Nature Memory Poems

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

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Details | Sonnet |
Floating down with grace and ease
Carried off by the Autumn breeze
Rich in hues of orange and red
Landing in the flower bed

What once was buzzing full of life
Now succumbs to the pruning knife
Staring up at the wilted rose
Another season comes to close

Looking for memories of this day
Not forgetting her fun filled stay
Lying amongst the rocks and sticks
I'm the one the little girl picks

Hurries home with the one she took
Placing it in her poetry book


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haibun |
It's quiet here - quiet in a way that catches me off guard. The tranquility is almost tangible, something I can touch and hold and wrap around myself. I can hear the pulse of faraway waves, the faint hum of the wind, the nonsensical call of distant seagulls. I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding along with the waves. 

As I kick off my sandals, my spirit steps out of my body, leaving behind the material baggage of city life. The sand is soggy beneath my feet and I know my footprints will disappear when the sea rises, as if I were never here at all. 

It's low tide, that magical time when the sea recedes to reveal the ocean floor. Grooves of sand catch pockets of water that are half-buried mirrors, reflecting pale blue sky and slices of violet sunlight that glitter like chipped diamond. 

a vocal seagull descends toward liquid skies – reflections ripple
At low tide, a second beach emerges, stretching all the way across the bay to the opposite shore. I walk slowly, tasting salt on the breeze as it runs invisible fingers through my hair. Strands sweep across my face, catching in my eyelashes before fluttering free once more. The beach is a dream catcher, snagging small treasures when the sea withdraws. And I am a child again, fascinated by the hermit crab retreating into his shell as I approach. I spot the dimpled surface of an urchin’s shell peeking out from wrinkled sand. Other shells are scattered across the beach, some upside down, exposing smooth, pearly souls.
a tiny starfish drifts beneath placid water – lost constellation
When I find a sand dollar, my breath catches. It’s perfectly whole, with smooth, rounded edges and clean, ivory skin. It’s heavy and light all at once, the flawless design at its center subtle and brilliant, like a delicate floral tattoo. How many hours had I spent here as a child, searching for this transitory coin? My eyes fill with unexpected tears as my vision wavers behind distorted pools of grief. I’m half-blind until I blink, releasing salty rivers down my cheeks. Even then, my sight is murky. My tears taste like the ocean and I think, suddenly: Whose tears fill the sea? Written: November 4, 2015 For Charlotte's "Creative Haibuns" Contest

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
The ship in the habor on silvery seas Lay vacant outspread 'neath the glassy moon Drifting in cold whispers of the night Like a drunk man shriveled on clasping knees In the loud echoes of the crawling winds The brave ship nods its old head Restless on the empty stage of the bay When lonely stars bleed their light On what was once earthly sublimity Now silence and haunt lingers there A graveyard of bones and sadness Beside the desolate harbor Rustling in the cold distance Laboring with a haunting melody That invades me in shivers of night. Sadness defeats The happy spaces of my mind Then your sweet kiss would descend Oh... your sweet kiss would descend As a fragrant memory Thawing the pain In the frost of my heart. My soul beckons your presence But silence became my loyal friend And Emptiness - The sorrowing of my hours That slithers through the night As the brave ship nods its old head Crackling and desolate In silvered breaking waters 'Neath moon's limpid eyes My hands descend With crimson buds of April's flowers To rest upon your tomb Of eternal silence.
''Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.''

Copyright © Mustapha Mohammed | Year Posted 2014

Details | Concrete |
  I left my
  heart   in 
 a magical 
  place. A
  place that
  holds years
 of wonder and
 awe. A place that
 knows me  better
 than any  other place
  I’ve been.  This place
  has changed me and 
     molded me into the
       person I am now.
     The forests, trees, creeks,
    and open skies instilled in 
  me a  love for God’s  works. 
The harshness of the winters has 
taught me to be patient and to endure.     My  small
town is where I  learned the  small-town work  ethic;
you don’t get what you don’t earn  and earning what 
you want takes  a little bit of  sweat  and  tears. Here
I  learned  that  you  don’t  have  to  be  blood  to  be 
family.  Brothers  and  sisters  are  made  throughout
years of school together. We relied on  each other to
be happy. This place will forever  hold my heart and
soul. I  am a small  town  girl  through  and  through. 
It’s who I will always be. Forever. Thanks IDAHO
for  shaping  me  into  something  more  than  I  was.

Copyright © Samantha Farr | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
The moment that changed a city
The moment that changed a town
The moment that the earth did move
The moment that walls came down.

Sudden shock in the dark of night
Not expected before a coming day
Jolted from a peaceful sleep
From a nasty brutal sway.

What seemed to be eternity
Seconds that weren't so quick
Suddenly silence spread its sound
Except the echo of an old clocks tick.

Fears for friends and family
The networks all gone down
Checking neighbours in the street
Emotions shaky as the ground.

Listening to the radio
Expecting death to fill the air
Bracing with every aftershock
Terror laid fully bare.

Angels must have worked that night
No one badly harmed
Not knowing in the future
We weren’t to be so charmed.

4th September 2015

Christchurch Earthquake September 4th 2010. The smaller earthquake on February 22nd 2011 was to claim 185 lives.

Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
Rusted with memories among emerald blades the old bicycle sat silent as she reminisced youthful days From the aged old window to the hill of satin dream where freedom fell priceless she sped down the lane In sunlight and song her hair danced as she swayed she kicked her heels outward as the breeze took her away Down past the red barn and over the creek through the meadow of scarlet flowers and along the green thicket In flight her soul cried out as she circled the lane then headed on homeward to shine the dusty frame And in that mere moment contentment filled her soul just her a summer day and her Lady Gazelle of gold ~ Waking in her easy chair a glowing love touched her soul as she glanced out the window where a memory had strolled......

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
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

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
I remember, back before puberty,
and all concomitant complexities,
visiting the pond behind our barn,
to watch water spiders.

I wondered what we would like living on thin transparent skin
between two equally visible universes,
one below, and one above.

life would be somewhat darker
but unlike soil.
I would look down into flowing water space,
watching other little pond insects and amoebas, and lichen,
and occasional predator fish or water snake,
or frog.

I could look up to see flying insects,
and grass forests,
rocks above, as below,
but dry, lighter, easier to maneuver,
to stick to,
to remember.
Again, the occasional predator,
like birds and again those pesky frogs
who also tend to live near life's bicameral surface.

Yet, in a way, this surface,
Boundary Universe skin between two universes,
Prime Relationship limned barrier between air and water universes
has its own specific universal traits,
responding to both air and water flow,
sometimes confluently,
sometimes dissonantly.
My own spidery journey along that surface,
looking in and looking up,
is quite different than looking out,
with confusion as I lose capacity to see down and up
while looking toward my future.

So, my water spider grows three eyes.
Only supereco eye looks directly toward my future,
interpreting Prime Relationship between my right eye,
looking within water below,
and inside,
while my left eye,
looking up and out,
seeks to understand
what this huge mammal,
a red headed kid,
is doing with our day.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


The first snowfall came unannounced
A beautiful blanket of white
Covered the grass now winter browned
And, oh, what a lovely sight

It clung to the tree limbs of a giant cedar
And I watched in anticipation
To me, there's nothing neater
Than the unfolding of God's creation

The dazzling beauty of each tiny flake
And knowing no two are the same
Made me wonder how God could make
Something so small glorify His Name

Yet He, in all His splendor
Was able to create
A scene so beautifully tender
And show the world how great

His imagery lays before us
So magnificent and so grand
And how He holds the universe
In the hollow of His hand

As you reflect on this picture of winter
And the marvelous joy it gives
Give thanks and praise to the sender
Be glad that our God lives


Copyright © Curtis Moorman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
your velvety blossoms
slowly withers away
once tender roots
have now decayed
at the thought i cringe
such insidious disease
gradually infects
each and every leaf

moldy black spots
crinkled stained edges
your magnificent growth
gradually suppresses
your unsurpassed beauty 
now fuzzed up and gray
crinkled debilated stems
a dull distorted array

shoots barely opened
leaves now curled and bent
such unforgettable moment
your petals soon descend
your spicy scent has drifted
such sickly brittle vein
Flowers now discolored
and left to thrive on pain

after months of nurturing
your once marvelous display
the thought of you slowly wilting
has left me in dismay

*My theme is taken from Constance's Poem "in Memory of a rose"*

Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |
Does the sand have a memory?
Does it remember the tears it soaks?
The blood it seeps, the fingers clawing at it's form.

Will it mourn for me? Caress my hopes and dreams for me,
so that the next person whose foot kisses the sand will think of me.

May it be so...and my heart would live on forever in people's chests.

Copyright © Michael Benkhen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Romanticism |
The Autumn Rain
reminds me the feelings
that I didn’t express
The fresh air after rain
reminds me the moments
I wanted to live
The smell in the air
reminds me those moments when I used to meet you
and the wind takes them away
The yellow leaves
falling down on the streets
and I realize how
I’m loosing time, losing you
like the trees are losing the leaves
There will be new leaves on the trees
new people in your life
but the leaves on the streets will be forgotten, will be rotten

Just like me

– Spica

Copyright © Spica Toska | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |
Time Runs On Past Every Bend

Down new trail with purpose and gentle ease
chasing hope and new morn's glowing smile.
Flowing along with a sunrise breeze
heart stopping awe, every once in a while.

Branches overhead wrapped in deep forest green
bird songs filling this emerald isle.
Sun gracing the screaming sky blue sheen
above this leaf carpeted aisle.

Hoping time here never dares to end
as wanting heart finds its needed glow.
Yet find that time runs on past every bend
and brings Nature's all, along in tow.

Down new trail with purpose and gentle ease
spirit flows along with a sunrise breeze.

Robert J. Lindley, 7-05-2016

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |
In four days from today
I wish you well as you go, and you shall walk again
Through the shadow of the day
Where memory forever my spirit keep in chain
And you shall inhale once more
Jasmines naked and dancing to the silver moon
Or hear whispering for sure
The tides that salt us that unwrinkled June
And I shall be far away
Praying as I always pray, waiting your return
To mend broken gaps of day
While among the yellow leaves I walk and yearn

Do not forget me, dearest
Do not with moon or river wander far away
But on pillow of your breast
Give me my rest, give me my hope to play
For bird songs there I know rise
Like angels vestal choir, or sirens seductive song
May bring the heart new surprise
Against all witchery there, keep your love strong
Walk by lignum vitae bloom
Cradle the blue mountain misty morning shape
Tremble at its thunder boom 
And toss your cares across the bright sunlit landscape

There is healing in that place
A certain balm, and invigorating freedom there
An edible sense of grace
So delicious to those who walk with feet bare
Like children before the change
And yet for all the beauty and the music I keep
Another memory strange
The place where in my arms a princess fell asleep
The place where your kiss became
The elixir for which kings and heroes search and died
Where first the stag was made tame
No other beauty there may so my joy provide.

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
Golden soft was the light that swiftly flew,
As whistling rain pelted majestic oaks
And the soaked birds began to cry for you
As Nature silently wrapped up its cloaks

Thirsty for coming dawn, so bold and new.

Silver Maples fluttering in the wind,
Where the fast sleeping rabbits hid away
All beautiful, we wish  to never end
With brightened colors, every joyful day

As Nature's beauty flows out to transcend.

Life streamed quietly in the lands of peace
And the still waters kissed by skimming birds
Beneath a deep blue shade, it was a bliss
In such days, everything could spill our words

Joys forever, days sealed with heaven's kiss

Morning-tide, we would scent the wafting breeze
Coming from the trees swinging in the air
The deep valleys where waters did not cease
The silent streams, ran like poetic flair

Beneath nature's shades, and beauties of His

collaboration poetry: *Robert Lindley & Truefeeling*

Copyright © Lonely Shepherd | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

I heard a crackling 
                     fire, flashing  
                            like shooting stars. 

I heard a memory, exploding - 
shooting stars bursting forth 
in passion, beating through me
reminiscent, sparking thoughts 
of you in ebony night. 

Our love rekindled, 
soft words soothed in whispers,
aside dancing flames – 
             popping, sizzling, snapping. 
                      Dreams ablaze.

We, falling into wilderness,
embraced each touch, bare 
brush of flushed skin, 
kissing, smouldering trace of lips,
each pounding pulse of blood -  
our limbs entangled, 
           our ebb and flow, 
                crunching leaves 
                   under strokes of sound,
lost in a rush of fervent breath 
as winds whistled,  whirling  
through evening trees. 

I remember crickets chirping, 
sounding off in breezy sway of grasses flow -
a love song birthed timeless in the thin haze 
of a beautiful, summer night, 
and I remember sounds 
            of a rippling lake nearby,
               the hoot of a Great Horned Owl,
                   the faraway howl of a lone coyote,           
and dreams flicker in ruffled sounds of love birds, 
                        silent in song,
                            nestled above,
                                still creating music -
                                   a gentle, rhythm  
                                      asleep on rustling bough. 

We, enraptured, were fully aware
yet blissfully unaware of tender night 
playing a lover’s symphony all around –
a romantic serenade for two.
             On nights like this, I remember.   

Written 3/12/17 for Noise Contest

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme royal |

Mother Nature makes seasonal progress 
as cold autumnal winds crimson our cheeks,
grandiose trees shed umber morning dress
mackerel skies on fire behind mountain peaks 
reflected in slow running pumpkin creeks,
from long hot humid days to long dark nights
we will now enjoy all autumns delights,

sweet fresh smells in morning amber half light
farmers harvesting cinnamon ripe wheat
migrating birds gather to take long flight,
summer, winter, is autumn bittersweet,
ginger tinged petals of sweet marguerite 
bathed in bright glorious saffron sunlight, 
autumn brings new beginnings and pleasure 
beautiful sights, memories we treasure.

Composed 2nd October 2017.
Contest Autumn rhyme royal.
sponsored by Dale Gregory Cozart.

Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |
Ordinary…yet precious moments That adhere ardently To one’s heart Points in time that Without reason or rhyme Become outstanding… and stand apart A trio of quarrelsome hummingbirds Outside of one’s window Tentative, timid… first flakes of snow Playful puppies fighting over toys Prickly Hummers and puppies alike Naught but bickersome boys Just an ordinary moment, in an ordinary day ordinary ol’ man and his ordinary wife An ordinary daughter, an ordinary life This ordinary day…becomes a memory And in turn becomes extraordinary By some strange happenstance A happy memory of Hummingbirds And puppies and daughter’s pleasant company ..and snowflakes that dance…

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
Patches of snow sprinkled on the leaves
Lay on the hill climbed many times
And I wonder how many scenes
Have been kept safely in memory
Through seasons of visions and thoughts
Whether it be with chill or with warmth

Bare trees revealing the sky’s beauty
Opening up the distant views
Or trees in full bloom with close up color
Later fallen like paper under the snow
In rotation of scenes captured
On the hill that has quietly frozen

As if sleeping, waiting to be seen and heard
In the slow dripping, melting of spring
In this wonder of momentary silence
Except for the crackling of leaves,
I remember in a cold breath of fresh air
How winter begins, on the hill

Heidi Sands



Copyright © Heidi Sands | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |
An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.

Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.

On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.

Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.

March, 7th, 2014

Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |
Oh how I wish
I could set free
the native American Indian
with pride and dignity
taking them back
across the great open plains
to their sacred home
in the lush green vallies
where buffalo are plentiful
and roam
so the Indians can live in peace
one with nature once more
where the eagles soar
setting them free as the wind
wild untameable as a magnificent stallion
running toward the setting sun.

Peter Dome.copyright.2012.

Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
A peaceful place where memories linger,
     linger through the grasses upon soft winds,
          winds that carry the nightingale as she sings,
                  sings a lullaby to the passed at restful sleep.

*Not an entry for Nette's contest, but it was inspired by visual #3 (cemetery)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
Everyone thinks they know that girl. At 
least they think they do. 
You know that girl that makes everyone 
laugh, and is a class clown. Who used 
to be a star athlete. And had everything 
going for her.
Yeah that girl that everyone thinks they 
She became homeless at the age of 16 
due to a house fire.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
Yet that girl is still laughing away and 
making everyone laugh, but isn't the 
same inside, No, Something inside of 
her changed they way she felt.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She became mentally ill, she was 
diagnosed with major depression and 
bipolar disorder. She was always under 
medication, so you never knew what 
side of her you where going to get.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
No one knew how much she hated 
hearing sirens go off, or how she 
couldn't stand seeing fire trucks. She 
struggled living her life daily.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She lost her closes friends cause she 
shut them out and nearly lost them all.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
From what I hear it's been 3 years 
since the fire and that girl is barely 
getting her sight of her future back.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She is talking to her lost friends again, 
but just isn't the same for her, so she 
has to make new ones. Which means 
she has no one.
Yeah that girl everyone thinks they 
She is happier now and is looking 
forward to graduating and moving on 
from this chapter of her life and letting 
How do I know so much of her?, well 
"that girl" is me.Yeah that girl that 
everyone thought they knew. 
But im fine now. Sure I have my 
downfalls, but I still get up and smile. 

Copyright © Laura La Quay | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
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

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

I went back recently to the park of my childhood,
      Where I once sat on a worn old bench with my father . . .

           And as I walked the winding path I saw the old bench,
                 Down by the flowing river and I caressed the wood and wept;

             Stroking all the beautiful flaws, it whispered to me of memories,
                  And I was taken back to another time when I had felt the warmth;

                       I rested on the bench fingering the worn surface with love,
                             Wondering how many have caressed this old wood, weeping.

August 29, 2015

Written by Broken Wings

For the contest, Sense of Touch, sponsor, Nette Onclaud

Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Pantoum |
Over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew,
night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter.

Night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
and it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter,
we pondered the new distant was the sunrise.

And it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise
as a memory which can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
we pondered the new distant was the sunrise;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon.

As a memory that can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon...
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness.  

Our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness...
over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
In a zoo in a strange land
a zebra stands 
flaunting the bright stripes
 of a collective band 
against the russett tussle of leaves
 that exit trees before a cold wind.

He is far  from the windswept plain
of his dreams; that parched place
where drought adapted trees wane,
 until at last renewed by rain,
an over-night fantasy of growth
 glides greenly,
quicker than evening-tide.

Here, where Autumn has a strange glow,
bare trees, steal the dapple from his coat. 
Knee deep in a pile of red leaves
he yields the life blood of his soul,
flowing from a freedom remembered


Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |
Return from cold trails
to find a crackling warm fire
and freshly grilled trout.

Copyright © Kayleen Ashwood | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Temperature dip
urban leaves turned
Autumn, sniffing around
for a place to settle
no Farmer's Market
in San Francisco today.

Copyright © Jen Franks | Year Posted 2013