Last Commented Nature Poems (1,977)

THE BROOK THAT BABBLES

Slivers of sunlight flit through the trees
Orchestral manoeuvres, shadows of leaves waltz in the light
Willows, ferns and lilies majestically bow and pay homage
All stand in awe of the Creator of the brook that babbles

Frolicking, giggling, winding, crystal clear waters run gleefully like children
Gliding over smooth boulders and stone, shaped through patience and time
Dispersing currents divide, swirling in crevices, playing hide and seek
Cold, fresh water spills over my naked feet and I cannot help but smile

Protective branches, a mother’s embrace, overshadow this giver of life
Yet she outruns these rooted giants, congregating later in sun reflected pools
Rocks of ages stand sentry both along and inside this brook that babbles
Multi coloured silhouettes uniquely fingerprinted, textured and sized

And our Creator said … “It is good” and mankind smiled heavenward
Nothing man-made can ever compare to God’s perfect beauty in nature
I stand humming in this rivulet, birds flutter and sing in the trees
A gracefully spun spider’s web glistens with dew drops
And I am grateful for this remarkable brook that babbles

Little snowdrops hiding where you are,
Straighten your stalks and open up.
Spring is coming fast, hear the creeks?
Winter vainly tries to check its speed.

Winter's slack and aging very quick,
Look at pretty blossoms, bright and brisk.
Sky's in fluffy clouds, gray and white,
It is still so early, listen, crack of ice.

Spring, hold on, it is not your time,
Wait till winter turns over and dies.

That old dead grass is burning
Along the hillock's gully
With all those rocky outcrops
Its smoke lifts up and o’er the fields
The earth still damp and flattened
Clumped from winter's burden
And a vanished blanket of snow
Now exposed and thickly matted
Freeze dried and turned brown
Soon to be fringed with black ashes
Dozens of these trailing plumes
Rising up and down the valley
One by one as I watch 'em burn
Their smells now watering my eyes
Now making my clothes smell
A controlled burn billowing smoke
Fanned by such gentle breezes
Blowing on this first day of spring
Slowing waiting now to turn green

Special time, when stillness rules
Darkness will come, as nature pulls
Towards twilight, that will snuff light
Until that moment, daytime will fight

Giving sight, over the time of day
Lightness fading, towards light grey
Peaceful quiet, tells of the change
When work is done, and a new range

Of activities and sleep, waiting on cue
After the twilight colours, different hue
Sprinkle the land, with that special dust
As golden shade, turns fast to rust

Before darkness, will cloak the land
Over hills, valleys, water and sand
A time to refresh, building strength
As daily cycle, works through its length

Dawn chorus begins

Courtships and squabbles songs cease

Evening regains peace

the ultimate sound
permeating all others
the sound of silence

I am the word.
I am definition.
I am the expression of thought which can fill or forge a silence, and I am essential to your world.

I am baby's first, and everyone's last.
I am the reason for the ear.
I am acceptance and wishing well, or what someone needs to hear.

I am a whisper told in secret.
I am an angry shout.
I am the song of every emotion, and I can wound ego, convey trust, wield hatred; and I can tell every story - paragraph and verse.

I can make you laugh.
I am the unsaid, and sometimes I am what cannot be unsaid.
I am crystal clear, and I am misunderstood.
I am lost in translation.

I am truth - naked, loving, selfish and unkind.
I am cold and calculating hurt, but I can rescue you with lies.
I am what you tell yourself, and what can help you change your mind.
I can build you up, or tear you down, let you see or keep you blind.

I am what you're lost for, or on the tip of your tongue, and in case you haven't noticed - what you're looking at right now.
I am sorry and forgiveness, and their topsy-turvy neither.
I can fail you in advice, or I can guide you with some wisdom.

I can turn friends into enemies, and enemies into friends.
I am the catalyst for memories when you speak - " remember when? "
I am from the minds of tyrants, and from the hearts of decent men.
I am the word.
I am the toil of the writer, and I am mightier than the pen.

Once more we see the signs of the restart
as nature wakens plants with her magic art.
We laugh as at long last winter does depart
leaving us full of joy and light of heart.

Leafy branches conceal from sight the hart
by the still pond bees and dragonflies dart.
The lovers dreamily stare then drift apart
startled as one of the cows gives off a fart.

The posy opens slyly showing off its blackheart
only to be smothered by the nettle upstart.
The cook is busy making a large fruit tart
while in the parlour the cows gives us a quart.

Spring so full of promise show us your heart
as you bring vibrant life and a brand new start.
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2018

Around the lake edge, a circle to walk
Some with a friend, laugh and talk
Others like solitude, adsorbing the scene
Lake sparkling blue, surrounded by green

Little rest areas, signposted to assist
Those taking a break, some will resist
Refreshing bodies, taking in the view
Smiling at strangers, acknowledged on cue

A track not a footpath, allows all to walk
Or cycle if careful, where high above a hawk
Swoops-floats, enjoys being alive and free
Above a nature reserve, dotted by trees

Boats skim water, hired for a short time
Whether fishing or sailing, on a day so fine
Families or solo can relax, recharge in fresh air
Sharing nature's beauty, with other who care.

A gift not packaged, by shiny baubles- bows
Just nature's flowers, seasonal wind will sow
Rubbish bins-warnings, remind not to leave
Making others waste time, when collect-retrieve......

I watch as sunlight dapples through the branches
How it dances on top of deep pools o' a stream
Mesmerizing me much into my surroundings
These are always the colors found in my dreams
Time exposes all their dull mustards and deep reds
All the various hues of brown and green, blue and grey
Twisting and folded soil layers and exposing clays
The color and tone laying like carpets along these banks
In awe of such shining and dullness found together
Found in the pebbles and stones scattered by their ranks
The jagged outstretched roots overhanging forever
Torn out of the earth and bleached away like bones
Skeltons left behind half buried by a spring flood
Still grasping and clinging to hold on to where it once grow'n
Letting my imaginary brush taste even the clay and mud
That paints away such a rich tapestry I’ve known