Best Natural History Poems


Carmen Lucia Ruby

Peter loved his wife Carmen Lúcia
                             Their love 's color was tranquil fuchsia 
                                 Their love took shape in Mogok
                                    In depth of the Mother rock
                                     Big red ruby-poem of Gaia










HISTORY
The Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. has received one of the world's largest and finest ruby gemstones. The 23.1 carats (4.62 g) Burmese ruby, set in a platinum ring with diamonds, was donated by businessman and philanthropist Peter Buck in memory of his late wife Carmen Lúcia. This gemstone displays a richly saturated red color combined with an exceptional transparency. The finely proportioned cut provides vivid red reflections. The stone was mined from the Mogok region of Burma (now Myanmar) in the 1930s.




Precious Stones and Gems - Poetry Contest 
Sponsor:Anthony Slausen
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
Form: Limerick
Theme: Love, Ruby, Precious stone

Indian Rock - and How It Was Taken

INDIAN ROCK - AND HOW IT WAS TAKEN

They came to the hills with intent,
Offering worship and praise as they went.
The rock with two hands
On my grandparent’s lands
Held a mystical song, most reverent.

One year the museum man came
From a place with a big, fancy name;
He ordered the stone
To find a new home,
So east went the rock with acclaim.

My Grandma, both worried and stirred;
To the people, she couldn’t send word.
In the spring they appeared
Holding gifts as they neared,
‘Imminent Domain’ a term they’d never heard.

That summer, when she heard their soft knock,
She told them how she tried to block,
But the men most insistent,
And oh, most persistent
Served papers to take charge of the rock.

Now the rock sits away from the sun;
Children gaze at the hands, but no one
Kneels before it in praise
Feeling summer’s full rays,
Giving thanks for all that God’s done.



[This is a true story.  In the early 1970’s, a rock of pink granite, with two carved hands facing 
the rising sun, was removed from my grandparent’s pasture by people from the Museum of 
Natural History.  It was to be part of an exhibit on Indian Culture.  And yes, they had papers.  
Grandma cried the following summer when the people appeared on the day before summer 
solstice.  She cried when she told them of the rock’s removal.  They did not cry.  They held 
out gifts, insisting Grandma accept.  Then they left.  They did not return again.]
© Deb Radke  Create an image from this poem.

The Bunny and the Dinosaur

Once upon a time a little bunny was grazing
Totally innocent that something amazing
Was about to happen in an interesting way
As she was eating in the field that day

As you all must know and are very aware
That a bunny is tiny just from being a hare
Dinosaurs are old and of a mammoth size
Them being friends one can hardly surmise

Imagine this bunny with her long pretty ears
Meeting a dino of a million years
Him a Kentrosaurus with a big long tail
Her a rabbit and so delicately frail

One noticed the other eating clover too
So dino said to her how do you do
I am a dino and what is your name
Lets dine together for we eat the same

This bunny was cute and dino was shy
He liked her a lot but didn’t say why
This dino so big and terribly tall
This rabbit so cute and terribly small

One day it rained was a really big storm
He kept her dry and that kept her warm 
So they became closer day after day
They wanted it always to be that way

Then one bright and sunny morning
Came some men without any warning
And they said this old dinosaur 
Escaped out through our back door

In case you think that’s a mystery
Was the museum of natural history
So this is the end, the story is through 
Could be more funny if it were true


Premium Member Lifting the Fog

Little crystals fallen angel tears smooching ground;
Instills cooling touch among grasses, buds and trees;
Facets rolling ambiguity ~ mystery;
Twirls then twines closely rush on branches bounds;
Inches white eerie cloud rhymes hang rest at key;
Nailing anyone to see natural history;
Garden fog silence~ conceals even tricks;

Tinge golden yellow linear streaks thread through
Hovering to break fogs' gloomy cold mood
Enchantment subsides, enlightening arise!

Fog succumbs ~ gradually disappears from view
Orchards' quiet green scenery renewed
Greets my cheeks breezy soft so prize...


(c)Olive Eloisa
6:29pm
July 06,2014

CONTEST NAME: 1 in 4 CHOOSE YOUR ACROSTIC TITLE
SPONSOR: ANDREA DIETRICH
8th place, to God be the glory..:)

Premium Member Ridgeway Rambles

Avebury a Wiltshire village low
To windswept beacon of Ivinghoe.
Eighty-five miles,vale and hill
Wayfare freedoms,exhilarate and thrill.

Striding downs in grassy scrub
Midst trees and clumps of shrub;
Shaded lanes,gates and stiles,
Wayside pubs to rest awhile.

Overton to Wantage plain
Goring and Streatly in the rain;
Chinnor to Bledlow,in freezing chill,
To Buckmoor,Chequers and Coombe Hill.

Wendover to Hastoe through morning dew
Wigginton,Albury onto Beacon view;
Natural history and species now rare,
Time to idle or just stand and stare.

Haiku -A Natural History - Anthology

HAIKU
~~~~~~~

sun... moon... stars,., sky
sea... land...  flora... fauna... earth
endangered wonders

~~

ere the void...
would life on earth endure
galaxies thunder...

~~

are cataracts why
humans cannot see nature...
there is a cure...

~~

look at the night sky
all ancient history
sunlight 9 mins away

~~

bonkers... all bonkers...
rap it... hip hop it... live it...
life... dance while you can...

~~

dark clouds darkened... why...
their own shadow dims their white
lay lines guide birds flight

~~

a twinkle
the robin's eye's again hoping
you put some food out

~~

facts of nature
are the true facts of all life
start making babies

~~

snow... its beauty
belies the fact it's dangerous
don't let your mind drift


Death's Dark Divide

No one saw the bear until it was too late;
A reminder of death's dark divide.
This vicious predator hungry and mean;
Death lurking in the shadows of the mysterious, opaque moon.
A monolith of darkness, wherein pride doth reside,
It's eyes bespoke the evil it harbored within.
A fiend from the far reaches of the beyond,
Locked in the dark recesses of its cavernous crypt.
By any stretch the most gruesome specter in our grim milieu;
We fought our emotions to maintain self-control.
A vindictive beast obviously intent on an ominous quest,
A prelude to the darkness to befall us this night.
And, were it not for the fortunate opening of the automatic blinds,
Emitting the most amazing light from the most delightful new day,
An annoying and horrific ogre in the big oval room,
Would have seen our destiny altered, in a far different way,
And evidenced something more sinister than our victorious retreat.
Yet the Natural History Institute, still is our pride,
And yes, even though we were all frightened, by this awful imagined specter,
We'll forever patronize our favorite museum,
Finding that now, we preside at the locked exit doors,
We'll wait for the opening by the guard, go home and get 
some much needed rest.

Life of An Oversoul

The natural history of some has never been written,                        We’re but a stream whose source is hidden 
The most exact calculator has no prescience, 
Our being is descending into us from we know not whence. 

I’m many a times moody and wildly wise, 
pursuing daring games with joyful eyes, 
which chose, like meteors, their way 
And rived the dark with private ray: 

I am owner of my private atmosphere, 
of the ample tears shed in a year, 
of pupil’s hand, and oracle’s brain, 
of Lord Christ heart, and prophet’s strain. 

I am one found overleapting the horizon’s edge, 
searching with host’s privilege; 
through man, woman, sea, and star, 
Glancing the dance of nature forward far; 
Through demensions, races, terms, and times, 
Beholding melodical order, and juxtaposing rhymes. 

I’m one treading fountain-heads and pathless groves, 
Spaces which pale passion loves, 
Starlight walks, when all the fowls 
Are safely sheltered, save bats and owls, 
A midnight bell, a passing groan, 
Such are the sounds I feed upon.

40 Degrees West Nor West

sunrise charcoal silhouettes
ember warmth
forty degrees west nor west

Premium Member Dc

DC


On the banks of the Potomac
Where the cherry blossoms grow
Stands our nation's capital
With monuments all in a row

The laws that make us a great nation
Are decided in its halls
The names of those who died for our country
Are emblazoned on Memorial Walls

Steeped in natural history
Envied by the world
Filled with pride and patriotism
Whenever the flag is unfurled

She was burned down by the British
But from the ashes she rose
Like the mythological Phoenix
Or so the story goes

Though laden with corruption
Filled with lust and greed
She's still a symbol of freedom
For every nation's seed

She stands as a sign to many
Who chase the American Dream
The great land of opportunity
Where freedom casts its gleam

And so its history tells us
Of those who freely gave
The ultimate sacrifice to keep us
The land of the free and the home of the brave


	Curtis Moorman
	9 February 2008

Premium Member Vignette-On the Strand

She sells seashells on the sea shore
For in Lyme Regis she did explore-
Poor Mary's childhood hobby
This lass of tongue-twister fame
A fossil-finder,now of much acclaim.

Mary Anning (1799-1846) a carpenter's daughter,self-educated,but now hailed as the 
greatest fossil hunter ever known according to the Natural History Museum London

Skullduggery

"At Skullduggery our aim is to make this fossil history available to everyone"
said the curator of a very prestigious wax museum, built in nineteen forty one 
all of our replicas are cast from original pieces obtained from other museums
such as the Paris crystal skull, which is hidden in Paris behind the mausoleum
it was used in the action movie  " Indiana Jones Kingdom of the Crystal skull" 

I thought of my live Uncle Harrison Ford who is now seventy nine years old 
how he dug for diamonds, dug for treasures and he always dug for gold  
"the skull here as you can see, is a veritable nerdgasm, a craniophile beauty"
said the curator, as I  thought of Georges Cuvier curator at Natural History
he studied Egyptian human skulls, owned a cabinet of skulls of aging glory

Some museums contain hominid skulls, replicas of apes and extinct ancestors
some own dry rattle bones from a distant era belonging to ancient dinosaurs 
We at skulldugery aim to reproduce some of the finest looking skulls around 
He took me into an old dusty cavern "shush" he whispers "don't make a sound" 
"they are very sensitive to noise and they always know, when we're around . 

October 14, 2021 
Contest Name: Pick-A-Title, Vol 26 ( chose #2) Skullduggery
Sponsor Name: Edward Ibeh

Naani Example

Naani
~~~~~~~~~

A naturalist
Commends natural history
The only way of life
Make her your second wife

Premium Member Welcome To Chicago

Welcome to Chicago!
Where women march like soldiers 
in their tennis shoes, wearing their stuffy suits

Welcome to the windy city.
The women dare not wear full skirts.
Their high heels are in their desk drawer

Welcome to the Magnificent Mile 
These women’s children are in the suburbs
With babysitters who do not love them.

Welcome to Chicago! 
Tired women march out of the train station
holding a handbag or a lunch box, maybe both

Welcome to the Field Museum of Natural History
A place they could bring their children on weekends
But do not want to, because they do not want to come back.

Natural History

Are faeries really there?
And will they pull your hair
When you walk near?

Indeed they really will, 
They’ll trip you-make you spill-
Then give a cheer…
And disappear.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.

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