Nature Humorous Poems | Nature Poems About Humorous

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

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Details | Haiku |

The Internet: Rtrn

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

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013



Details | Haiku |

places I've peed haiku series

1
Sun glints off ripples
Play of light in sheltered cove
Scenic lavatory

2
Backyard full of stars
Footsteps crack on frozen grass
Moonlit lavatory

3
Forested mountain side
Above twisting single track
Rider’s lavatory

4
Over arid land
Falling rain evaporates
Hot Aussie dunny

5
Sandy beach stretches
Tropical coral waters
Pristine lavatory

6
Beneath St. Paul’s dome
Lies manicured garden
Monumental lav.

Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2014

Details | Monorhyme |

Chocolate Pie

giving endless supply . . .
bright sun, blue sky
beauties for the eye 
bird and butterfly
fields of wild rye
in soft winds sigh
rabbits spry 
and foxes sly
preying hawk's wild cry
on eye and ear sweetly lie
all of nature's works comply

until I hear you sigh
our whole walk gone awry
feet covered in cow pie

Faye Lanham Gibson 
Copyright, October 9, 2014

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014



Details | Rhyme |

FARTING COWS - A TAXING TIME FOR FARMERS - FOR ANNE LISE

When a Norwegian cow passes gas They want to tax the gas from its ‘ass’ A cow passes 4 tonnes of methane each year Just imagine the stink from its rear!!!! Thanks for the inspiration Anne Lise xxx Jan Allison 31st March 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Rain Frogs

Twelve tree frogs sing in loud chorus
on this damp, foggy morn
Their vocal would break the sound barrier
By it nature is torn

Fog caresses the valley
Settles loosely on trees
Exaggerates the silhouettes
Moistens all the leaves

The frogs have removed the silence
Their din walks on nerves 
They need another residence
Where they won't be heard

Ship them to another planet
Box them up in damp wrap
Let them start a new settlement
Send them, get them trapped

My prayer for rain was answered
This morn is nice and cool
The frogs loved it also, singing
To God their thanks refueled

For a moment I was ungrateful
The constant din distrubed
Now I am accepting of the sound
Let them sing unpreturbed  

The tree frogs or rain frogs came out 
in wild excitement last night following the rain..

Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest: A Positive Poem
Written: Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Born to be Wild

I am a wild and crazy lizard
Jump on my motorcycle
each and everyday
Flying down the highway
Getting crazy looks
from the people that I meet
They never seen a lizard
driving ever before
They called the coppers
and now I am on the run
because they may send me
to the looney bin
I am a wild and crazy lizard
living the way I want to live
All I say to you coppers is
I'm born to be wild
and kiss my grits
I'm out of here

Copyright © Julie Leigh Rodeheaver | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

A Strong Womans Revenge

It seems Mother Nature is now going thru the “change”
After millions of years it begins to be so strange
The cycle of birth, whether days or eons of time
Growing pains were abundant with great reason ‘n rhyme.

There came a time of growing, as she filed out her space
Beautiful flora and fauna were put upon her face
For man to inherit all that she had given him
A balance was created, and it was not just a whim…

Man’s intervention would follow, and wars would be fought
She was pushed to the limit, but then she had a thought
“I’m too old to accept constant manipulation.” 
“It’s time to show them who’s in charge, in every nation!”

“Twilight’s coming too early so, now I’ll rearrange…
And, as all women know, hot flashes come with the “change!”

Copyright © Betty Janko | Year Posted 2017

Details | Limerick |

There's No Place Like Home

Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked  witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone  

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: III

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

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

Communing With Nature

Dragon was watching the nature channel, and decided that… 
Communing with nature, is where, IT must really… be at!
He wanted to know: What nature is. What part is he? Is he more than that?
You’d think he’d start at home, but NO! He went to the park, of course! 
The park with it’s mowed lawns, and yes, where the pigeons are, in force!
He ran to an elderly man, feeding pigeons, from a bag, on a bench, of course.

The answer: we’re all part of nature, just nature prime, cause we’re smarter.
Each one’s unique, walk in others shoes, and the answers are there to garner.
Either, he didn't know the trouble he’d stir, or wanted a new story this week. 
I glimpsed a paparazzi camera, partially concealed, that he did quickly seek.
Dragon immediately chose the pigeons, and I knew this wouldn't be good.
Especially, when a wild pack of paparazzi suddenly and very quickly stood.

He picked pigeons, cause they fly like him and are slow at getting away.
Plus he’s banned from the Nature Area, after his flames burned it one day.
First he followed the pigeons and checked out everything they did eat.
He wasn't too impressed as breadcrumbs and birdseed were their treats.
Then they flew to the 5-tiered fountain for a splash and feather bath, today.
But they had to leave when Dragon joined them, toppling it clear away.

The commotion took them to tree limbs, that broke under Dragons’ weight.
The park benches fared much better, as they toppled backwards, I must say.
The bronze statue looked more hopeful, till the Park Sheriff came his way.
The Sheriff of Crazyland fussed and shouted, till they all flew quickly off.
But now, Dragon had perfected the pigeon technique: of drop a load and fly.
It as a shame the Sheriff of Crazyland, was waving and shouting so close by.

Gee! I never knew, that the Sheriff could blow steam, like our Dragon can.
Tho, apparently, Dragons’ is much hotter as the statue arm, melted and ran.
But Dragon complimented him on his steam anyway, as he deftly flew away.
I just stood there and shook my head… as there was going to be heck to pay!
Now… you know why the Sheriff and Dragon simply will never get along.
For the Sheriff has now made it possible for Dragon to commune with... 
‘The New Leash Law’.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Etheree |

Farm Walk

Looking out the barn door in our back yard
I watched a deer run through our cow field,
acting like cow pies were mine fields.
He appeared not to like cows
and seemed to plug his nose
by lifting fat lips
to block nostrils
from smelling
to much
of
what
seemed too
unpleasant
for this fine beast.
He kept on running
lips flapping in the air
making funny bubbly sounds,
purposely or not, I'm not sure
But one thing I do know for certain.
This was the strangest deer I've ever seen.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
09.09.2014
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest
Double Reverse Etheree
1st

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |

Am I Nuts

Am I Nuts?

Chestnuts don’t grow on chests
Walnuts don’t grow on walls
Peanuts don’t come from peas
Cashews come from the fruit on trees
Pecans don’t come from peacock feathers

Pistachios fall from Pinocchio’s nose
Hazelnuts relax in the hazy sun
Macadamias are MacDonald’s big Mac nuts
Almonds are singing nuts, called the Almond Brothers
Acorns come from the unicorns tusk

Nuts are nature’s ways of making sure
We all have a little fun
The biggest nut there ever was
Surely you can see
Is the Nutty Arthur Vaso

Whom wrote these verses three

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Catch a Big'un

If yer one and only wish is to catch one really big fish,
Then ya need ta stop bait'n fer minners.
If you'd read my first book you'd use a big hook,
An'a bait big n'uf fer yer dinners.
It might take ye' awhile, but if fishin's yer style,
Ya might catch 'im with one week 'o fishin'.
It's well worth the wait when a hawg takes yer bait,
An' th' catch is as big as yer wishin'!

Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

The Owl Family

You're on my doorstep
You want a family pic?
Got any mice—rats?

Copyright © Paul Geiger | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dodoitsu |

Two puns

one wearing his homophone
the singular sound that is
pundering to say the least
but I don’t get it
the other his homograph
number one own his tops chart
behind site twenty/twenty
puns walk in a bar

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2015

Details | List |

Sal the Snail's To Do List

Written on November 7, 2015 by Gail DeBole
Updated on November 17, 2015 by Gail DeBole

1. Eat some dirt.
2. "Look" for a suitable habitat for winter hibernation.
3. Crawl up the side of a house.
4. Rest.
5. Finish crawling up the side of a house.
6. Crawl down the side of the same house.
7. Crawl on the sidewalk.
8. Avoid being crunched by a person's shoe.
9. Rest on a pile of stones.
10. Sniff around for some vegetation.
11. Eat some vegetation.
12. Avoid all predators and stay alive to face the next day.

Related Poems:
Sal the Snail's Haiku
Sal the Snail's Bucket List - First Item

Copyright © Gail DeBole | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

To A Caterpillar

Oh hairy, striped, hungry worm;
It's your business your about.
By fall you'll be a fluttering moth,
Once you've turned inside out.

Until then sit and rest awhile,
Upon that shady bush.
Your time on earth is brief you know:
So what's your great, big rush?

Oh striped, sleek, prolific worm;
Some folks dislike you so.
Revulsion's only kept at bay,
In the season of the snow.

You'll start to show your hairy self,
Just past the month of May.
And fascinate us for a spell,
While rippling on your way.

The summer months are filled with crunch,
As you eat your way toward fall.
Most leaves upon the trees have holes,
Their proof you've come to call.

Late fall draws near; bugs disappear,
And with them . . so goes you.
But come the spring your kids appear,
As sure as winter's flu.

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Foul air

It is hard to foul air
in a sleeping bear's lair.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN ATMOSPHERE

I am a party animal, my heritage is mixed
quite content to lounge about when conditions remain fixed. 

Suppose that’s the nobility which Krypton must provide,
maintaining stiff upper lip when I’m all buzzed inside.

Then too, I’m mostly nitrogen, which is very stable, 
tamping volatility of oxygen: it’s able

to combine with hydrogen (that’s also in my make up).
Uncontrolled? Oh that would lead to an explosive break up.

Carbon Dioxide? Its percentage varies night and day:
vegetative respiration, or so the boffins say.

I wonder why I don’t glow multicoloured in a storm:
my neon, argon, radon being Vegas lighting norm.

If I had more Helium the humans would sound squeaky.
I imagine the attraction of that chap Enrique

Would suffer greatly from affliction. He’d become mundane,
and prove downright offensive if I gave him more methane.

I’ve also Nitrogen Oxide, not Nitrous NO2, 
and a soupçon of ozone which had once protected you

from harmful rays from Out There much more than now is measured.
It seems that humans cannot see what really should be treasured.

I’m moved by friction of the Earth and pressure off the bat
while Coriolis effect pushes me this way and that:

north and south of the equator, the opposite I spin.
Any other speculations, my friends, are simply wind.

Copyright © Perry McDaid | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

Wrinkles

Wrinkle, wrinkle on my face…

Couldn't you have found some other place ?

What made you furrow between my eyes ?

And all those creams, they are nothing but lies….

When I look in the mirror, all I can see…

Is a silver haired person staring back at me….

Then there are the lines , which run down the sides of my nose…

Running in circles, round my lips, down my neck and into my clothes….

Speaking of clothes , isn’t that where the wrinkles should be ?

Is nature playing a trick on me ?

Or is this a sign “ old “ is sneaking up on me ?

It seems only yesterday I was a young girl .. and had my whole life ahead of me…

So simple..so free……

Which don’t take me wrong I have enjoyed my life’s ride…

And there isn’t much in my life, I haven’t tried….

But it should would be nice if I could just see…

Myself with one less wrinkle…when I looked back at me…..

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Ode To A Misguided Mouser

There was a young feline named Jackson,
Who wanted a piece of the action.
While hunting for rats, Jack
Got into a spat, with a strange little
Creature known to us as a bat.
 
This then is the fact of the matter.
The bat proved as 'mad as a hatter'.
And it paid with it's life,
Causing Jackson much strife:
Bad luck for the poor little ratter.
 
They arrested the cat in a hurry
And woe to this poor furry purry.
Without even a trial, he was put on 'The Mile'
Where his life became drab and quite dreary.
 
Jack's been sitting there day after day,
Quite bored and just pining away.
While dreaming of mousies and birds on the wing,
Of hair balls and catnip and such kitty things.
 
"How long, oh how long must I pay?
Please won't someone just whisk me away?
Back to my home where a kitty can roam
And stay out-of-doors all live, long day."
 
The end of this tale I hope tell,
Will find Jack finally leaving his cell,
To be welcomed back home, once again
Free to roam, older and wiser and well.
 
"No more bats for this cat",  Jackson moans.
And it seems that he's learned on his own:
It's far better than not, to keep up with ones shots,
Than call three feet of jail space your home! 


© 2015 Diane Lefebvre

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |

Haiku 41

sporadic chimes -
an invisible man
knocks at my door

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Leaf It Alone

As I watched the rain pouring into the drain
I reflected on just how perverse
Was the Summer we had, with the weather so bad,
And the future can only get worse.

Now that Autumn is here, bringing with it some fear
Since the drains are blocked up with leaves
Which are crimson and yellow, so pretty, so mellow,
And they're also blocking the eaves.

As the weather gets colder, the leaves get older, 
Black and dirty, and now..here's the thing!
The council won't clear it and therefore I fear it
Will leaf us at risk till the Spring.

Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |

Do you like Pigeons Dad

‘Do you like Pigeons Dad’

“Oh No”

‘But Why?’

“They’re scummy things
They’re Rats with wings
They’re vermin of the sky”

‘That can’t be right Dad’

“It is”

‘How So?’

“They pilfer seed
They breed at speed
And harbour disease you know”

‘Are you sure dad’

“Oh Yes”

‘Since when?’

“Since the Rock Pigeon flew
And ended up in a stew
Since their domestication by men”

‘But I like Pigeons Dad’

“I know
You do”

‘I like how they sing
I like the shape of their wing
So you should like them too’

“But I don’t like Pigeons Son.
Not now.
Not ever.
Their walk is bizarre,
They crap on my car
And they’re really not that clever”

'But Daaaad…

...they wake me in the morning,
With their delightful coo,
Their plumage is wonderful - an iridescent blue.
They look good in the garden Dad
They don’t make such a mess
Do you like Pigeons Dad?’

…“Yes”



[This poem was the result of being asked this question many, many, many times by my son. My son is on the autistic spectrum - he has Asperger's Syndrome to give the official diagnosis. He is a lovely human being & I love him dearly. But one of his most irritating traits, is the fact that he asks the same questions continuously all day every day. No matter how you respond, the same question will be posed minutes later. Currently and for at least the last 2 to 3 years: 'Do you like pigeons daddy?' is his favourite/most frequently asked question. Now that you know that, perhaps you can really feel the exasperation in that final ..."Yes"]

Copyright © David Sollis | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

Two reasons why we dig holes

Burying dead bodies usually takes place  
In fancy holes dug on some land space.

Most people dig those holes somewhere nice
But sometimes they don’t have a choice.

Some people burn dead bodies to ashes
And this really saves on available land spaces.

Sometimes dead bodies are buried at sea
And slowly sink into muck for eternity.

Other fancy holes are dug large enough,
For the removal of some valuable stuff.

Sometimes these holes are dug somewhere nice
And most times people don’t have a choice.

When all the valuable stuff’s gone offshore
The hole is back-filled and land space restored.

Today we can dig holes in the seafloor
Right through the eternal muck and more.

Holes should be dug to bury the dead 
And to remove valuable stuff instead.

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

THREE MUSKY TEARS

I was walking in the countryside with my two best friends
We didn't see the tractor that was coming round the bend 

The farmer was spreading liquid manure and it sure did stink
He meant to turn the spreader off but he did not think.

The solution had a stench of ammonia mixed with poo 
It absolutely coated me but it missed the other two 

They are crying with laughing at my misfortune 
But when I drive them home they will change their tune.

Darren wants to drive us home, oh boy there is a smell
Shame the car has leather seats, to clean them will be hell

I get Jenny to sit in the front next to my handsome man
She’s lucky the car has air con and is sitting next to the fan

I sit on the back seat with my hand covering my nose
Wish I was in Darren's garden I’d prefer to smell a purple rose

Jenny is quite happy she’s got her hand on Darren’s knee
I tell her to remove it -  he’s MY man and I can see

We drop Jenny home so it’s now just Darren and me
He’s off to have a shower or share a bath tee hee hee

6th July 2014-07-06
Written by JADAZZLE ~ Jan Allison & Darren Watson

Copyright © JADAZZLE UNITED | Year Posted 2014

Details | Footle |

Intellectually Challenging

*ai queue haiku
*ai: 3-toed sloth (slow moving animal) from South America (pronounce: "ah'-I") sloth: slow/lazy person; etc [Also: "A. I." = Artificial Intelligence is the intelligence of machines and robots and the branch of computer science that aims to create it.] queue: people (for eg) standing in line; etc "I. Q.": Intelligence Quotient KEY: I Q HiQ

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick |

Sal the Snail's Bucket List - First Item

Written by Gail DeBole on October 7, 2015

Sal the Snail wished for a ride
On a turtle before Sal died
With his antenna intact
And the wind at his shell's back
He'd relax while enjoying the stride.

Related Poems:
Sal the Snail's Haiku
Sal the Snail's To Do List

Copyright © Gail DeBole | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Gator Bait

Country living in New Hampshire was like heaven on earth.
It was Nature in her glory with the spring’s rebirth.
We owned a big pond and had the wildlife come around…
It was beautiful tranquility that left us spellbound.

It’s city living for me now in Georgia, and a whole other thing.
But Georgia has all kinds of creatures the country can bring.
I’ve gone out with a guy that owns a 15 acre pond,
With snakes and alligators too scary for this blonde.

He and his neighbors get alligators all the time,
And sometimes they kill them for dinnertime!
I don’t know if country life here would be that great,
If I wasn’t careful I would end up as gator bait!
	‘

Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |

GARDEN OF WOES

Twinkling little elephant toes
 Prancing through the Garden Of Woes,
 Sniffing daisies
 With his long dainty nose.

 "Good morning to you", 
 says a cute butterfly.
 With cheeks glowing pink
 The mammoth creature whispers, "Hi".

 Turning from pink
 To bright crimson red,
 He bats his lashes
 And hides his head.

 As the butterfly turns
 And flutters away,
 The prancing little elephant
 Continues to play.

 I realize then
 That it's time for bed.
 Cuz, the dancing pink elephant
 Is all in my head!

Copyright © Tracy Martin | Year Posted 2013