The dark skies are coming,

Mountains are crumbling,

Clounds are thundering,

Soil is spoiling,

Bodies are breaking,

Hearts are bleeding,

Birds are flocking,

Fishes are emerging,

Somethings are dying,

Humanity is surviving,

Safety is distrusted,

Most things are doubted,

Everything is happening,

The dark forthcomings are near...


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Going Home

What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.


Details | Villanelle | |

When The Sea Is Angry

When the sea is angry
 Waves, like knives, penetrate deeply
Secrets are revealed
                                                     
Stingrays uncovered, at risk
 Burrow deep
When the sea is angry 
                                                                            
Shells buried for time unknown
 Surface in brilliant majesty
Secrets are revealed

The coral braces, mortality guaranteed
 Death and destruction inevitable
When the sea is angry

Sand scattered, settles again
 History buried, rears its head
Secrets are revealed

What is exposed, covered again
 Nothing left for man
When the sea is angry

An explosion born of fury
 Brings forth, then takes away again
When the sea is angry
Secrets are revealed


Details | Free verse | |

I Took The DARE and Survived It

Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.

Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…

Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be.  Nightmares.  Horrors. 
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…

A few things slipped in.  The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again.  Thankfully.

Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.

Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...  
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.

And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”

I felt relieved.

© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room... 
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a 
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have 
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are 
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to 
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real 
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot 
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed 
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep 
into your mind... Thank you..pd

Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.


Details | Rhyme | |

Might these be

Might this be a wonder,
Might this be a sunder,
Might this be the blocker,
Might this be the warder,
Might there be a plunder,
Might it pass the border,
Might there be a dweller,
Might they be lodgers,
Should they be squatters,
Should they be trespassers...

Might they squander,
Might it scatter,
Might this be a sputter,
Might there be a clutter,
Moght there be to many clusters,
Might this be the controller
Mightit get power...?

Might these be handlers,
Might these be forcers,
Might these be the squashers,
Might these be the breakers,
Breaking some of the order...

Might this be a night,
Going to a wretched midnight,
Coming from a raging twilight,
Until these be ended, throughout nighttime,
Later waking from our bedtime,
Maybe dying to see the morning light,
Might this be happening tonight...?

Might there be a knight,
Might there be a fight,
Waiting for a shining might,
Coming from some rainbow's light,
coming slight from the nighttime,
With some waiting for their fly...

Might these fight the ghouls,
Might they get to their goal,
Might this vanish some ghosts,
Whom want all of our souls...

Might this be other things,
Might these be the lives of life,
With some asking, might these be I...?


Details | Rhyme | |

I Write With My Heart

Beautiful flowers greeted the sun 
as I watched the little children run
Inspired by the warmth of the day
I wrote the first lines along the way

Failing my test in Trigonometry 
I wept under the shade of a tree
Realizing what made it wrong
I finished the first stanza and sang a song

Sailing paper boats along the river
People waited as the cold air made them quiver
I felt their hopes, dreams, and sorrows
I wrote the last lines full of morose

I saw an ambulance in front of our door
I felt my heart trembled in sore
They carried a stretcher...a body covered with white
I stared at those starry stars, and I, continued to write


Details | Rhyme | |

spirits that will outlast

  I'm the sentient of individuality,
the warrior of my path,
free from anything claiming power,
that laughs at social wrath,
that walks with firm ability,,
  I'm the control at present,
that nothing steers for me,
the navigator twards sole horizons,
free destinations I independently see,
honor of my life's intent,,
  Sole creators of this choice,
that others look to see,
that leads with independent indifference,
knowing that it's not free,
leading with the strongest voice,,
  This independence the hardest road,
but worth it above all,
knowledge of this gained wisdom,
you'll rise above the call,
power of one so bold,,
  The ancestors of ancient past,
knew this all too well,
always striving twards independent light,
staring down faces of hell,
true spirits that will outlast.


Details | Blank verse | |

The owl

The owl is wise and strong.
At night it hunts
under the moon,
under the moon that shines
upon the mysteries of the woods.
Under the pine tree drops of water
drip into peaceful ponds that echo mysticism.
The forest is mystery,
the mystery of the Gods and of nature.
The pond is your inner soul.


Details | Quatrain | |

Eyes Gaze

When the sun cast pastel colors
On the far eastern horizon
Like kisses exchanged between lovers
Drawing me as the scent of spring
Lures the honeybee to come taste
Notebook, pen, dictionary bring
To porch, ears tuned, eyes gaze__no haste  

Sponsor: Carol Sunshine Brown
Contest: Who, What, Where
Form: Saraband(one tercet plus one quatrain)
Rhyme Scheme:A,X,A...B,C,B,C
The form not listed so put under Quatrain