Best Naturelife Poems
Dandelions, daisies and golden buttercups
Carpet the fields, below a tree they look up
This colossus of wood with arms so spread
Capturing the sunlight, photosynthesis fed
Its reach out for life to the heavenly skies
Another marvel of nature in her portfolio surprise
The plough of the farmer and his sowing of the seeds
Turns this bright carpet to soil to feed our needs
When we have harvested the sown, and reaped natures rewards
The soil of life allows the carpet restored
Dandelions, daisies and golden buttercups
Like the colossus of wood, its their right to look up
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-8.php
Rain - her story is in her forms
past, present or future, same are norms
Rain – she has a complaint
dislikes being quoted as she (Rain) is FALLING
but had she not fallen
seeds would not have risen
land would have been brazen
Life would have become extinct
such is her importance, so distinct
Rain – she has a compliment
she is loved by all – kids, young, old alike
kids joyous over floating of paper boats
young ecstatic in love over drizzle drumming pane
old ambling in memory lane over hot coffee
raindrops filling Life's ocean with cheerful moments
joy waves kissing Life's shores with each movement
Rain – she is Liquid Devil
water, in excess gushing monstrously
tsunami causing devastation
consuming life all of sudden
destroying flora & fauna
receding water spreading epidemics
drenched havoc failing normalcy academics
Rain – she is Liquid Angel
water, life to all – human, animal, trees
in womb protecting embryo
in tomb blending concrete mix
generating electricity, axis of all motion
offering hope to desert through oasis
frozen at Poles averting earth's nemesis
Rain - her story is in her forms
past, present or future, same are norms
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By Hitendra Mehta
Honorable Mention - Members Contest - "Rain, The Story " by - A Rambling Poet
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Billowing, foamy currents
Lofty, turquoise drifts
Undulate as waves
Rage through the calm of heaven
As the golden stalks
Bend in fields below
Like hungry fire consuming
All life in its path
Seemingly engulfed
The cypresses are the same;
Ensnared in the grip
Of restless fury
By the skyward, emerald flame
Would Vincent approve
Of his brilliant work
Being perceived violently?
I am oft' amazed
How a piece of art
Takes on a life of its own
Interpretation
Lives within the heart
And soul of the beholder
Not merely the eye
Vincent Van Gogh's painting, "Yellow Wheat and Cypresses" was my inspiration.
For submission in Abe Lopez' contest, "Van Gogh's Van Goghs".
Just east of here, in shallow prairie pools
In secret, lives a fleeting little world
Late rains caught in impenetrable clay
Host a brilliant and vanishing bloom
Tiny flowers erupt, golden bursts of color
Fairy shrimp spring from dormant cells
Ephemeral life short lived but vibrant
For those that seek, a precious find
Frequented by birds and little mammals
These small habitats are quickly fading
Another picture of precious life interrupted
Perhaps soon found only in memories.
World, Creations of the creator
Origin of life, unknown till now
Life, the soul which keeps us move on and on...
Life, Not for granted to humans
But, for every single form of life
From the primitive to the most advanced;
Life the throb that to be protected
Forever and ever..
Chain that should be continued
Forever and ever..
Indeed, the protection of every life form
The wild life, the one tats most affected!
Essential for the prosperity of life
Wild ones deep in to the hole of Extinction
Ring of protection around them
For the life in world to continue...
A fallen leaf upon the ground ,
Discarded by its mother.
No longer having any use ,
Pushed aside for another .
A simple life as it was ,
Spawned in early spring .
Bursting forth in happiness
Shading birds as they sing .
From cool nights and mornings ,
To scorching hot summer days .
It spent its life on a limb ,
Pleasing to a passing gaze .
Yet its time was quite short ,
Dispatched by a winter breeze .
It joined its siblings in the air ,
Scattered amongst the trees .
Though left to pass all alone ,
Its existence fading quickly .
It spent its life as a leaf ,
To be enjoyed by you and me ..
Tree branches whisper in joy
It rains, so they fill their thirst
A pleasent green they have to show
Birds of all nest in his branches
A quiet moment stands by the scene
The smell of new life overwhelms the medow
Life itself is reading poetry
My pen took life
And I wrote of the coming fruit
To preserve the cycle yet again
Where leaves stars green, turn yellow
And die a dry brown
As the tree gets skinny, a frown is shown
Behold, that I may withdraw from the first stone
A heavy breath shook the earth
Her wind was blowing with such strength
The trees all took strong holds to aid one another
His flowers all droped
Branches broke
For the earth was angry
It spoke out in loud thunder
And it all began once more
We die, new are born
Preserve? Tradition so that a piece of your memory
May live forever.
I am the gold fish
Swimming in the pond
I am the blue bullfrog
Bellowing in the pond
I am the yellow tadpole
Feeding in the pond
I am the fluorescent dragonfly
Nesting in the pond
I am the white rock
Wading in the pond
I am the Noble Savage
Siting on another rock
Contemplative near the pond
I am the sycamore tree
Overshadowing everything within the pond
I am the boisterous wind
Breathing the breath of life in the pond
I am the high noon sun
The spark of life in the pond
I am the green algae and amoeba
Supporting all life in the pond
I am the tall river of grass
Cleaning debris in the pond
I am the blue heron
Raising like the Pohoenix
From the tar sands in pond
I am the black sea turtle
Like an island
Caring for my children
Black white yellow and brown
In the blue pond
All things, great and small,
are created by a perfect
harmony of multiple phases,
like music played on a
piano; there are many keys
to create a simple masterpiece;
the masterpiece of nature is life.
Most small things seem inferior
but without one can disrupt
the whole system creating a
sense of fear, greed and inhumanity
for things that are considered
vital suddenly become scarce.
The term “utopia” is considered to
mean a perfect world, a world in
which war, hunger, and disease do
not exist, then yet human life
continues to turn a blind eye to
what is truly happening to our
home; scars are burnt into the
landscapes, animals are disappearing,
insects that pollinate plants are
vanishing and sometimes without a
trace.
Human life may consider itself
to be powerful, whole, special,
intelligent, but regardless of the
word human life will not last if
the system is disrupted for it
depends on the one source that all
life requires – food.
Utopia?
It is not a word that
actually exists for human life
is naturally selfish; it takes
but rarely gives back.
The world human life aspires to
is not always created for nature
always comes second in human
thought.
Pity is the only word that can
be assigned to human life for
it is not as superior as it
considers itself to be for
nature has a sneaky way of
turning human life on its
very own head.
Deep in the desert
Where the sun shines
Bright and hard
Lived a little flower
Pale as the sand
It stood bravely
The sun beat on it
The wind blew in it
The heat almost
Took the life out of it
But there it stood
In the clear night
Beneath the canopy
Of thousand of stars
Morning brought a traveler
From some place afar
He stopped by the plant
To wash himself
Few drops spilled over
To the pale flower beneath
A shiver went thru’ her
And tremblingly she unfolded
A few more drops
And the petals
Stretched themselves
Hesitantly, tremblingly
As if some force
Pushing them out
Of her dream of death
Eternity, holds her breath
The pretty petals
What a sight to behold
Seemed to be overwhelmed
By unstoppable madness
A little place
Of sensual joy
Thus life reentered
Joyously
What a moment ago
Had been dead
Entered it visibly
Passionately
In all its glory
The wayfarer
Looked down with a start
As if surprised
To see such beauty
In the barren desert
Bent down
And plucked the flower
And put it against his heart
And there she can
Be seen now
Happily riding away.
Swimming, life carefree
Net tightens around the school
Deliverance, grace
May your hook always be cast
Where you least expect fish caught
Synergism, save
These lost fish, grateful intent
Catch and release, Life
Responsible now
Freedom, new life in warm water
Breach, spout words, joy, sing
School of life, protective school
Numbers rise with the right bait
Bait, love, nuturance
Guide... North Star...The leader Home
Reward eternal life
Into space, a rammed ship the passing Star spewed.
Feverish, life into its bowels forever doomed.
Survival hopes by a tumefying Sun aerified.
The void, blindly the last ship hopefully roved.
About a new demesne the space travellers were excited.
From afar a blue planet, with alleviation, they sighted.
Secretly nearing, at dawn they furtively on the planet landed.
A new chapter in their civilization they had just started.
‘What a Shangri-la!’ bewitched, they all exclaimed.
Vast, green meadows that no horizon limited.
Here and there by splashes of color patched.
That small, clean springs generously watered.
The commander under the charm stooping.
‘ look ! Life in here is pullulating.
Each creature, its task dutifully executing.
Listen! Their sprightliness they are serenading.
It must be good to live here.’
Somewhere in the wild alarmed Geese ominously cackled.
A hellish plan the artful Aliens concocted.
Under human skin they concealed.
With unaware Earthlings they mingled.
Unnoticed, power they gradually gained.
Up the ladders they patiently climbed.
Ultimately, human fate in their hands they grasped.
The worldlings’ minds they totally captured.
With treasure and pleasure they baited
Vice and decadence in tellurians they reared.
Race inequalities they first prophesied.
Hate and disdain they tacitly stirred.
Family haleness they second attacked.
Males and females they confused.
Their innate assets they crucified.
Looseness and profligacy they skillfully preached
Rejuvenation off households sloughed.
ROBINS DESERTED THE SKY.
I close my eyes to feel her rhythmic hum,
an ancient hymn that thrives within us all,
with arching curve and wise maternal sprawl,
to her fertile wood, with joy, I succumb.
As air envelopes body, mind and soul,
the breath of life flows in and fills the wells-
the deep, the dark, and sorrow it dispels
attuning unaligned with self control.
In flames untamed, unbridled passion burns
to stimulate creative drive to be,
a swirling fevered dance of breaking free,
its searing heat refines and there I learn.
The waves that undulate with tidal tow
wash over braised and battered mortal limbs
and float the fanciful and subtle whims
to soothe abrasive pain that life bestows.
Come wind and wave from earth, with flame take flight,
combine in me upon this starry night.
~Enclosed rhyme scheme quatrains~
~blue northern winds
a frolicking arctic
whistling the blues
~blue skies darken
the sun’s eyelid is closed
life dares to dream
~blue bulb tulips
adamant potential
life given stores
~blue dormancy
frozen earthly landscape
fur bearing seals
Sweet and gentle,
the wind creates motion,
plant-life sways creating
an illusion of glimmering colour.
The sound of the buzzing life hidden
amongst it gives life to a once deserted
land.
The smell of the many flowers is carried
by the slight breeze almost teasing
the senses one beholds.
An ocean of colour floods the
unaware mind creating many
images of how life flows in petite
waves.
A gentle blue dominates the skies
dotted with the purest of white,
sunlight feeds the processes that
are hidden from sight.
The softness of the grass is like
silk against new born skin.
Energy governs this place then yet
life itself is overlooked by many.
Many secrets still unknown and
kept almost jealously are awaiting
their turn to be released under
these gentle blue skies for nature
is something of a hidden treasure.
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