Long Naturemorning Poems
Long Naturemorning Poems. Below are the most popular long Naturemorning by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Naturemorning poems by poem length and keyword.
At the British History Museum, we met
To discuss our future plans
An expedition beckons
To a far forgotten land
Rumours had been rife
Of a plateau on this lands
Where time had stood so still
With ancient beasts, oh so grand
Down by the Thames
We load the Cargo's for our trip
Scientists and Paleontologists
Are with the crew of our ship
We set sail in the morning
Heading for Cape Horn
Many weeks we will travel
If we survive the Atlantic storms
A shout from the crows nest
Land of the starboard side
Tierra del Fuego archipelago
To the shore we gently guide
Our expedition now landed safely
All personnel and supplies
Tomorrow our search starts
We will see has time defied
We set off towards the mountains
Enjoying the scenery as we go
The closer we get inland
Species of plants we did not know
We arrive at a clearing
Beside a meandering river
It was at this point
My body began to shiver
For just above the clouds
There appears to be some land
This must be the plateau
To scale it, has to be planned
We shall wait a few days
To watch the mists appease
And determine a route to climb
With care and utmost ease
The morning has arrived
Up the plateau steep we go
The air begins to get thinner
As our breathing gathers slow
Vines and lush impede us
Giant ferns with thorns so cutting
Rocky pinnacles exhaust our climbing
Perseverance overcomes their jutting
Our climb has left us jaded
We shall rest overnight
For in the morning we will continue
To hopefully witness forgotten sights
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-12.php
SUMMER IMPATIENCE
Now it is glorious summer
And the winter of our discontent is turned
Into a sudden sea of dandelions without number.
This morning I walked out across the park
Which I cross every day.
Yesterday it was merely green and stark,
Patiently awaiting its bi-weekly trim by noisy machine:
The high-point in its half-monthly existence
As a small part of the city’s spaces green.
But today it was a riot of impatient weeds,
Yelling with tiny voices yellow and bright,
Rapidly bursting from their dormant seeds,
As if God woke up this morning from His oblivion
And, as an afterthought, commanded,
“ Let there be dandelions.”
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NOTE
The first two lines of the poem are closely modeled on
Shakespeare’s famous lines in the play RICHARD III
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Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Summer
I trail along behind the morning chirpy magpie
to liberate from the materialistic vice,
sturdily race up the alley of rocky green hills
horses galloping on bright yellow daffodils,
i earnestly climb up to the hill prime
i embrace the nature vigorously with a warm smile,
i stop and admire the glorious countryside
while the fresh morning breeze runs down my spine,
cotton candy clouds floating high up in the sky
butterflies and bees tireslessly rises up high,
i watch the sun wakes from the distant misty horizen
capturing every exhilarating moments,
releasing lifes turbulance,grief and torments
while witnessing gods most amazing attainments,
around me tranquillity and calm,everything at peace
listening to birds singing,with such ease,
bluebells and dandelions majestically hovering care-free
the earths countryside musk,purifies me,
i notice the morning star gradually fades
while the rays of the sun exhaling,canopys the earth shades.
The last icy tremor of your wintry winds
Fizzling through the choked air
Leave your thinning threads
In the oncoming fairyland of Spring.
Welcome, welcome, first lady of creation
Your sweet smelling grass sheds tears of dew
Tears of elation as morning peeps
Your foetal clouds bathe us in your re-birth
As winter threads its' skeleton hand
With its' new love Spring
And with that a new energy is born.
Song and lilacs greet the dawn
Early birds furrage for the nesting days
Through paths of bluebells they ferry twigs
Celebrating the beginning of morning light.
Fresh air exhales baby crocus buds yonder
While the swelling sun in giant splendour
Can no longer conceal the first flush of Spring.
The world is awakened by its' might arrival
The dance of the daffodils is about to begin.
For Francine Roberts competition Bring on Spring
As I watch the mist awake from the forest floor.
It appears like a shimmering silver carpet.
Coating the ferns and vines in its magic.
The moon begins to set, willing the sun to appear.
The creatures of the woods, soon to be abed.
I realize I don't matter here; I'm just a visitor to this place.
Allowed to envision this wondrous gift of nature.
A moment in time, for 'tis only a moment.
Til it disappears until another day is called.
It settles along the base of ancient trees,
The Guardians of the forest.
Whose massive limbs bend, but never break.
The mist will soon dissipate, to be vanquished in the
warmth of the morning sun.
Leaving me wanting more, this vision of beauty.
The magic found only in the early break of day.
The gift of the Morning Mist
The dew covered green grass
Tickles my sides and soaks my back
I can see each drop on my hair magnified
Listening to the early morning song
When the sun is just breaking the horizon
And the stars and moon are still in the sky
Mixing the sky like a tie-dyed t-shirt
Midnight blues, frightening blacks and purples
Fiery oranges, soft pinks, and happy yellows
Each talking half of the sky
Fingers reaching and just barely touching at the center
A light breeze blows frightening away my morning song
I watch the little blue bird's erratic flight
Hear the final of the night crickets chirps
And feel the sun warm on my face
Seeming to melt away the stars and moon
Brightening the sky to a baby blue
Opening the day as if it were a book
Waiting for me to write in the chapters of life
Enchanted Forest
Dedicated To Ms. Jersey
Enchanted Forest telling a beautiful story to me,
as I was walking Ms. Jersey there.
My, what a grand gesture,
they were telling, too!
The leaves flowing slightly in harmony,
with the winds.
Each one of them, giggling as I stepped further.
Mother Nature gave a kiss,
of sweet cooing,
from the morning doves.
The trees saying hey; don't forget about me,
as I walked past; touching each, while we,
continuing along our walk.
I stopped to look back at them all; they each,
waving by leaf.
Mother Nature has her mind, and it's well-accepted,
in my heart.
As Ms. Jersey and I; "Danced in the Forest of Enchantment."
When day is birthed from darkness’s womb
and light is spread upon rekindled hues,
the breezes stir mornings subtle perfume
as they chase the petals from clouded snooze.
Nightingale’s song from quiet does bloom,
symphony accompaniment to infuse,
and with our steps we are natures twin
holding her beauty so tightly within.
Through apples arch we wilfully walk
to embrace the morning by rivers edge,
where bended willows seem to crouch and stalk
those silver fishes beneath drift weeds ledge,
and in our world where we need not talk
entwined our fingers show our pledge,
that while each morning still overcomes night
we remain together in her delight.