Nature Pastoral Poems | Examples
These Nature Pastoral poems are examples of Pastoral poems about Nature. These are the best examples of Pastoral Nature poems written by international poets.
Be in no hurry, grow as you may, bending and turning whichever way.
Water I will, and water I must, water, until you bout, had enough.
Placed in the window facing the sun, to put on a show you're having fun.
As the day settles groomed for the night, grow as you may beneath the moon's light.
The way the moon faithfully spans across the sky-- does prove He
designed the lunar path to be elliptical -- how groovy --
and blessed --we are-- to get this nightly panoramic "movie"
When Spring’s first touch is gently set
with Winter now scarcely a threat,
implore the ocean breezes spray
all cares and troubles far away.
With sweet caress of warmer days
and softness in the sunny haze,
carry me to pastoral thoughts
of my favorite nature spots.
Where flowers kiss the breeze that blows
and young ones run, too spry to pose,
transport me to refreshing moods,
where nature's calm, no one intrudes.
Such peace brushes my soul out here!
I lie still as Tender Hands steer
my notions to emotions pleased
and comfort me, turmoils are eased.
By the shore, with effortless strokes, he paddled.
On the bank, a pasture with holstein cattle -
Sitting there, up high on the wooden seat, he
lazily dabbled.
Softly crept the coyote, prepped for battle.
Warmed by sun, a little one lagged to tackle
dandelions, all nestled in the clover,
grazing and addled.
Overhead, a mockingbird spied the rabble,
saw the calf who from the herd had now straggled.
Shrieking then, she dived at the rascal, oh so
noisily tattled.
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Haven't tried a sapphic stanza before - pretty picky placement of feet
in a 4-line stanza. Not sure this hits very well, but as always, try
and try again!
Trochee, trochee, dactyl, trochee, trochee (3x)
Dactyl, trochee
buttercup daisy
&
cowslip
swaying pelts
of grasses
bask in Spring
purple vetch
ribwort plaintain
lush clover
in English rain
scalious burnets
protude
hawthorn
dense and tough
sweet scented woodruff
hearts tongue
divided frond
circle &stop
spined point
rambled briar
sprawl
prickly &
wandering tall.
long days
of sun
nature blinks &shrinks
the dying grass
yellowed in sleep
held fast
oat
tinted gold
shimmers on tall
green stems
in warm
evening sun
shaded gold
silence
shattered
thunder clouds
curtains of rain
monsoon
turns day
into night
&
berries rot
'neath the
bramble.
Will you take a ride with me on an unsaddled pony,
past the dusky copper kettle glow of Gilead pond?
Two young, carefree kids wandering barefoot..
far as we can see the fields stacked in hay, our highway
The Summer sun we'll chase away to the end of days
'til the dark, moonless forest voices call.
No lightning lights Vega's face, not even your hand
catches Cassiopeia's distant glance.
Can we return one day to bottle cap mysteries untold,
down the long lost dusty finger of Birdie Galyan Road?
I love a day where I am at peace,
when I can just wander in rural fields;
letting the air and the sky release,
and the blossoms float with scent that yields
and my worries, sorrows and grief cease.
Where trees become my shelter and shields,
oh, delightful are flowers cerise;
then, by a soothing stream my pen wields,
words about this awesome scented day.
____________________________
September 20, 2019
Poetry/Pastoral/Rural Fields
Copyright Protected ID 19-1205-593-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to FGI Blog Series 24, eclogue
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1
How is it in this meadow plush with grass
Where sturdy oaks stand holding up the sky
Their shade recedes -long summer days decry
To fade their glinting leaves to molten brass
Leaves that turn into October’s dream
Floating down as rustic butterflies
In Nature’s oft repeating Fall disguise
Bright canvases that set first frost agleam
By The Light Of The Silvery Moon
Man seizes the ramble of a wayward moon,
Echoes clear its pale look melancholy tune,
It lends a trail took before of song and face,
Man ambles in the real feel of its sung grace,
Glimpse that all the creator has caused to be,
Harmony feels to express nature's beauty.
2019 September 26
*1st Place*
Any Poem You Want to Write 50 Words or Less
~~Caren Krutsinger
Suburban Pastorale
(I walk in nature still alone. Thoreau)
Among purchased trees
he seeks repose
and bruised
by civic alienation
forgets that Eden's cleft
has led to all that's made.
But surely he knows
Man and Nature
bound only by cultivation
are not the same.
For he, like most,
prefers his nature tame.
In the Autumnal sunlight -
primary colours become gold
Back and forth,
HIgh then low
Black swifts scythe below;
Beneath the vivid hue
Wide-set celestial blue.
Across the field
Buttercups fill my view with
Dung pats,dried,and fried in the sun;
Cowslips clumped,bud apple-green
With daisies dotted between.
On a lowland moor, waved a sea of green
Pastoral gardens, peaceful and serene
Ocher blossoms, kissed by the sun
were posing for a painting I 'd begun
In this placid glen, nature's beauty reigned
Captured with brush before sunlight waned
Cornwall's grey sentinels rose to the sky
Granite cliffs worthy for artists to descry
I scaled a mountain to glimpse the sea
Humility washed in waves over me
Fingers of foam fondled the sandy shore
T'is a regal place I'll visit once more
In the valley my canvas came alive
Nature's beauty, my eyes did not deprive
Filled with regret when dusk stole my light
I painted from memory, into the night
Bright Marguerites,open and ablaze,
Reflected in a sunny haze.
Lilies waxed in a summer light,
A Jasmined fragrance to fill the night.
Perfumed petals,paper-white
Intoxicate,then delight;
Speaking volumes with words un-heard
Silent,flowers upon which all senses merge.