Mother Nature
by Joseph Christopher Liguori and Robert James Liguori
Shh. Can’t you hear her talking to me.
Her voice is the whisper from a tree.
Sweet arms are the branches that grab me tight,
And lift me towards the light.
She’s the angel of the shires
With rolling honey combs of bees to put out my fires
She’s as strong as oak, though soft as pine,
And her embrace soothes me like delicate wine.
Her sweet breath gives me life.
Being near removes my daily strife.
Tender leaves shade me from my fears.
Powerful roots dry up my tears.
Her jealous friends lack the thorns,
So they attack with frenzied acorns.
But she protects with her ancient stature
For here is my girlfriend, Mother Nature.
Saturday, October 23, 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
