Best Naturetime Poems
"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature" William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601
towering redwoods
forest dwellers born before Christ’s time on Earth
spreading arms to lofty heights
dwellings provided in hollow, cave-like trunks
wrap your spirit in the redwood cocoon
feel the cool, dark air
refreshing body and spirit
refuge from summer’s heat
speak to me, redwood tree,
tell me of times past
when Native Americans cherished the land
and Jesus preached in Galilee
out of body, one with the redwood
journeying through history
living in a time tunnel
where past meets present
trees that know what man has forgotten
ancient tribes with sacred values
surviving earth-changing cataclysms
surrounding us with secrets to share
if we dare
dwell within
this broad, mystical expanse
redwoods’ memories
by Carolyn Devonshire
for Constance’s “The Tree” Contest
April 21, 2011
As we walk along the river of creation.
We begin to watch the rocks at our feet for those of interest by sight.
And those of which was collected had brought many thoughts to mind.
These rocks of ages are the Stones of Time.
If these Stones of Time could see and speak, we would hear the story of all the ages.
And as a visual check begins to decipher the stones, many variations come to mind.
For each stone is different beyond compare.
Shape, color and contrast are all there.
Through thousands of years the stones had formed yet in the beginning were they already
there?
For they are neither animals nor plants, yet they exist.
Each one different yet the same in a mysterious way.
And those with holes from dripping rain.
Aggots with much beauty are they.
The earths crust is embedded with such time lines such is a tree.
Yet, many answers still lie in the Stones of Time.
Copyright@March 2010 MaryM.McShirley/Kilker
Serene sounds of the Rhythm of the Falls
Echo through the forests green canopied walls
Delightful in flow like Robin's pen
Where the Rhythm of the Falls will flow time and time again
Her liquid lullaby, capturing natures sight
Greened mossed coverings, a velvet delight
As the waters fall under gravity feed
The Rhythm of the Falls, are beautiful indeed
After reading Robin's lovely Haiku " Liquid Lullaby " these lines flowed.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-5.php
none of us
will see the next century
none of us
will see the next dimension
why should we care?
but they feel it
the empaths,
the watchers, the light,
of creation
its coming, change
on broken wings,
it flies past
as the world
peels off her layers.
she reveals herself
to be in torment
and we parasites
go about our
everyday life
ignoring her screams
for our mercy
so if I the poet?
can draw attention
to her plight
I will scream
I will curse
I will burn effigy of
every god known to man
its time to notice
its time to take action
So I scream
a thousand poems
and cry a million tears
until the wash
of my sound
can be heard
Strange faces facing stranger...faces once familiar,
once borrowed time from the wholesaler....with the retailer....
shared time and places similar....attention meaning superior,
where is that space today?...emoticon nowadays?...expressions moved on,
where is that face today?....concoction nowadays?...eyes carried on,
where is thy time today?...went without me to conquer.... another face...another laughter,
where are thy tears today?..vent thy intelligence to rapture...another mind..another fracture,
faces still try...smirk at a glimpse of thy....faces deny...allegations defy boredom to clarify,
naught but a stage...actions reply...obsolete vividness and fake wides,
ageless pretense through ages...a question why?....a resolute stillness in the tides,
faces frown....linger and ignore...stealing glances...when caught they alight,
buy pretty laws to nazify....ugly truth to pacify,
preach fascism to decline...attempts to gratify....cause thy voice to recline,
thy must fishify...feel nothing..sleep with open eyes...let them mummify,
ignoble faces surprise...bring thy amusement and rile,
faces still manage to arise when crossed....made to “cover up”, well versed with a
jargon “what's up?”.
What a time in a day!
When sun takes rest
And moon becomes the king
Stars warrior become inspiration
To many poets, astrologer
Peace spreads its Saree
To protect ears, rest mind
When learners learn, lovers love
When whites shine, milky way
When earth sleeps, hearts awake
This is the time truly brilliant.
by:-
Vrushani Thaker
Hearth of Winds
From west to east you plumb axisal spin,
And darted on the limbs of the poles.
On longitudes and latitudes, you are dotted in silhouettes.
Just above the horizon of age, you journeyed,
Beckoning the threshold of syllabubic windfalls.
Sated with doldrums of lambent haul,
And the pomp of sycamore hover instill.
When you call again at the Isle of trench,
The oracles of time shall tune again the aviary.
Seated upon the pillion of days the carter roves,
Tilting in all directions with hopes of succour.
A long way from time indeed you are,
But as the tides of valour surmise you triumph.
Once I saw an array of humanic acclaims,
In a manger of Sylphic heath of tenderness.
The hills of tonic travails titivating the hold,
And all the flakes of materialism dancing attune the vista.
The tales of deeds will forever entail polemic puzzles,
And the spate of the weaver’s loom shall reckon amidst.
Adeola Yusuf Amuni
Now is the time of reaping and abundance.
Now a time of preparation for winter's frozen scarcity.
The sun hangs low in autumn skies,
and foggy veils obscure the view.
In Spring, when all was fresh and new,
an all together different hue of innovation:
summer's promise budding in anticipation.
Green newness bursting with naivety.
As time ticks by and lives march on just like the seasons;
the spring of youth and childhood innocence
give way to lusty languid summers of prosperity.
A gathering of experience in autumn,
which leads to winter's wizened wisdom.
Make it not a season of discontentment,
but a time of rich reflection on lives well spent.
A time of joy not isolation,
Make this is a time of plenitude for all for whom we care.
Help us make this winter time a time of hope
not helplessness; and a time when grace is all we share.
For now is the time of reaping and abundance.
I know a place where cats enjoy long life,
where human intervention is tolerated,
but,
where only cats are allowed
It is where they rule, decide their fate,
to go hunting or sleep late,
prowl their border, look for a mate,
food abundant, early or late,
no need for a snack with an always full plate
Non-skid litter lines their bathroom floor,
ideal for completing their daily chore,
no need for flushing, gets covered instead,
when it reaches its peak, mysteriously disappears,
automatically replenished,
a new floor every other day or more
When night time falls they are free to prowl,
crouching tigers one and all,
waiting to pounce at the slightest noise,
or attack a shadow suddenly appearing on a wall,
their prey, rarely actually exists,
makes no difference,
prowling is not something they would ever miss,
immediately after a good prowl,
onto their bed, a good stretch,
sleep away until daylight
Come first light their tummy signals its time to eat,
they check out their food bowl,
if stale,
it is time for humans to wake
Hunger sated, find a sunbeam to bask and wait,
awaiting a signal, to do whatever their mind dictates
Ah, such a place is the mind of a cat,
from where they rule and dictate,
how we humans who love them,
make their life great
Before the birds start chirping
And people will begin rushing
Moments for merely breathing
Not far away from the morning
Tranquilized time of dawn of the day
Diligently waiting for the first sun ray
The sky is yet black and dark grey
Will be brightened without delay
Stars have not gone out of sight
Moon is shining still very bright
But it is not the time of night
The most halcyon time to indite
Cold wind defeating the summer
The dew point is ready to occur
Traffic of the city is at its leisure
Usualy crowded, when day’s sizzler
Years and years ago
Surged man's worst foe
A phoney, deceitful glow
The promise of easy dough
Made him greedily bow
From the future, time to borrow
Own grave went on to burrow
Down he went, too low
In the sky began to sow
Poison and endless woe
Years and years later
At a dark abyss border
Making out the big blunder
With too much to bother
Yet, no time for anger
Hopes aren't that slender
Let's just stand together
The young and the elder
For our home cater
And save the Life layer
Form:
A beauty so rare in it's habitat
Endangered they are by the human brat
Like many others on our planet earth
Our greed devalues their living worth
These Siberian Stripe-rs from the Trans-Caucasus lands
To view it in it's wilds is a feeling of grand
But it's so tragic to believe how few of them remain
Around five hundred and twenty, live in their domain
Three hundred and fifty Kg's, with a one metre tail
Panthera tigris altaica is the size of the male
In China they are being reared to repopulate it's wilds
So generations of our children, will deservedly smile
Will we ever learn that they are entitled to be here
As us humans expand into their expanse year after year
There has to be a time when respect is due to them
Then our time has come to change from man to men
If the above does not happen, we become the last two lines
Another species gone, this most beautiful panthera feline
Imagine the moment when you look into his eyes
There are millions of us, as their last one dies
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-11.php
Street lights,
October nights,
Time and time again,
Time the seams to never end,
Dreams that soar the mind like kites
Here's dawn,
The night has gone,
For time has put it in ts place,
The Worlds continued its great race,
Times left us tired thus we yawn
Day grows brighter
The sun climbs higher,
And then the light begins to fade,
It grows easier to find some shade,
The Earth has blocked its solar fire
Nights come again,
Times cycle begins,
And never seems,
To ever end.
Form:
spring is a nice time
watch the grass come up is nice
love this time of year.
Once wild Iris was young
Lush and green next to the pond
She splashed and drank
Had her fun, warmed by the sun
Soon came time for her to settle down
She met Louis Tanna Iris that wore a crown
A crown of yellow, yes he wore
He wanted to marry and have more(Little Tanna)
Her wild ways was hard to tame
But the years began to wear her down
No longer was her hair of bronze
But mostly white shining in the sun
Louis Tanna came to a early demise
For his feet became way to dry
His leaves so healthy became yellow
Soon his crown no longer spry
This was the time that she did grieve
She did not even meet her daily needs
Of food, exercise, and her devotion prayer
Now wild Iris is totally Care (free)