The birds twitter to me
Lullabies abounding with history’s words
Of what had been passed on
From the ancestors to modern birds,

Their miniature minds
Carry great knowledge full of wisdom,
These flapping creatures
Import instructions, morals, and lessons,

Their amiable advice
Hangs on angelic feathers
Waiting to be touched by compassionate hearts
And intermingle their blessed spirits with ours,

They were created given the powers
To see through the soul’s leaks
Allowing their whispers full of emotions
To tumble off their bitsy beaks,

Their tiny eyes
Delivered a welcoming reaction
Yet they teared of dew drops
Weeping over its habitat’s destruction,

They wistfully watched from above
Looking at the restricting skyscrapers,
Oh! What have become
Of its ethereal home’s flavors?!

It’s evergreen forests and long rivers
Stolen by slabs of concrete and machines,
Human’s army of axes hunt nature
And even though nature is worthy of living
Humans choose to slaughter its features,

Nature sheltered humans
And was there for them in their time of need
Yet as a thank you
They abandoned its pleads,

It is tortured for the mistakes it never committed,
And humans, should learn to accept nature
As it had accepted them and adapted,
And even though nature is perpetually dying
It smiles to them whenever they’re near or baited.

Rivers of birdsong
Are enchanting the forest
Flowing through the leaves

Vexren4000 May 14

The puppeteers,
Of war and finances,
Perpetuated the Plight,
Placed upon Our People,
Places, Lost we have the gods good graces,
And in our infinite paces,
We find no rest in our worn down spaces.

Alaric Moras May 13

I burn for you
In places you have never known
The sweet expanse that is my chest
Thumping painfully
Uncharted territory that rises and falls
Second for every second that you do not calm it
With your ploughing teeth

My neck is wreathed in
Your kisses never given
The ocean folds of it
Rippling for want of
The moon of your smile
In darkest night

My sinew arms creaking
Like a forest rustling
The liquid lap of your
Sweet tongue
Dripping dewdrop desire
Into parched elbows

My body is a land entombed
Without your blessed breathing
Fogging its locked grounds

When you finally find yourself
At my doorstep
Brave enough to conquer a land
Flat chested, hard, briny
You will find that
Someone else has wet these terrains
And love grows like lush
On every part of me
Worth touching

pluviophile May 11

Splashes of colors,
Green, blue, red, brown,
Contrast perfectly,
Beautiful, from the sky to the ground.

Cotton candy blue,
Flow in the sky,
Soft white clouds,
Wave hi and bye.

Leaves standing in the glamorous sun,
Rustling and bustling,
Scents from mint to pine,
Hues from lime to sea-green.

Branches and stems,
Standing out haughtily,
Standing strong,
And cowering weakly.

Wildflowers stretching out,
Pulling us in,
Defining the word beauty,
Brushing us in the shins.

A fresh, clear lake,
Glittering like scattered gems in the sun,
Lapping back and forth,
Until the winds were done.

Gentle creeks,
Yapping and happy,
To be free,
Flowing rapidly.

Night is settling,
Darkness comes,
Full of mystery,
And “what ifs” and “somes”.

Mist is flooding
The trees,
The bridge,
Tickling like a light breeze.

Chirps and hoots,
Scampers and swoops,
Critters stare at me,
Not letting out a single whoop.

Squirrels stir,
The sun is rising,
Blood red,
Bathing everything in lighting.

Splashes of colors,
Green, blue, red, brown,
Contrast perfectly,
Beautiful, from the sky to the ground.

Micaiah W May 11

Looking down into the valley from the mountain high
I can finally breathe again
I smell the fresh air and it smells like springtime again
I no longer fear for my soul,
No longer feeling the chill of imminent danger again

As I stand there looking at the forest below
I see the life I left behind me
I see the trees, the vines that tried to bind me
I see the leaves of the forest which hid me from the son, tried to blind me

I stand proud on top my mountain
I think about the snakes, the wolves that hissed and howled, told me that I'd never leave
That tried to take my joy every time I started to believe

The trees spoke, they said,
run run as fast you can, can you get out alive
will you fall or will you stand.
I burst through the last trees and I started to climb
No end in sight but to get away from my past it was time

The climb was nothing short of sublime
But anytime you begin to climb, physically and mentally prepare for it's wartime
All your old demons will call you, like your primetime on a hotline
See your past will not make it easy for you to be free....

But I get to the top, and what do I see,
all my old demons at the bottom, looking up at me
I turn around to embrace my new destiny amazed by what I saw
A whole new forest....waiting for me.

Life is about constant growth

Tiptoe through forests
of lollipop trees
and play with cotton candy bunnies

Climb rock candy mountains
Jump in chocolate syrup puddles

I wear a little yellow raincoat
to keep me dry
from the cream soda raindrops

So many sweet things
live in this wonderland

Things like you

Why would anyone want to leave

Vexren4000 May 8

A cabin in the trees,
Hidden with so much ease,
Only time will tell,
Who doth live in the cabin?
Hidden, tucked away in these darkened wood.

Jake M May 8

The next time you wander through
the Forest,
give attention to
what makes it live.

From towering oak trunk to timid
wisps of grasses,
blows through.

Though rampant branches jut
in chaotic cacophony,
wind calms the fray:
harmonic, swaying, symphony.

To refer to Wind by her name
seems almost unfitting.
Product of the sun itself,
impossible to be un-felt,

Wind pervades.
She's a comforting breeze on a calm day,
who soothes whatever goes wrong,
forever on the mind when she's gone.

Perhaps Wind could be better called
by a name that captures all
her beautiful, ceaseless soul,
twisting through life.

My Love,
they should call the wind


a poem written for my first love

I want to hold you
And trap you in the sap of these pines
Because I know you would not run,
You find beauty in the ugliest of places.

I want to lock you in a cedar box
And leave you be until you beg my name
Because I know you like the smell,
You always were more with nature than I.

I want to hang you up in a great oak
For the whole world to see
Because I know you think you're wretched,
But you're beautiful to me.

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