Best Naturedance Poems
A harvest breeze invites the leaves
to shimmy on the tree.
In haunting song she sighs and grieves
as on her breath they flee.
They dance and twirl away from her,
sweet fragrance lingers where they were,
they dance and twirl,
they dance and twirl
toward the twilight of the year.
A gentle moonlight bathes the leaves
that lie upon the ground.
Her magic with them interweaves
in midnight’s silent sound.
They turn to gold from jaded green
beneath the moon’s cool waxen sheen,
they turn to gold,
they turn to gold,
and gild a graceful autumn scene.
A winter wind disturbs the leaves
as they so soundly sleep.
The tree’s loss, so the wind believes,
gives him the right to reap.
He whips them up and whispers low
that all the golden leaves must go,
he whips them up,
he whips them up
to clear the way for soft white snow.
Reclining within spring's bouquet
she thought,” Please stay, don't rush away,
I so enjoy, these blooms of May."
This maiden who boldly proclaimed
wished only for sweet azure sky
upon which white clouds could be framed
without knowing the reasons why.
Yet, deep within, a darkness grew
like London fog, it changed her view
and left her plea cast all askew.
With every cloud, she graced with smiles
a dozen more would turn to grey
and through these hues she witnessed trials
as heaven wept for man's dismay.
No matter what the sky would bring
to make this world alive and sing,
she felt the pain from mankind’s sting.
She knew this venom slowly killed,
just like the years traveled from birth,
each space, a wound shadows had filled
in every corner of her earth.
But then a spark! A thought divine!
a revelation that might shine,
to help her break apathy’s spine.
She shouted truth, for so long slurred;
that man was more than part-time king
and he could change what was inferred,
so she would see, a better spring.
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A Double Sarabande Sonnet
Specs:
The Sarabande was a dance of Persian origin introduced into Spain in the 16th century.
The poem follows the movements of the dance with its change of stanza form
to comply with the measures of the music. As a “sonnet” it has:
14 lines
Four stanzas
Stanza 1 a tercet, rhyme axa or aaa
Stanza 2 a quatrain, any quatrain form or rhyme
The stanza forms may be mixed
English: abab or abcb
Italian: baab
Spanish: bcbc
French: bbcc
Stanza 3 a tercet, same tercet form as stanza 1
a sonnet with a French tercet requires
line 2 of both tercets to rhyme.
Stanza 4 a quatrain, any quatrain form and
rhyme
Any metrical foot
Any metrical line
Some authorities insist on eight syllables
but this is not cut and dried
Rhyme scheme: depends on the form chosen.
The volta the first line of the second tercet.
Sitting alone on a park bench surrounded by a natural beauty that only I can appreciate at
this moment in time. Oh, there are occasional intruders in this beautiful place, a few
joggers with their MP3’s hanging from their ears, lost in a world of music and running on
automatic pilot. They pass through this wonderland in a flash and miss the performance
only a sojourner like me perceives: The shifting breeze that blows through the surrounding
trees. I watch them slow-dance to a score that was written on the wind and only they can
hear the composition they dance to.
A long-eared rodent enters the green dance floor and does his version of the bunny hop,
stops to see if anyone is watching and continues his dance unabated.
A chorus of unseen red-breast thrushes singing their familiar early morning rendition of
“It’s a beautiful morning” while two male cardinals fly by warbling their version.
A house sparrow alight the bench and looked at me and cocked its head left, and then
right, As if to say, what are you doing here? then flies off into the trees behind me.
A squirrel scampers onto the scene and becomes aware of my presence and decides to head
back whence it came. Taking that cue, I realized that I had overstayed my visit and it was
time to leave.
“Natural Beauty”
Now playing, Act one, scene one
One brief performance
As the wind briefed the shrubs
To heel by its course
The wobbled shrubs then whispered
To be gentle by it’s arouse
The wind then tamed by the virtue of verity
For the shrubs to dance freely
The bopping shrubs then exclaimed
To bestow with clouds and dance monarchally
The wind then questioned –
Monarchally?
The sun that appeared brightly
Is actually taking away the greenery.
The thirsty shrubs then insisted
The wind to be kind
To come along with the clouds
To pour upon them heavily.
As the wind then decided
To play by its mollifies
It conferred with the vapors
And asked the sky
To evince its outrages with cumulonimbus
And fall upon the earth over the shrubs
To meet their thirst
And respire along with the wind
To heel by its course.
The fresh aroma of the earth
That breathed by the rain
Few drops glinted upon the garden
And the grasses sprinkled by the free rein.
How living is the blue-green grass
Each blade tingles when the sky exhales
Clouds, white and gray confront another for agreements
Rain falls as they cheerfully dance and drink
Each blade tingles when the sky exhales
Waves of decisions are being blown as the fields await an answer
Rain falls as they cheerfully dance and drink
Absorbing and enduring, not to fool necessity with greed
Waves of decisions are being blown as the fields await an answer
Clouds, white and gray confront another for agreements
Absorbing and enduring, not to fool necessity with greed
How living is the blue-green grass?
You dance in colours
Your dance is the dance of nature
Your beauty is like converging wings in contours
And succulent nectar you slowly nurture.
The bees come
Humming their persistent greeting
The butterflies come
Converging in sucking meeting –
Like young lovers
Into your secret bed their fangs nuzzle
Yet these lovers
Because of your nature did puzzle.
Gentle rose
Why did mighty nature
Hold you up to ridicule?
Blooming rose
Why did brave nature
Create your riddle?
That when beauty is the ripest
Then becomes beauty the saddest!
That when life is the sweetest
Then becomes life the shortest!
A rumble in the distance
Growing, radiating power
The strong taste on the wind
Crisp and sweet
The heavens open, pouring
down
Tears of happiness and relief
A soothing rhythm
Familiar and comforting
Like a whispered lullaby
Or a pulsing heart beat
A song only I can hear
Ringing in my ears
A steady beat on the pavement
A simple dance with simple
steps
I lift up my face
To catch them as they fall
The cool touch on my skin
Drowning out the world
Letting go and just forgetting
As the sky falls around me
I am free
To dance in the storm
Take a long look
throught the looking glass
see how the land you have known
has changed
Shadows
which blocked
the sunlight
are now blown by
the west wind
Warmth
returns to the land,
to the fields,the forests,
the towns
Yet the bitter winds
have left their mark on all of us
Can spring
revive us?
Will the shoots that
rise up through
the verdant earth
renew us?
Creatures of nature
that we are
We need to know
that once again
beautous flowers - a riot
of glorious
colors
Will grace our
fields, forests and
towns!
After the harshest winter
spring always returns
to dance her dance
before our delighted eyes