Best Forest Poems
"What happens in the forest stays in the forest"
The trees are trimmed,
The leaves on the ground
Proposing passion, sweet mist
Naked with nothing to bare or wear
Nature's breath lightens the atmosphere
She breathes in, he breathes out
The auditory sensation of rain
- drums down and deepens
The course is near its end,
Deep in this forest night
A Gentleman among the trees,
Hibernating new seeds
"On the other side of the forest"
He guides a path, with ebony eyes
A convincing vent, I accept
The fear is broken, I sleep in glee
The whispers disappear
Drying in peace by the secret bayou
Broad leaves lay under raw landscape
Lulled by the chills he quills
A quarter past midnight
Mr Romantic
- prepares the new sheets of Winter.
11-11-15
~*~
The woods were silent except for the shifting
soft sounds of his hooves as they fell upon
the forest floor. There he stood amid the mist in
his white majestic coat calling to me to come
to him and ride upon his back, vanish with him,
(as the sun lay dying into quiet shades of twilight)
into an unknown sacred secret realm where no
one's footsteps could follow.
I stroked his soft warm velvet nose and felt the
subtle flair of his nostrils breath on my hand.
When I climbed upon his back we rode
as one as our love and trust in each other
had slowly grown into a synergy unsurpassed.
Moonlight filtered through the verdant trees
as darkness enveloped the starry sky.
Suddenly we found ourselves in a glade
where we were surrounded by the soft glow
of tiny faeries as numerous as fireflies.
We were warmly welcomed into their sacred
sanctuary and I felt enchanted by their sylvan
beauty as two tiny faeries braided long strands
of my golden hair, intertwining fragrant flowers.
I was asked if I would help to keep the forest
safe from clear cutting, and I promised I would.
I awoke to the faint sound of hoofbeats as dawn
was rising and there were pretty flowers in my hair.
12-25-18
© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day April 4, 2016
Stay - One more golden morning –
Linger - One more silver night –
Abide tiny child born of my desire
To encourage a new life;
Watch with me the amber moon
Peek through moonbeams rising up so large
We could touch it's creamsicle face -
Sleep caressed within the shelter of soft umber leaves,
Preparing for their final journey,
To sing a last duet with you,
This last autumnal aria, no more with choruses, just two thin voices
To a harp song strummed through my oaken limbs;
Now see the changing cloud ships
Gather - carrying cargoes full of rain -
To scuttle ‘cross the sunrise
When breezes turn from summer zephyrs
To blustery torrents, tinted with icy dew;
As you sail away, soaring on their roller coaster wings,
I leave a kiss upon your face in sunlight that taught your heart to beat –
Watching with a blessing on my lips -
My empty arms still remembering your round, smooth face -
As you ride the vagabond winds
Following their air-born trails to find your place
Where you nestle deep within a warm and richly decorated nursery –
A birthing place –
For when you labor I stand a silent sentinel alongside ancient family,
A vigil as the silent snows blanket your dreams of mighty forest oak -
To wake in seasonal celebration
When, re-formed, your first leaves appear;
No farewell now only adieu, my little one, until we meet again.
among green foliage and slender twigs, perched a graceful mellifluous Nightingale.
Chickadees, Robins, Orioles stopped their synchronised cadence of rhythmic tweets, in anticipation..
a tranquil silence fell in the forest, a quiet trance around...
tall majestic trees stopped swaying their aspiring branches,
plants and shrubs and bushes softly emanated saffron scent,
rustling fragrant breeze whispered lilac mystery,
chartreuse clouds stooped and gently touched the treetops,
tangerine twilight moon flickered ribbons of love,
ravishing flowers opened their petite petals blazing red blush in awe!
Nightingale sang the most melodious song, sprinkling amber passion,
It sang a symphony pouring its heart, weaving
the story of eternal love and loss,
mesmerizing the audience with lavender dreams and hopes
a dazed forest stood still ...
All hushed !
Written May 6, 2021
POTW May 9, 2021
All Yours - June 22, 2021 -Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
No end where love's found
no beginning, though there must've been
I can't recall, seems it was always there
going on and on..
No life better known, restless like the forest
hearts awaken at new sight and sound
teasing I see, so pleasing..
two corners lifting at your mouth.
You can go on now, find me..
the place you always knew
waiting, silent as a stone
body and soul lost to you.
A place with no beginning
no tomorrows, nor sorrows
we'll leave them at the gate.
Oh my love, I can't breathe,
can hardly bear the wait.
Oh, the forest whispers to me,
as stained leaves on the ground crinkle;
and birds chirp and trill in a tree,
but too soon those leaves will wrinkle.
As I walk the wind groans and moans,
oh, the forest whispers to me;
soon the branches will be bare bones,
the crows cawing is like a plea.
Squirrels chirrup running with glee,
through the leaves that swirl, twirl and dance;
oh, the forest whispers to me,
the beauty puts me in a trance.
A stream that gurgles and thunders,
and ducks still quack and float carefree;
so many sweet scenes and wonders,
oh, the forest whispers to me.
_______________________
October 16, 2021
Poetry/Quatern/ The Stained Glass Forest
Copyright Protected, ID-10-1397-695-16
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Onomatopoeia
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 11/13/2021
Fourth Place
Poem of the Day October 18, 2021
A harsh wind bites.
The signals are there for those
who understand; those who can
read the fauna and flora like a map.
Navigating through the forest…
through life.
Acorns are being stored under a
red carpet.
Shards of light pierce through
deciduous windows.
Evergreens wrap themselves
in a nice warm coat.
The snow arrives on iridescent
wings, stretching it’s arms and
cloaking all in sight.
A silence creeps in, it’s heart
slows to a single beat of a
dying honey bee…
© 7/12/2014
Cathedral woods.
Sunlight streams
through stained glass windows—
mosaic of yellow and red.
Tree pillars
hold up the sky dome,
wind organ whispers.
Orange and crimson,
sassafras and sumac
light the path.
On the altar in my heart
the chalice
overflows.
"We are on a journey and all the answers we seek,
are whispered without words."
Quote by- Constance
have your feet ever taken you
down a forest path
a place of quietness where a thousands birds sing
like a symphony meant just for you ...
the foliage lush green
dripping trembling
and you hear water flowing peacefully
you are totally alone
separated from the turmoil of life
at peace, serene and tranquil and in the moment
I have ...
the drums of time have ceased
and my fragile soul is a sea of tears
scars are bleeding, bleeding, bleeding ....
wind whispers my name
and caresses me like a lover
I must let go of my history !
the many twisted passages and contrived corridors
the waves of regret like daggers
but, putting my thoughts aside for now
I wander ...
a sparkling stream musical rocks decayed with years
sitting on one I meditate
breathing in and out I let go of this reality ...
becoming a bird flying, gliding, drifting
my soul free I float on the wind swirling away
God tells me to let go of my past history
that he loves me as I am-
Buddha tells me to live in the moment
as life is short I wake suddenly-
was I sleeping ? the sun is now fading
the air around me is saturated with my prayers
and dreams the trees infinite sentinels
a cool breeze kisses my lips as
I leave ...
A Trek Into A Forest Wonderfully Deep,
(New Dawn- Second Battle, Part Two)
This vista, newfound view image of divine scene
fertile virgin ground, pretty as a peacock's preen
born of inked splashes, and poet's bleeding blood
flow from deep gashes, paints virgin soil as red-mud.
Nature's true beauty sent to poet's beating heart
illuminated glory at dawn's gifted start
gurgling brook, waters racing into crystal clear lake
sad weeping soul inhales, as much as one can take.
Morning trek, my how such a change the mind renews
once a train wreck, now healing beneath sky blue
All aghast, miracle that comes as divine gift
life changing wonders sent so fast, sent to uplift.
This vista, newfound view image of divine scene.
Fertile virgin ground, pretty as a peacock's preen.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-19-2019
Sonnet, ( The Second Battle-- Part Two)
Note: I rose from bed early. By 6 am I was 8 miles away,
walking into the deep woods. Therapy for a soul that was
in deep blues, seeking an answer to how to fight this dark
and its beasts that it so uses. Mother Nature spoke, saying-
to poet soldier, this such savages can never truly see. Watch
as I gift you such deeper sight. As I saw images that I never
had seen before. I realized, my deep blues were trivial and
a temporary lapse on my part. As once I knew we mortals
too oft fall pray to the destructive voices of the minions of
darkness and its infinitely wicked rage. Arriving home,
mere minutes later sipping hot coffee on my front porch.
Nature spoke from my front yard as a squirrel climbed down
from an oak tree fifteen feet away-- looked at me and chattered
away for about three minutes! Then I understood, too oft we
forget to fight! Coffee drank, into my den , my sword ,sharpened
anew. This the second battle commenced and ink splashed to defeat
an enemy that never ever sleeps, and never ever gives any mercy
to its foes... And so the cycle continues.......
True grace I hear the songs within her heart
Her hidden life, the secret
Glow from butterfly wings
- My first Kimo :) .... 16.02.2015
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The night like clouded charcoal scorched,
A sea of trees with starlight torched.
A night where laws are sound asleep,
Anarchic prayers running deep.
Alone I hear the wretched screams
Of screeching trees... or so it seems.
The cries protract into the air,
Without a sound they disappear.
The shrieks have bartered now anew
With sounds of meat and boney chew
Discharging from the faithless trees
And snarling with my memories.
But creatures' gruesome growlings drown.
I smell the gunpowder and frown.
The waging sounds of war advance
In battle stance with gun and lance.
The sounds of bleeding men enhanced,
The sounds of fate and time and chance,
No sooner do they cross the trees
Than fade as all their voices freeze.
But worse than bombshell sounds occur;
The storms, the winds, the thunder stirs.
The roars that shake the forest's roots,
The flowers, soil, and passion fruits
A rainy resonance restocks
The grass the air the woods the rocks
And washes with its dancing tingle
All the sounds that intermingle:
A dreaming forest in the night,
And trapped within its fanfare fright,
It chokes me in its thunder thrill
And hangs me in the silence still,
And hangs me in the silence still.
Where conifers gaily waltz tempos evergreen
Unspoiled by human deeds, pure, and pristine,
Eagles soar there, spanning freedom wings
And trees gently whisper to rhythmic bird trills
Echoing grey owls, blue jays, robins, crossbills,
Hopping, jumping, circling, frolicking in breeze
Reveling with hatchlings, feeding on berries
As sun rays filtering-in on wildflowers glow
Oscillating shadows in gusting, windy, woes
Amidst bears’ huffs, woofs, raging ugly growl
When raccoons coyly snarl at foxes’ feral-howl
Hiding from pitter-patter of tropical rainfall
In heavenly paradise as birdsongs toll daylong
Serenading the land where liberty is paramount
In forest of my dreams’ blossoming sanctuary~
A temple, a hideaway, a refuge, an ecosystem,
A reserve for humanity, a shrine for sanctity,
In equilibrium, edifying calmness and peace
Where elixir of sacred life flows in holy streams
Sustaining earth’s renewal in tranquil harmony.
April 17, 2021
Placed 3rd: In the forest of my dreams premium contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Placed 1st: All yours (Apr 24) contest
As early dawns sunlight, of golden glass....
Now drips from the ambient forest of green
Showers of light reflected, from across the pond
Gazing amid the cabins threshold; these love laced thoughts
A nightingale lingering; singing atop the windows ledge
Faraway whispers, from the preludings winds of time....
Ushering these images, beyond the corridores of ones soul
Still waters resurgent; resplendent, upon the silverish blue
Alluvions resillence, painted in criterion before my eyes
Lavishly renewed colours, brushed gently this heart of mine....
Fireflies and butterflies, floating through the turquoise sky
Melodies atop this brilliant canvas', carousels of life ~
But, as the pendulums gravities of truth sway inside my mind
I find myself within a fortitude of ponder; fortified
By the realization that not all is fairytales and or, ice cream rides....
Pestilence of plights befalling millions and who's wrong or right?
Thus in the referendum of self, one must choose and decide
The ways of justice, balanced upon the scales of conscious
Betwixt the pabulums dividing lines of love and hate?
And a poet writes....
Peering across the pond unto the other side
Beautiful faces beautiful eyes, beautiful hearts and beautiful lives
Red Robins sing and White Swans they fly ~
Embracing them all; this knowing; these treasures inside!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The forest green....
One deep forest day
God looked down where snowfall lay.
Rainbows plucked from sky
He unbent. Then through dark trees. . .
spears of radiance God sent.
For Carolyn Devonshire's
Forest Lights Poetry Contest