Best Naturesong Poems
In the warmest of seasons,
when the cheerless moon of a remote town
rises from beyond the fir and maple-covered hills,
in great suspense and silence,
a brief song is played by this guitar
with a few chords and numerous notes:
making up the merriest melody
sustained by a perfect and simple harmony...
I am the author and the composer,
expressing my feelings in an unusual norm,
regardless how the critics will judge it,
for words and music should have an effective form:
free of impurity, lively and up-beat,
something likable by every singer,
to make such a unique composition notable,
and be remembered by every mortal...
I play it to my oldest friend, a royal friend who listens
and seldom gets bored by the lively strokes of the strings;
melancholic moon, I like to see you smile for a change:
to be sad is evoking death itself when no bird sings,
and darkness shows its cadaverous, unmerciful face!
When fear is very real and perceptible in each sense,
life departs from us and evil spirits frantically dance;
melancholic moon, gaze down and lighten up your rage...
I am no genius or pretend to be,
and my humanness and wisdom are always
reflected by a justified action and a truthful word:
to draw the attention of the stubborn;
and playing a brief song with this guitar, elates me
and dissolves my grim look of loneliness,
to confidently get me through this lovely and eternal night,
but hesitant and murky moon, turn on that luminous light!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
You’re not real deep as rivers go
You’re really not that wide
When it comes to my feelings of you
They’re feelings I just can’t hide
Through giant boulders you descend
Winding through canyon walls
Inside you many have met their end
As rapidly as your water falls
Merle Haggard wrote a song of you
You took someone he loved
His song is very beautiful and true
A gift from God above
At four I stood upon your banks
Watched my mother die
Like those before and after her
So many left to cry
Your pools are pools of death
Calm and still they seem
Whirlpools lurking underneath
The end of many dreams
For Brian's contest
Little grows in this famished land,
its sad song eerily carried upon the wind
is seldom heard across a land spurned by nature,
as if,
destined to be laid bare.
However,
an indescribable beauty,
defiant of nature, is evident to those
who take time to witness
what lies before them,
yet remain cautious of the danger
this beauty contrives.
Life survives precariously,
a testament to its resilience,
each day a challenge,
this land of desert
offers safe harbor to none.
A sad song is eerily carried upon the wind,
each verse a warning,
enter this land of desert,
death alone is guaranteed.
Night time ends it’s reign of terror
animals come out to play
the bite is taken off the winters chill
the song birds greet the day
sleep is rubbed from morning eyes
hot coffee fills the air
a stillness almost holy
a quiet soft and rare
as the morning glows to red
the song bird really sings
to welcome the sun as it crests the horizon
on it’s golden wings.
“SQUAWK, Squawk, squawk” ,the Bald Eagle’s song of Freedom, Liberty and Serenity
bird Houses, in my backyard are filled with baby Chickadees , Whining , is their Song
If they Knew by the end of Summer, in stillness before the Rain: Phoebe - Tranquility
the clouds Thicken and Blacken : the Chickadee puffs her chest, sings Phoebe song
The rain softly Crying a Phoebe’s resounding echoes , Chickadees, duel Ability
the sky is blue: the wind is calm: a single Phoebe "warning" believe in Her Validity
His Bright Red Plumage
He can not hide from my Eyes
Tapping and rapping, His song
There’s no Special beat
A Redheaded Woodpecker
Tap, Tap, Tap, Rap, Raps his Song
So close sits this Robin beside me
No Songs, just the Promise of Spring
Inspired by the Contest : " For(Four) Beautiful Birds"
Sponsored by CONSTANCE~~A Rambling POET~~
Written : May 1st - 2nd, 2011 By HGarvey Daniel Esquire
5th Place
One light clap
Then boom, boom
Wind, rain, storm
Willow threw her head back and laughed as the wind whipped her hair
Large raindrops then faster, smaller and plentiful
All the earth was singing praises, the song of the ages, all the earth sang praise
Delighted at the wind~ going out under the eves of the house
Breathing in the moist air, enjoying the zephyr blowing
I was singing praises, the song of the ages, I was singing praises
Two months since we had any rain to amount to much
All was dry, the plants and trees were hurting, the garden needed rain
Those irrigating hoses just don't bless the earth like rain
The clouds linger the moist air floats about
Birds of the air are quiet relishing each moment
Thanksgiving today for God watered for me
Swans glide on water
Elegant graceful lovers
Float to other
Swans mate forever
Greeting caressing lovers
Touch slightly linger
(Inspiration from John Denver's song "A Song For All Lovers" and Daystar TV Worship Videos)
Atop the mountain, watching “Earth Live”
Struggles, Created by Mankind
Mother “Earth” You overcome : THRIVE
Love oozes from Your “HEART, SOUL, MIND “
Struggles, Created by Mankind
Thoughtlessness ; You have Forgiven
Love oozes from Your “HEART, SOUL, MIND “
The survival Pact, we both are Driven
Thoughtlessness ; You have Forgiven
Memories of the day of “ Rebirth “
The survival Pact, we both are Driven
To “ Re-Supply “ His GIFT, Called “EARTH”
Memories of the day of “ Rebirth “
The song of the Birds; the Tears of Tomorrow
To “ Re-Supply : His GIFT, Called “EARTH”
Replenish the LOVE; it will never know Sorrow
The song of the Birds; the Tears of Tomorrow
Mother “Earth” You overcome : THRIVE
Replenish the LOVE; it will never know Sorrow
Atop the Mountain, watching Earth : ALIVE
Inspired By the Contest “ Pantoum “
Sponsored By Paula Swanson
Written By HGarvey Daniel Esquire
Dedicated to Paula Swanson; Thank-YOU for YOUR inspiring
“ Pantoums “
Today I heard an ancient song that took me by surprise,
A song that since creation had filled our country skies.
A song that has for centuries filled mans heart with joy,
A song that brought back memories of when I was a boy.
When I could wander over fields of Clover Grass or Wheat.
Or lay beneath some shady tree to dodge the summer heat.
All throughout these halcyon days above the insects drone.
This joyous song reminded me that I was not alone.
That nature rampant, uncontrolled with vigour unconfined.
Had conquered all our countryside long before mankind.
I realised this sweet birdsong as heard in ancient past.
Was up against man’s progress, whereby it would not last.
For even at a tender age I somehow understood.
That agriculture’s chemicals would do more harm than good.
Then the tide was turning and man fought control to gain.
By removing ancient hedgerows creating one vast plain.
The Poppy and Corncockle were denuded from the Wheat.
Thus no seeds or insects thrive for any birds to eat.
Somehow the lust for progress never seemed to stop and look
at the catastrophic change in river, pond or brook.
Where are the Grass Snakes, Toads or Newts, where is the common Frog.
The flood planes now have houses on where once there was a bog.
No more do we hear Linnets sing with Blackbird Wren or Thrush.
The countryside has taken on an all pervading hush.
We have yet to realise that our inventive skill,
does not enrich diversity but only serves to kill.
Alas mankind’s eternal search for ever rich reward
has sterilised the country over which the Skylark soared.
Will our children still to come ever understand
what drove our generation to create this baron land?.
And yet, I heard a Skylark on an Industry Estate
We now must find another way before it gets too late
They too must hear this ancient song we must not let it die
and forever may they cherish this sweet music of the sky.
Form:
the strong shrieking wind
a song for trees to sing to
with a whistling noise
the birds have scattered
the song more dominant
with the wind howling
the influx of rain
inherent, a dripping sound
a new tune are played
WNN © 2010
You are music to my ears little song bird.
Outside my window in the morning,
with the sun knocking at my door.
Every morning you wake me softly little song bird,
like tiny whispers in my ear
to stir me from my slumber.
Don't ever leave my window sill.
I need your songs
like the moon needs to ocean.
I need your songs
like a flower needs the rain.
You are music to my ears little song bird.
Outside my window in the morning,
with the sun knocking at my door.
It is you that I adore.
Halls of green pines high, a kissing sun, a poets sky.
Gentle winds caress the skin, colours burst and blend
within. Pinks and blues in sentient sprays, natures love
fills my days. Daisies, buttercups catch the eye, as
birds in song fill the sky. Flora dances, Flora sings,
with her song the colour brings. Sows her seed as she
plays, shows her love in many ways. And lazy sun just
watches on, the grass is lush and dew is gone. And the
dragonfly darts with translucent wings, the busy bee as
pollen clings, sunbeams fall and kiss the skin, and I
soak the joy felt deep within. I stand and listen, nought
to hear, but the opening petals of a dog rose near. This
aura this ambience, holds both heart and soul in a trance.
Spellbound by this wondrous gift, my thoughts aroused
and senses lift. The one thing missing in this paradise, is
your hand.
Form:
Come down, come down
To the sound of the wind
Feel the cattails blow across ones face.
As the red wing black bird sings
The song is one that most protest
Hear the song whisper on
And one will hear perfection
Of nature’s harmony
So end industry
And do not bottle perfection in a zoo
For what a person does not want to view
Is decay, frustration, and death
Awake now the nightingale
Hid, I cannot see its face
Webs the day a better tale
And soothe the heart with its grace
To hear it sing, one must leave
The chill clamors of the night
And mute thoughts that make morn grieve
And sup its song and sunlight
How sweet on the morning air
It pours its sweet consolation
Free of charge this balm I share
The peace of restoration
O nightingale, o kind muse
O clinic to human care
That I neither bought nor choose
That submission brings me here
How bright you rinse the chill day
And set my hope clean flaming
And sorrows old past away
Your song my joy reclaiming
The day is bright with autumn chill and scented air is brisk and pure
And silent gardens are put to bed, as end of year draws swiftly near
We hear the music of the trees, of rustling leaves of red and tan
Let's sing a song to thank our God, for lavish beauty of this land
While autumn drops across the hills, with stain ablaze in amber glow
And hearts are filled with peace of mind to know He keeps a watch below
The wind seeks out the apple tree and rises with celestial zest
And mighty oaks drop acorns free, soon squirrels will scurry to their nest
Where ample harvest from golden earth, and flying geese bid sweet adieu
While loved ones gather around the hearth, our Lord, these blessing come from you
And when the trees are stripped and bare, a world takes rest, to start anew
We bow our heads in silent prayer,
For things like these and many more
We sing our song of gratitude.....
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Inspired by "Hymns of Autumn" contest
sponsored by Brian Strand