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lilac Nov 2020
there's this boy,
dark hair, light-brown skin,
his eyes warm like a campfire,
with my melting marshmallow heart,
my fever for him grows, i love him,
squished between the graham crackers of guilt,
because i love her as well.

-lilac
SiouxF Aug 2020
The woods are calling
Calling my name
Come to us
Be with us
Be one with us

So I packed up my tent and my Ghillie Stove
Put my hiking boots on
And made my way
Into the deep dark woods
The magnificent majestic ancient woods
Full of beech, oak and hornbeam

I felt at peace once again
Amongst my friends
The tree spirits
And wood nymphs.
The realisation of just how at home I feel in the woods, and now I’ve missed it so
SiouxF Aug 2020
Pitch black.
Black as night.
Blacker than black.
All is silent.
Eerily
silent.
Deathly
silent.
Waiting.
Fearing.
Expecting...
the worse.

The wind whistling,
winding itself
through
the trees,
seductively,
assertively,
aggressively.
Tension
building.
Coming
closer.
Gathering
pace.
Leaves
quiver.
Trees
shake.
A flash
of lightening.
A piercing
crack.
Dead above.
Eyes
wide.
Heart
stopped.
Frozen.

Then just as abruptly as it arrived, its gone.
Leaving the rain behind.
Pitter,
patter,
plop
on the tent canvas.
Soothing.
Calming.
Zzzzzz.

Dawn comes.
Birds sing.
Fresh morning dew.
All's well in the world once more.

Til the next time....
I wrote this while wild-ish camping and just loved the energy of the storm on my first night. This is my first ever attempt at a poem - as an adult!
K E Cummins Jun 2020
Restless Ulysses calling seaward
Wave-crest and trough on water
Bark seal slap rush
Carve one sweep, two sweep
Push and the wayfarer
Boot, back, and shoulder
A life neatly bundled going on
On and on and on; wander
Because no god is present
Without vastness, surrender
Fire lick crackle burn driftwood blue
On the sand in the gravel
And restless sailor calling seaward
Take the horizon to break
Spine and sinew ironmonger
The old and elderly will fondly remember
These days when we were strong
And the stars unobscured by smoke
Casey Rodger Jun 2020
I see the clouds above me,
They're floating in the sky,
I wonder what they see,
And wonder why they cry.

I listen to the fire,
While sitting in its glow,
Not a thing does it require,
But wood for it to grow.

Gently does the breeze,
Whisper to my skin,
I wander if the trees,
Mind about the wind.

I will not shut my eyes,
Wont miss one part of this,
The sun is giving the skies,
A loving goodnight kiss.
Tangerine May 2020
π‘”π“π‘œπ“Œπ’Ύπ“ƒπ‘” π‘’π“‚π’·π‘’π“‡π“ˆ
𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝒢𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 π‘œπ’» π’·π“Šπ“‡π“ƒπ’Ύπ“ƒπ‘” π“Œπ‘œπ‘œπ’Ή
𝒢𝓃 π‘œπ“Œπ“ π’½π‘œπ‘œπ“‰π“ˆ
𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒢𝓃 π“ˆπ“‚π’Ύπ“π‘’π“ˆ
π’Έπ‘œπ“ƒπ“‰π‘’π“ƒπ“‰
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