Nature Abc Poems | Examples
These Nature Abc poems are examples of Abc poems about Nature. These are the best examples of Abc Nature poems written by international poets.
The Nordic Tribe
There is a movement of Scandinavians
going to the South of Europe, they have their church,
cafes and shops selling the type of food sold in
the North. The Spaniards, say, accept and ignore them
because these strange northerners came here for
The sun does not take anyone’s work.
You can call the economic refugees; it is cheaper here
and that also keeps the heating bill low.
The people of the North dislike refugees coming to their
country, a place to live, and they protest loudly.
One day, when the economy in the south is on par with
the Nordic one, who will leave, or seek other shores
where they can live as kings among the lesser
The Northerners are racists by nature, but do follow
the money and its fluctuations, and they can
See the local people where they have temporarily
sought shelter as foreigners.
A Newspaper
Once upon a time, the Guardian was a famous newspaper
it was democratic, to a certain extent, and readers are
invited to give their view, but with moderation and niceness
If not, they would politely ban the regressor
When the paper was famous, it was a bit left-wing, but always ready to see the other point of view
It was pro-Israel, defending Palestinian artists' rights
while overlooking as long as possible, the utter brutality
of Israeli politics against, say, Palestinians
The fact that the Guardian has been able to change is its
ability to alter its stands, yet holding to their journalistic
who are not left-wing, except for some of them who
Thanks to nature and time, they have wings.
Today, the Guardian is no longer a newspaper; it is more
like a color magazine dedicated to true sex stories shies
not away from lesbianism and what we now call gayness
It caters to a younger middle class, employed in, I think
show business, or the media, with titles like TV analyst
Or a researcher of AI, who will one day make all of them
out of work
When I get up in the morning, I drink a cup of coffee and
For entertainment, read the Guardian
Shoes shopping
I dislike wasting my time shopping for shoes
The man who wrote Wasteland, a famous poem
He is known for this; he did like boots too for walking
He did indeed, and many other things too
I, when I had a bike, cycled through the Wasteland
a domestic landscape growing beautifully wild
I don`t see it now, there is a distance between
me and the dream I had, the touch, the aroma of
Nature is also a memory of horse manure in
a field verdant as the sea around Greenland.
I need a wasteland, a place where I can lose myself
Without it, life is an endless, trivial repetition.
Tomorrow I will buy a pair of walking boots.
The Pleasure Remembered.
I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to her
her hair was matted, her skin was dry, and her lips were a sullen grimace,
not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth.
Once, we slept entwined. I kissed the body and often burrowed
my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine nectar.
She was sitting there, a lonely woman, thinking of her youth,
lost in thought, and her tea was getting cold.
It made me think of the nature of love; there must be a physical
Attraction first, loving the person comes later.
If I met her for the first time today, there would be no physical
attraction, but perhaps she would have had something interesting
to say. I just heard her cooing and sexual rapture.
The thought of sleeping with now was depressing, and for doing
that...no. But we did fly on wings of passion too high for us, and
we burst into flames, only ashes left.
She looked around but didn´t
Recognize me, why should she
A fat, bald man reading a paper?
Ghosts.
I knew of a man who believed in ghosts
but he didn’t believe in resurrection,
he believed in dying as an end of all activity
that was conscious.
But he thought that some people left their mark
on things they had cherished, bend the wood to his will
when stroking his fingers on the table to make it polished,
he leaves behind part of his being.
so when you hear a murmur, it is left behind by voices
someone walking in a hall on the way to the garden,
the thought of the beauty they were going to see were
felt by walls, halls, and old paintings.
Ghosts are the residue of feelings left behind by truly holy people
amongst us those who believe in the beauty
and the use of nature and a true sense of the mysterious
that surrounds us.
Nature Fascists
Those who believe in the sanctity of nature, the survival of
the fittest, and so on, tend to be on the political spectrum
right-wing living off inherited money and believing
it is right for an eagle to kill a rabbit
and they are
right, and of people on horseback pursuing a fox until it
can do no more running and is killed by man`s best friend,
the dog that lacks empathy unless it is a learned behavior
It is a right to tame
nature, but not eradicate it because we
do we well not to harm our future, but farming is needed
despite what they learned, think cattle have to graze to give
milk and meat. The mule has gone, and the tractor has taken
its place, but without sheep and cows grazing in peace and
not knowing its purpose, the countryside would be a place of
fear and wildflowers enjoyed by botanists and goats.
It is the fascist agenda that is scaring the right to
exterminate
what nature lovers think is not worthy of their ideal.
Children in Palestine
He sat down to write a poem for nature
When he closed his eyes saw, bombed-out buildings
Rain dripping from wrecked concrete onto
The street, a muddy pool, but that
didn`t stop the children from playing captains of the deep sea
Another bomb fell and obliterated this harsh idyll
What was left was mist and fire where it once had been
A muddy puddle.
His pleasant poem about a track and olive roots trying
To trip him up, the shepherd, his dog, and the sheep coming
His way the good small of wool like an obscenity today
did little to stop his fear for the future.
A day spring day 1952
It was a day in April, the boy sat by the milk ramp waited for the man, who drove from farm-to-farm, collecting milk for the Dairy in local town There was only one type of milk he knew of it was full fat and tasted smooth and creamy He, became aware of how beautiful the landscape like seeing the nature for the first time and as it tuned out it was also for the last time, his mother was back from the sanatorium He had to go to her he got a job delivering gods on his bike and never returned to the farm, but the beauty of that day has stayed with as a time of glory when the world was unspoiled
Aurora borealis charismatic
Demystifying
Electrical phenomenon, geomagnetic
Heavenly impressive
Joyful Kudos
Light marvelous, nature
Overactive particles
Queen,restless storm triumph
Universe vivid
Wonderment Xanadu
Yay, zazzy
As Balmy
Comets Dazzle, Exhaling
Fragranced Gold; Haloed In Jasmine Kisses~
Lyrical Moon Nimbly Orchestrates
Peace, Quenching Radioactive Stars, To
Unwed Vain Woes; Xylophones Yield
Zephyrs.
For Sale
~~~~~
Australian botanical cycad
Dark evergreen foliage
Grows huge
Includes large modern Norwegian oval pot
Quick reluctant sale
Tenacious unique variety
Wonderful xerophyte young Zamia
A Beastly Catastrophe Damns Earth;
Facing Gruesome Hurricanes-
Invading, Jamming, Killing Landsmen.
Malicious Nature Of Pandemic Quakes;
Raging Savagery Threatens Understanding.
Vanishing, Waxing- Xanadu Yields Zero.
a beautiful cool day enthralling,
flakes gliding, hovering, iridescent,
joyfully kissing lovely magical nature,
outdoors painted, quivering, ragged,
snowy trees unconstrained, vigorous with
Xmas yearning . . . zeal
Apes bounce crazily,
Daring elephants frolic,
Giraffes hilariously interact,
Juggling kangaroos leap,
Monkeys noisily orchestrate,
Penguins quietly race,
Snakes twirl under vines,
Wolves xerox yaks,
Zebras zigzag.
aromatic beauty creates
dancing ethereal flowers
glowing high into jovial
kites lacquering moon
nature oasis polishes
quasars royal stars
tracing universal vortexes
xenoliths yearn zeal
February 1st 2010