Last Commented Nature Poems (1,977)

I’m just sitting here
Waiting for the tide
Knocked off early
No place I’d rather hide
There’s a howling easterly
Whitecaps everywhere
But it’s very soothing
So I thought I’d share
I’m perched on driftwood
Ten feet long
Surrounded by a forest
That doesn’t belong
Coal ships sit
Thirty miles out
All in a line
Waiting for a shout
There’s people riding
And walking along
The harbour wall
It attracts a throng
The sea is
A deep blue green
And far too the south
The coal terminal can be seen
Kite surfers enjoy
All that they can
Billowing coloured sails
All part of the plan
There’s a race happening
Along the beach
As the dad chases
Kids out of reach
Lifesavers are packing up
It’s time call it a day
As the ink just falls
From my pen today
I’ll just sit
For a little longer
Enjoy what’s left
To make me stronger
Drink this beautiful
Part of the world in
To soothe the soul
And polish my grin .......

Walking in the autumn sun
A touch of cold in the air
Waiting leaves one by one
Fall to the ground unaware

Past the white picket fence
Nothing can stop their fall
Downward will commence
The last golden kiss of all

Tossed in a growing breeze
They tussle with our mind
As gentle as a feather please
Will rests with all its kind

Till a gentle snow will come
Pressing and matting down
Begin to fade and glum
Will soon become all brown

Then only a few still cling
Such that rattle in the night
When a soft breeze bring
An end to all their plight

Hints of green, sway in the breeze
gentle and fragile, thoughts tease
Winter ends, as buds burst forth
Seasonal proof, we're well on course

Lifting spirits, with bright skies ahead
Sun is warming, dormant flower beds
Colour will herald, vibrations of spring
Allowing natural pleasure, emotions sing

Chill after dark, our patience is taught
Nature not for sale, cannot be bought
So every morning, we welcome a new day
Lightness develops, soon forgotten drab grey

Soon to be discarded, heavy weights of cloth
Replaced by light cottons, the flutter of moth
Until beautiful Butterflies, add to the scene
Colour spectacular, on background of green

Miraculous, munificent
your amber waves doth glow.
Of gaseous masses,
planets far-an other worldly show.
Round and gold and beautiful

You make my
senses shine.
Oh mother moon your lustrous
and magnificently divine.

The chirping goes on and on
As gentle rain showers fall
Hunters in the moonlight prowl
Everything grows silent now
Then slowly one by one they go
As soon as danger has past
Till once again across the meadow
That chorus of crickets grow
Moaning that late summer sorrow
Unseen into darkness bellows
When our eyes rest our ears follow
September's gathering clans
Till a mind rests as one of them
Growing sleepy in the hollows
Till first frost spoil all their plans
When growing winds will whistle
Across the tops of drying thistles
Till that first soft blanket of snow

Resting gently its colorful wing
What if a butterfly could sing
Sleeps the bumble bee in the grass
Waiting for the night to pass
Shining like a blazing gem
Marches a beetle down a stem
Hovering and buzzing near the shed
A dragonfly zigs and zags ahead
Dangling patterns in the breeze
A spider weaves a web with ease
Casting shadows on the ground
Billowing clouds all around
Here comes the rising sun
Another late summer day has begun

What is simple anymore
Long paddles down rocky shorelines
Light winds and little waves
Cedar roots clinging to life
Struggling to survive
Solitude and nature
Strength and struggles
Clinging to life, clinging to hope
A piece of bone or pottery
Long discarded
A long time ago
Washed smooth
A once jagged edge
Worn down by time
Resting in the sand

I'd rather go home
and live up a tree
than to be dry forever
and forget the 'ol sea

and I'd rather go hungry
than eat on the street
than miss every wave
and places they meet

I'd rather live in a hole
and stare at the stars
than live in the veins
of buses and cars

and I'd rather leave you
than live in the town
where the air is a stranger
and you wear the 'ol frown

I'd rather not laugh
if the cost was too much
If I never felt salt
in the places we touch

and I'd rather take truth
that a palace of lies
as time is an arrow
and flawless she flies

I'd rather hold you
than own your whole soul
and I'd rather go hungry
than live on the dole

and I'd rather grow old
that to be young in chains
as the sea has my heart
and it always remains

Under a burning sky
of misty morn
Diamond tears on roses
form
Dewdrops falling in sad
farewell
Peddles wilting in
summers swell
Beauty untold by
writers pen
Fades to twilight at
seasons end
And though her teardrops
kiss a loving hand
The weeping rose shall
rise again~

The lonely hydrangea, on a shelf
In a pot
It was not
Where he wanted to be.
For he had aspirations
Beside the carnations
In a bed more befitting to he.

Where bees fill their pockets
And foxgloves hold sway,
He'd grace
Such a place
One fine day.

In shadows of orchards green,
Dappled light,
Apples bright,
He would be part of the scene.

But alas came his Autumn, and blue
Turned to brown
Barren gown
Showing winter was due.

How sad his last bow
In the night,
Waxen light
Of a moon pale, will not wake him now.