Most Liked Nature Poems (1,977)

Fast to fly, flock of birds
Beating chrome wings, casting shadows
Over golden meadows
I stand still, gazing skyward
Wondering why, to realize
What will hypnotize

First to fall, frozen white stars
Descending downward, touching ground
Without any sound
I feel hushed, numbing cold
Shivering calm, to discover
My soul will hover

Nothing at all, answers me at last
Walking homeward, dying daylight
My lonesome plight
I fall silent, darkness pervades
Replacing life, will ever imbue
The secrets I knew

Walking through the sweet flower meadows, I pause to watch the sky lark
as he tumbles joyously in the sunlit sky and perches on a branch
to sing in such sweet melody that mistle thrush and blackbird join in.

Flowers smelling sweet
in such a variety
of colour and shape

A peaceful place to sit and enjoy all nature has to offer
to lean back and let go of every day stress and woes. To
celebrate just the joy of being alive and able to enjoy nature

Nature does her best
if only we care to look
at all her splendours



written 09/21/2013

There's a house upon a hill
With a view that's breathless still
In the valley below
The echo is so surreal

No way to describe happiness inside
Forever to feel,for love was built
In the house upon a hill

The sound of the breeze
Has a home in the trees
And the buzz of honey bees
Lingers amoung the daffodills

Sunlight and moonlight
The peace they reveal
On the path that leads too
The house upon a hill

the magnificent river
coming down the mountainside
spreading out in its majesty
as it moves towards the ocean
then rising up to the cloud
from where it condenses
on the mountain
as snow or rain
that ends up in the river
repeating the glorious cycle
- the essence of nature

alone....
as I have no past, I have no future.
far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, their somber wishes never learned to stray, along the cool sequestered vale of life, they kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
yes! in the sea of life inisled, with echoing straits between us thrown, dotting the shoreless watery wild, we mortal millions live alone.
do you believe in the life to come?: mine was always that.
o born in days when wits were fresh and clear, and life ran gaily as the sparkling river. before this strange disease of modern life, with it's sick hurry, it's divided aims, it's heads o'ertaxed, it's palsied hearts, was rife fly hence, our contact fear!
the unbought grace of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise is gone. that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honour, which felt a stain like a wound, which enobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half it's evil, by losing all it's grossness.
you will think me lamentably crude: my experience of life has been drawn from life itself.
for all men have one entrance into life, and the like going out.
to pass over youth in dull indifferance, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day may be old. for my part, my youth may wear and waste, but it shall never rust in my possession.
all animals, except man, know the principal business of life is to enjoy it.
our life is determined for us and it makes the mind very free when we give up wishing and only think of bearing what is laid upon us and doing what is given us to do.
as I stared the assorted meannesses and failed promises of life straight in the face...they stared back.
I put the muzzle of the revolver into my right ear and pulled the trigger.
I was out by one.
I remember an extraordinary sense of jubilation, as if carnival lights had been switched on in a drab street.
my heart knocked in it's cage, and life contained an infinite number of possibilities.
so......
what three of all shall I entertain, or shall entertain me?
I am ignorant of absolute truth, but I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honour and my reward.
I'll take the sea, the sun, and the sand.

I come from nest on ridge top high,
I speak with such a shrill cry,
And soar out into the blue sky,
To search with a sharp eye.

For thirty miles I fly around,
Or float like in a dream,
Past woods and fields; all common ground,
Follow a river upstream.

Till last my flight is now complete,
When my prey comes in my sight,
A banquet of fresh blood and meat,
Meet my talons I will smite.

I cry out fear before I plunge,
For panic is my good friend,
At last I swoop my wings and lunge,
For death comes quick in the end.

With strong curved beak I snap and tear,
Ripping clean through fur and hide,
The still throbbing heart of the hare,
Staring up with its eyes wide.

And here and there a muffled moan,
Such a whimpering poor soul,
A raptor by its fierceness known,
Only hunger to console.

Wandering along the winding trail I watch as hawks play
ducking and diving, swooping and tumbling and climbing
up again, making a magnificent display backed by their
shrill cries to each other

Riding the thermals
climbing up in unison
wild spirits air bound

They have three fledglings to rear, so back to hunting
they go, sharp eyes spotting the rustle in the undergrowth
wings folded they plunge down like raining bullets
striking hard they carry it back to the nest to feed the chicks

Three fluffy small chicks
baby plumage now changing
they look so scruffy

Now fully feathered they flap and stretch their wings
then first one takes to wing finding it hard to land
it misses its mark a few times, at last alighting
undignified on a branch

New generation
one day they too will have chicks
and so the cycle goes

Look around you at the changing leafs, the beauty of the swaying trees. The endless ocean and seas, bringing with them such peace. There is beauty all around. Listen and hear the sound of nature and her beauty abound.

The sun goes down a little quicker than before. The ocean screams outloud with a roar. Summer has left and Fall is here. I am missing the summer but it is not that time of the year. Still, all the sun and fun I missed. I long by the sun to be kissed.

I will enjoy each and everyday. Even though Winter will soon be on it's way. Let it snow so that I can play. I'll build and snowman or slide on a sleigh. No matter what to me, it will be one blessed day!

As sails,full with wind,they fill the sky; wandering aimlessly,lazily floating through the night. Familiar images in there shapes leaving dreams of some, fictitiously wild that I rember as a child. Clouds of somber hue, wind driven not knowing what way to go,leaving your treasured downpour pounding with all your worth. Earth crying for no more rain. overfilling,flooding rath was your aim. leaving human tears in your wake for all that you did take. A new day is born and all will the sun adorn bringing courage for new life, rebuliding what was lost.

They come in
All shapes and sizes
A rose bud
A bulb of life
In its own cacoon hidden

Waiting to be born
In its deapths holding its new born
The seeds
New life waitng to be born

In the darkness buried not so deep
Wanting for the rain and sunshine
The warmth of the spring day
From bulb to adult flower


Grows taller day by day
Into the light emergess its stem
Open it flowery head
Petals glare in the sun

Fully grown it asurbs the light the heat
Waiting for the water the giver of life
The sun flower is born
It begins its life