Most Commented Nature Poems (1,977)

The setting sun in all her glory
Made evening sky blush...
Hues of orange, red and gold splashed here
And dashed there with a bold stroke
Clouds stood still as she lowered herself
Into the mountains' cradle...
The birds sang a lullaby
And the crickets joined the chorus
Boys and girls, playing hopscotch
Called in to dinner
By tired moms
And dads crawled in from labor and toil
To be greeted with smiles of hope and love
Lamps were lit and curtains drawn
None had time to view the glory
That was the setting sun
Another day had come and gone

The heart of the sea is a mother's heart
She is the great ancestral mother of all life on the planet
Deep within the dark mysterious waters of her womb
She conceived and gave birth to the first life form
which evolved into more complex organisms
that live on the land and in the air

She is an essential part of the planet's ecosystem
feeding the clouds which bring rain and snow
that sustain life on the earth
Through tiny ocean plants and photosynthesis
she removes carbon dioxide from the air
and converts it to more than one half of the oxygen
in the earth's atmosphere

She is the great food provider to the planet
having her own internal food chain
with tiny phytoplankton at the lower end
and enormous sharks and whales at the upper end
She feeds creatures from the land and air
that venture to fish in her waters

She is a thing of beauty even in her enraged fury
with massive waves towering over a hundred feet
and the seething white foam of her waters
This has been her action
even before the advent of man on the planet
Man must respect her behaviour
or suffer death and destruction if he does not

She is a thing of beauty in her calm stillness under the setting sun
which lights up the evening sky in its glorious splendour
and paints a glistening beam of light on the water's surface
in line with the sun and surrounds it
with brilliant colours of the rainbow

He slinks through the forest
nary a leaf stirring in his wake
a powerful cat of great grace
hunted by man for his fur and teeth
his is a solitary life which puts
his future at risk in the wilds
only by mating with another white
will he produce white cubs
he is a stealth hunter
he sneaks up on his prey
quickly snapping its neck
he pulls it into cover
and eats at his leisure
his haunting blue eyes blazing
as he hears a noise nearby
silently he pads of to investigate
no other male will he tolerate
this time its just a female
their territories overlap
once they would have lived far apart
now forced into close contact by man
their habitat now vastly shrunk
no wild sighting have been confirmed
for over 50 years

leaves
beautiful leaves
all shapes an sizes
dancing in the breeze
absorbing
filtering
glistening
long an thin
round
colours astound
how many greens
backdropped against
the summer sky
mesmerising
the wanton eye
searching
for the sun
ever seeking
waiting
for the rain
to quench
their shiny skin
so they can begin
to be leaves
beautiful leaves
once again

A chorus of frogs sing outside my window,
a tell tell sign that Spring draweth nigh,
then suddenly something stops their song,
and I sit here bewildered, wondering "why?"

A few seconds of silence, and then an encore
as if a curtain had been intentionally dropped,
and then on cue it's suddenly raised again,
and frogs once again sing as if never stopped.

One of nature's beautiful mysteries no doubt,
and as I sit here enjoying the poetry of P.C.
the accompaniment of the chorus of frogs,
blesses my reading with completed serenity.

Into oblivion, become extinct you see,
and that is why I go and stand there by the sea
To watch a new day dawn, to see the Godwits rise
To see this very wonderment, right here before my eyes
Why they nest on perma-frost in Alaska or Siberia far away
Feeding on a diet of berries and grubs, a change from diet here,
How they absorb their intestine, for fuel on the flight,
How they stay aloft during the day and through the night ?

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There are so many questions, we have yet to find out
A long enduring study, is now being carried out
With International cooperation, and birders on the ground
Answers to many questions are now truly being found
The adult birds leave their fledglings behind to fend
By themselves, while Mum and Dad hurriedly wend
Ao-tea-roa bound, estuaries and mudflats, to nourish their
Tired bodies, and fatten up again, to begin the cycle o'er again

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This has gone on for aeons, and so I stand amazed
Looking on the wetlands, Watching the sun arise
The changing cloudscape unfolds before my very eyes
God is in His Heavens and reveals a little more
To those who search and ask, he will reveal even more.
So these frail tiny birds some as small as a sparrow
Make the long long journey twice a year
and so I stand and wonder ,
have I made myself clear?

the drums could be heard far away
across the savannah they travelled
spreading, telling the awful news

one village drums talking to another
as much as fifty or so miles away
dreadful news they told the listeners

of the worst drought in living memory
people dying like flies with thirst
animals stuck in mud trying to reach

the last few drops of brackenish water
bloated carcass's everywhere you look
hopeless in people's eyes watching

the drums beat ever louder and faster
but no help can they bring to sufferers
only water can do that, can rejuvenate

bring back life, and fresh greenery for all
now the drum tone changes becomes insistent
rain two hundred miles away will it reach?

soon the rivers burst their banks flooding
in what seems an instance all springs back
that life saving water has rejuvenated all

A single lonely cloud floating by
casting a small shadow on the ground
a shadow that changes as the cloud
is twisted and altered by a breeze

As it slowly moves on, it shape shifts
now a swan but wait a fiery chariot
that thunders by, a forest in the sky
mountains and houses, even a lake

The wind strengthens blowing more
clouds to combine into a shiny city
icicles hang down forming diamonds
that glitter and sparkle in the sunshine

A single lonely cloud floating by
captures my imagination setting it afire
filling me with wonder as I watch it
put on its own spectacular solitary show

Silence is pierced dip of the oar.
Canopy scramble howler alert.
Thicketly dense is natures motherload.
As man approaches the rainforest knows.

Man an the beast both pull up roots.
Two different types.
One has no chutes.
Meanders an winds for ever a day.

Economic reaction decimated fractions.
Howler alarms given un-rest.
Echoed across moss laden vine.
Bottle neck future a matter of time.

The rainforest plague's just the next flat away.
You get what you take an our buried plague too ~

I wake up cold and feel my skin is stiff.
Get up and hunt for hiding slippers.
I turn the thermostat on and feel cool
breath on my cheeks as I breath.
The feeling is unmistakable.
The wind outside is noisey and uninviting.
A chill is in the air and a grey tinge is on all.
The signs of Winter and blanketing of snow are
All around. No animals or birds in sight or in flight
A grey and dreary time of long,long night.
I get on my laptop and search for "Island".
Perhaps a sunny blue vista will warm my body.
Such a silly thought that a picture could
actually warm me or perhaps an act of
desperation while the thermostat slowly climbs.
The sound next door of hammering carries
well in this cooler air.It only cements the
thoughts of frozen locks, cold hands,
shoveling snow and slipping sideways in the driveway.
They say variety is the spice of life.
Canadians must be a whole spice rack...lol