Last Commented Nature Poems (1,977)

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”

Author - Mary Oliver

She has a face that shines with emotions,
She watches from afar with admiration for creation.
She holds secrets of centuries old,
Of love and lost as time unfold.
She has seen places we can only dream to see,
Felt the stillness of the Valley and heard the roaring of the sea.
Her gown of silver spreads light across the mountain,
Her jet black hair into which diamonds of stars are woven.
She has seen it all...wars,love,life death.
Still she has not given up hope for mankind as yet.
For as dusk gives way and in the dark sky she stands.
She smiles down on lovers holding hands.

Every flower must grow through some dirt
Such as the struggle of life knows notoriously
When whisks of winds cloud the half moon
Such tepid swirling of gases are heated
An overhead sun burning so gloriously
All at once in a mid-summertime dream
All attention is drawn or so it seems
Pushes its fragile canopy towards the sky
Escaping from its confines working laboriously
Until at last with as much proper notice taken
Very rare and beautified can not be mistaken
Comes a pleasure earned so meritoriously
And a feeling of joy shared so victoriously

The setting sun, the welcomed dawn
Sunlight creeping, over fresh cut lawn
Light twinkles, from on high and masked
Through canopy of trees, that won't last

Shadows and breeze, ripple and play
Change concept, throughout the day
Twilight halts, like a candle snuffs
Allowing darkness, over earth to brush

Time to rest, many consider sleep
Replacing energy, enthusiasm leap
Creatures and humans, need time
Nature works her magic, sends sign

Never sleeps, as seasons change
Spring, summer, autumn, winter range
Add rain, sun, wind and snow
Nature's schedule, as we all know

Never resting, cycle goes on
Like many lovers, express in song
Beauty gifted, acknowledged in awe
For all to experience, as emotions soar

Thousands of shards
Glass worn smooth
By the passage
Of time
Washed up in sand
Many colors
Reflecting the sun
As I walk by
Once long ago
Part of something
Whole
Thousands of nights
Dreams come true
As only dreams
Make believe
What was real
Once long ago
Coming true
Under the stars
Old
Thousands of days
My body
Makes restless
Steady as hope
Awake
Swept up
Into dust
Tiny speckles
Made solid into
Gold
Thousands of flames
Burning into ash
Rising from fire
Lighter than air
I see them glow
And sparkle
A brief moment
Flying up then
Falling back down
Cold

Nothing compares, to that brisk, bright day
When the warming sun, chases cold away
Making, frozen thoughts scurry and lost
Wrapping up warm, is the obvious cost

As the sun shines through, naked trees
Hinting of a warmer day, breeze runs free
Grateful for the sunshine, that won't last
But for a few hours, bright smiles are caste

They strayed below the greening hills to love. He'd show her how,
When breezes raised her tumbling hair and kissed her fevered brow,
to rise above and float the larks suspended in the air
who'd sing the tune of wakening upon the lady fair.


They warbled tunes of ancient things that could not stay her feet
upon the meadow. Feathered wings the right percussion beat.
She danced a pathway to the place whereon he was to lie
with her, there slide himself upon her body, 'till they'd cry.


He watched, enchanted, as the wind took up his favoured place,
Soft kissing breaths upon her skin blushed bright her shy young face.
The sun burst cloud. Its brilliant hue glass-stained her eyes, to flame
the rivers bubbling in her veins, Ignite her pliant frame.

Dried grasses scratched their love lines on her legs. As she spun round
shed scattered seeds upon her thighs. Her laugh the only sound
above the rustling of the leaves, where bowing trees swayed near,
to catch and brush her wind-frilled skirts, and whisper in her ear.


Quite shaken with the wonder of this ecstasy, she lay
upon the flowers, trembling still, and pondered their display.
She sprawled now cooling limbs, then to restore a measured calm,
raised limp lids. Seeing him still there, she lifted outstretched palm.


The beauty of her graceless gait aquiver, filled his eyes,
near burst his heart asunder, as he helped his love to rise,
all glowing still. She whispered low, "pure beauty led the way".
He, smiling, acquiesced, conceding nature her foreplay....

There was a squirrel that I did see,
Spent all his time in a tiny tree,
A short shrub really,
No bigger than a bush,
Everyone that saw it, thought it
was bigger than it was,
After a time the tree was trimmed,
Till nobody lived in the tree but him,
All alone with noone to hold,
The squirrel died lonely and cold,
There's a moral to this story,
As anyone can see,
Don't spend all your time in a tiny tree...

That special time of day, when a red glow
Appears in the distance, as pace slows
As a candle, flickers from light and bright
To fade, as nature snuffs day and light

Areas of ruby colour, will not last long
The sun dies, and soon will be gone
Leaving brief dusk, that turns to dark
Birds stop chattering, until morning lark

Starts the cycle, as a new day begins
Chorus of waking birds, joyously sing
Dews melts, as the rising sun rays
Stream across earth, welcoming a day

Bringing hope, in every form to all
Sunshine, or maybe rain will fall
Nature decides, as life goes on
Animal and plant life, sharing its song.....

I have not seen you out for many a night,
what happened to you, my nocturnal friend?
You used to be a common evening sight,
but now those sightings have come to an end.

The only time I ever see you now
is when behind my steering wheel I’m sat,
and you are sprawled out on the road quite flat.
I wish you could avoid that fate somehow.

As soon as darkness fell you would be out,
on summer evenings you were always there,
foraging in hedgerows with your snout;
since then your nightly outings are but rare.

You curled into a ball when I came near
and straightened out again when I had gone.
I was no threat to you, my prickly one,
my presence did not need to cause you fear.

In gardens out of harm’s way at nightfall,
I wish you’d kept to your own habitat.
Better by far you curl into a ball
than get hit by a lorry and be flat.