Simple Nature Poems | Examples
These Simple Nature poems are examples of Nature poems about Simple. These are the best examples of Nature Simple poems written by international poets.
Charles Messina - Lento Contest
Adoring thoughts focus on life freestyle …
scoring just one private fertile square mile.
Stockpile goods, fish and hunt wild game to store.
Worthwhile garden work brings fruits, greens and more.
Adjourn from life beneath false, greedy skies.
Upturn simple joys as soulfully wise.
Devise strong home and outbuilds by hand earned.
Rise daily filled with all freedom discerned.
within the woods
simple life lays dormant
hidden form the world
He made us see the world in a different way,
His smile just opened up each day,
Every sight around created a radiant smile,
He worked with a smile all the while,
The warmth you feel with a baby's first grins,
That's what you feel when his smile begins,
Your child scores; that rush is the feeling he brings
When he greets you, you hear violins.
His look on life is so simple and free,
It enters your heart, everyone would agree,
He meets our gaze and makes it clear,
You’re seen, you matter, you are here.
I walked around our farm’s “block” one day,
Each side of which is a country mile.
Noticing details along my way;
Sights, sounds, smells, and feelings made me smile.
Cows in a pasture gently grazing;
Some glanced at me but not with alarm.
Now horses who at me were gazing;
Sensing, I felt, I meant them no harm.
I strode past a wood, hiding a deer;
Watched two squirrels clatter up a tree;
Crossed a bridge above water so clear;
Passed some hives but not one buzzing bee.
I smelled freshly cut hay in the field;
Farmer’s crops help him pay his lender.
Pondering the joys my walk did yield;
Loving this simple country splendor.
Follow the imagination of a simple poet
who writes of a lush meadow
mingling with a summer wind
and bending blades of grass
that sway in time with songbirds
who's rhythmic music glide across
the peaceful serenity of green grass
While their eyes are beckoned by white caps
and melting snow
that lay beyond the forest
forming waterfalls to nourish the meadow
bringing life, at its own pace
Where the poet's imagination mingles
with the written word
creating a meadow touched by a summer wind
I hear an ode to joy break forth,
in tune with sun arising
above the earthly swarth,
the little bird know naught of horrid war,
the simple song is its single chore~
an innocent melody of pure delight
reaching even unto heaven’s golden height.
A flurry of flake
Up there in the sky,
Makes this heart ache
And... nearly sigh
A simple wonder
All of it's own,
Like rain and thunder
When you're alone
Coming to call
Without a sound,
A sudden snowfall
Is heaven found.
carried in her little apron was a rock
smooth and simple, dark with a red speck
she had found it near the creek
where she saw the cardinal
the little bird had hopped around frantically
as if he was trying to warn her
she never knew about the wolf watching
but felt the rock meant something special
American naturalist, essayist, philosopher, poet, teacher and transcendentalist.
He pursued spiritual growth through denial of worldly pleasures and simple living.
He left society to live apart in a small cabin as one of the first hippies to exist.
I walked around our farm’s “block” one day,
Each side of which is a country mile.
Noticing details along my way;
Sights, sounds, smells, and feelings made me smile.
Cows in a pasture gently grazing;
Some glanced at me but not with alarm.
Now horses who at me were gazing;
Sensing, I felt, I meant them no harm.
I strode past a wood, hiding a deer;
Watched two squirrels clatter up a tree;
Crossed a bridge above water so clear;
Passed some hives but not one buzzing bee.
I smelled freshly cut hay in the field;
Farmer’s crops help him pay his lender.
Pondering the joys my walk did yield;
Loving this simple country splendor.
(“Ascending Triptych aka Shape Shifter”, 2011, original oil)
The human condition is both vast and simple
Both lofty and hard to grasp and
Immediately at hand
And intimately knowable.
Everyone is different
But everyone is ultimately the same
In our basic elements, in our source
At our core.
This is who we really are; the divine made flesh,
A completeness of wisdom and compassion,
In every cell,
And yet our condition is also ignorance of this.
But since our most basic level of being
Is the divine
It permeates all our works
All our traditions, religions and spiritual paths,
Since there is in truth nothing outside
The sphere of utmost purity and light
No matter how muddled and dark
Our experience of it is.
(11/19/25)
Something oh so simple
Shows me how I’m rooted
In this life’s time and place
But with roots really out of time
I’m triggered by connections
To recall my original face
(11/16/25)
When the light begins to early fade
In the rolled up air of Winter
And the Black Sun sits for hours
On the cold bedroom floor
We know for sure still
That Nature’s circle will come round again
To comfort us with a new sun
To fill the celestial dome above
And the tomb under Cavalry’s hill
In the dry eyed hill of winter’s altar
Reflected in sacrificing eyes
Even if the stars have begun to melt away
In the warming morning light
On the thawing Tuscan stream
We can wish them back into being
And hear Nature’s singing again
In the simple hope of Spring
(“Zero Point of Creation”, 2018, original encaustic)
The Dual Nature
The dual nature of reality,
When we look we see a thing
When we don’t it is a wave,
Isn’t a matter of either/or
But one of and/both.
Beyond the simple wonder of this reality
Is the ineffable mystery of what lies within.
What more is there to say
When you have reached the point of origin
The zero point of every thing.
(9/3/25)
I peer in the pond
to see how nature sees me
a pure simple face—
but the image there is blurred
out of focus and disturbed
drops drip on the pond
my image quivers to rings
shaking what's seen there—
a dark shadow of myself
disturbed by faint puffs of wind
pond refuses me
a still life true reflection—
like a photograph
taken with flash-freeze device
for I'm incomplete not fixed
when the ripples fade
when the wind abates briefly—
what I see has changed
it's bent twisted distorted
by frustration and distrust