Most Liked Nature Poems (1,977)

If you do not read this then how do you know what I feel

If you skip on by without a word then how do I know how you feel

Time is only short, do not look back as it is gone

Putting time into the past is only a waste of time

Coming to new time is to find what is new

So many roads to take but no time to journey

I strive for tomarro however time is short

Turn to the right an then the left and no time

Standing under a big clock and still no time

Oh why not take the chance as time is a chance...

Look at my stately stature and bright
Colours of lilac, green, pink and bold
Reflections of a shady shimmer of light
You cast when you venture out looking for gold,
Blinding me with your torch in the dark of night.
Beware of deception when you behold
My solemn disguise and when you delight
In beauties and visions squeezed into the mould
Of your wishful mind, and things that might
Not be as they seemed when fables foretold
How everything would be all right
If you came close and reached to hold
My tender hand which from sheer fright
Would harden as my angst would fold
Its leaves to leave a fist clenched tight
Smashing our dreams of warmth to spiny cold.
For only bees who return to me despite
My sticky pollen to drink my ripened old
Nectar may take a rest from their flight
On my petals. So if you too want my gold
Be patient and gentle - and touch me not quite.

The sun kissed West
In romance dressed
The home of the summer snows
Where the wily camp bird builds it's nest
In the land where the cowgirl grows.

The rope keeps time
To the hoof beats rhyme
And the tanning breeze that blows
From youth to age man's at his prime
In the land where the cowgirl grows.

There circle race
And fall to place
As the lariat she throws
Across the blue flit clouds of lace
In the land where the cowgirl grows.

She's blithe and brown
She fears no town
And laughs wherever she goes
It's there they help the man that's down-
In the land where the cowgirl grows.

They sing by rote
And swear by note
In the home of the sun's repose;
But it's ladies first, when they go to ride
In the land where the cowgirl grows.

November 4, 2007


Subtle shape shifters, spirits of water magic,
kin of the wind since time was very young.
The secrets of the ancients, known to earth and sky,
praised by human voices - earth spirit song.

Each bird, and every creature to crawl or fly,
speaks in its own way to share this grand tale.
The magic that welcomes every dawn with a sigh,
parting two worlds through a thin misty veil.

Spirits of thriving vine and wise grandfather tree -
spirits of the meadows, marshlands and field.
Mountain spirits whisper to virgin lakes and streams,
worlds unto themselves, untouched and concealed.

Deep caves, high cliffs and spirits of thundering surf,
carry forth mist where plump blackberries grow.
Earth spirits of root, leaf, bark and fertile soil,
entwined in sacred rhythm, life's unending flow.

Spirits of cloud, of equal seasons and weather,
touch every living thing, each day and night.
They turn the crisp pages of history's making;
the journey awaiting each of us to write.

I can feel the danger, tingling my nerves
It is like a voice in the air shouting at me
Shouting silently, no words but still warning me
And in response my whole body tenses

What is it ... what is this danger I feel?
Warily I cast my eyes about ... searching
Nothing, there is nothing to see ... yet
But I KNOW ... somewhere there is danger

There is a faint breeze from the north
I tentatively sniff the air ... nothing there
Slowly, thoroughly I survey my surroundings
What is causing this imminent feeling of danger

A meadow stretches ahead of me, green and lush
Here and there are dotted scraggly low bushes
The meadow is carpeted with multi coloured flowers
And in the far distance a lone gnarled tree

Still nothing ... and yet ... there is something
I trust my feelings but I have to move
Slowly ... cautiously ... I move into the open
There, now I am totally exposed, vulnerable

Then I see it, a shadow moving on the ground
In the sky the hunter had patiently waited for me
She dives for me, talons first, ready to kill
But I anticipated and I am gone, back to cover

Too often I have to play this game in life
This game that is called survival
I have a family that I need to feed
As does she, but thankfully today not with me

Fog fills my valley
With empty chills
No searching eyes
Nor raptors calls
Quiet is perched
On branch so still
Waiting out silence
On ground below
Drab yellow orb dull
Cast only eerie glows
With no place to go
Moving rivers slows
Earthly sleep bestows

This monkey you
see was hungry.
He squirmed
down the drain
to where he saw
a box of cupcakes
right before him
with no one around.
He grabbed the box
and went up the
drain to the roof
to see what dinner
laid before thee.
He unwrapped them
1, 2, 3 he was
very happy.
He had gotten
something sweet
to eat for today
and maybe enough
for tomorrow too
for he knew he
would be hungry.

Morning light calling
together our voices raised
sweet heavenly sound

I can be your friend when needed
But shy and quiet am I
Long ears that help me listen
Private with my emotions,
But loyal to a fault
I may appear a bit withdrawn
But I freely give my heart
I tend to avoid confrontation
With friends I make amends
I scamper to hide when I’m scared
My cotton tail twitching all about

No peace for me,
Let the world end,
Let the pain of others remain,
Let the men of wars dies,
Let the children of the world cries,
Where famine and broken families lies,
No peace ,for you ,and you and me!

We never listen,
We never learn,
We always question,
All words ,no deeds or actions!

What can one man,woman,
Or child make a difference...!
Lots of courage
And alot more
Stubbornness,
Is what you really need.
Not from one or ten to twenty,
But a score of hundred voices to plea...
Come join forces If you want global peace!

Not for me, peace,
I would rather sleep...