Long Seasonsnature Poems
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On a dusty and narrow path dwarfed by the enormous
redwood trees, which have conquered all of the soft-blue sky;
I walk and I'm astonished by the tallest of them all!
Winter has left and the snows begin to melt away, to invite a lovely butterfly
to perch on wildflowers like aspens and mountain daisies swaying at the foothill;
and right beyond them, granite cliffs gloriously shine like those
northern mountains' peaks dabbed with spring snow;
oh, yesterday they were invisible to the blinking eye!
I stroll underneath groves of sequoia and white fir, and see myself really small;
and these giant trees encircling me, will lament how they shiver when they're cold,
and sad when battered by the storm; how they'll strive for lack of space and sunlight,
but wildfires may cause destruction and leave this forest barren and arid! I fix my glance
upward, and I start spinning and whirling in the stylish manner of an experienced dancer,
and they spin along with me, in a soft crescendo, never falling down with an awkward thud!
I continue walking and admiring the majestic view of a creation, too inspiring and sublime,
which was hidden from these very eyes...to make their discovery more exciting and fun!
Who hasn't seen the redwood trees in my forest? Come along and satisfy your curiousity;
these trees have more stories to tell more than a victorious warrior galloping his horse away;
and for decades, they have seen greedy hands cut them down without regard or mercy...
depleting nature of its internal richness, and when it rains, floods corrode its terrain!
Imagine what the earth will become without any of these, adorning it with a variety of colors;
look closer, some of them are covered with thick lichen, others show a cinnamon,
hard bark, so protect Nature with your best ability and be rewarded with amazing results!
A forest, which displays its wild and natural beauty, is a treasure like my redwood trees!
Entered in Constance La France's contest, "A walk to remember"
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Huddled among massive rocks,
at the bottom of a barren cliff,
breathing in the strongest aroma of jasmines,
watching hordes of seagulls hover over an abandoned ship;
pensively and attentively spending peaceful times by calm river,
geese see me and slowly approach me to share some of this enthralling wander!
The flow of the river is constantly intriguing,
sometimes slow, other times rushing in the manner of a surge,
making the passing barges resemble timber floating
to their unknown destination, unless the currents change
and they will be crashing on the sandy blanks to dry out and decay;
the same fate awaits the fowls when their bodies become old and die!
Rare beauty I ravishingly behold while my attention is not swayed,
the thickness of the trees won't let the eyes penetrate their wilderness beyond,
only the restless ravens know their habitat and venture themselves in those woods;
I am groped by their mystery, but I dare not enter into the untamed animal' world,
as the woodpeckers continue making their noises to scare away any possible predators...
while moans of creatures are heard: are they attacked by wild dogs, or ferocious wolves?
The glow of the descending sun diminishes and a chill pervades my body,
my Windbreaker is the perfect attire to wear, and not make me feel the breeze's coolness;
the darker colors appearing above give indication of the arrival of a spectacular sunset,
those hues change brightness, and somehow seem to vanish as clouds impose their treat...
a storm wind coming, or is nature imitating our human nature to take control of destiny,
to spoil my peaceful times by this calm river...shouldn't I be angered by their hostility?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
She recall her day when she sat by the window
And saw the defiled sky to brace up on with spiritual phantasm
Of some demonic begrudges – amassing and making
The flushing spirit of the late evening merriments and bichrome realism.
She beshrewed the iniquity rushing by, but it pelted upon
It bastardized her against the immorality of the nature
And she held up with no parole and desires…
She felt herself interred to the nature that despair.
The inquity that brigthened with thunderclaps and silver storm
She averted her fear and assailed against this rage
Acquainted herself with the nature she forefended
Pounded for few moments and synced with the lifelike stage.
She clapped, she laughed, she fantasied with the zesty consequence
She danced, she danced with the drops falling from the sky,
She sung her own rhythm catching her steps divine
The music prolonged as the clouds lightened and twittery lyrics whistled thereby.
Enduring the theme, she limned in her imagination
A life she yearned-for, A life she was not expecting
She painted in her heart an amorist she was looking for
Holding his hand she balled on the miry stage with pavan relieving.
The lust she felt over her drizzly body
Closed her eyes as she felt the touch of his lips on her belly
He took hold of her waist and she accured the fanciful time with reverence
She dangled holding the dampen trunk of a tree, and embraced her amorist
temptingly.
The flushing spirit that bestowed with mightiness and relief
She glittered with love, spirit, esteem and belief
All of a sudden she roused from her phantasies
Withal the monsoon girl lived her day, ceasing all her grief.
in the Carolinas there's beauty in nature
spring is here ears are attuned to birds singing
baby chicks tweets for their parents feedingsl
behind green foliage on an oak trees's branch
eyes spies butterflies freed from it's cacoon
drinking nectar from wildflowers
in the fields behind a farmers barn
where a river of pink salmon swim up stream
mouth watering blackberries catches strollers
attention
alongside grassy trail thorns and spiny leaves pricks
the hands
of walkers hoping to taste the sweetness of a
blackberry
a pocket dyed purple with a few to take home
mmmmm the smell of roses tickles nostril hairs
growing wild along the woods edge
three feet from the picket fence around the yard
tall smiling sunflowers wave at visitors touring the
grounds
children touch dandilions by Cooper's pond
laugh and play reaching for dandifluries in the wind
arms like airplane wings waving up and down while
they run
hearing their names being called time for supper
spring is here again feel the warmth after the chilly
winter
the sunshine blazing through sliding glass doors
vacationing warm spring beaches along the grand
strand
sand between the toes water above knees in the
dusky hours
in the Carolina's spring is here again
all is new in the beauty of nature
Awesome power is it natures wrath
To devastate all in its path
Twisters, winds driving rain
Leaves no place to look the same
In a way as it gathers pace
Never in a human place
Hidden killer out at sea
Land urge where it wants to be
Building strength, gathers speed
To destroy any breeds
The one i recall in this worlds arena
This phenomenon called Hurricane Katrina
Louisiana, New Orleans
Was subject by one so mean
Her awesome might hammers home
We are not on this world alone
The sights viewed all around the world
Natures torture from her living swirl
To consternate these Southern Lands
The rains and winds spew from her glands
The aftermath and splatter view
Killed so many, survivors few
City blocks submerged and broken
A legacy of natures token
New Orleans Jazz continues to play
Although nature won this day
Resilient folks, awesome place
Human nature won this race
Undercover we will rise
But in mother nature we will not despise
She gives us life, we share her hope
To view her strength, we can not gloat.
The trees and air warn of his coming.
His scent and touch are well known.
We prepare for his rise and look towards his fall.
His is king, surpassing the blazing fire.
He coats all and everything with a simple touch.
We seek his enemy, the flame, for protection.
Yet even the flame folds under his power,
Leaving all unprotected from his wrath.
Countless victims he claims during his reign,
Old and young, white or black, all become victims.
Being part of nature himself, he tortures nature itself.
He's violent, ruthless with the heart of ice.
Yet his beauty cannot be denied.
He brings death and gives way to life.
He's a stone-cold killer with a heart of ice,
Yet the most beautiful sight for a pair of eyes.
Form:
Now garnishing her stage with high décor
Does Nature take delight in seasons four;
Embellished by her handiwork, they stand
As symbols recognized throughout the land
Before her curtain rests a Summer spell,
Although behind the cool of Autumn dwells,
Awaiting only for the warmth to ease,
And paint the pallid faces of the leaves
Still watching from afar does Winter speak
Of coming frost and heavy blizzards bleak,
While Spring lies sleeping soundly in the earth
Until its beauty once again gives birth
In time all crafted seasons have their say;
The new emerges and the old gives way,
As Nature works relentlessly to hold
The glitter of her treasure’s fading gold.