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Caroline Jul 10
I won’t chisel a spirit to make
It resemble some other Formation,
Like the sculptors of the faces On the rocks.
I love the mountains more
When their jagged edges and Sun-kissed outcrops
Create patterns all their own;
Granite spires, volcanically Windblown,
Unabashedly wild,
No artist’s signature
Laying claim to the beautiful Potential of the stone;
Only the forces of the
Universe
Determine our growth.
Like Crazy Horse,
I want to be brave,
Paint streaks of lightning on
My face;
Look to the mountains and Scream,
I love you
Just like that,
Untamed.
Inspired by the Black Hills.
Paul Hansford Apr 2016
I have looked at sunsets as long as they lasted
the reds and the golds and the pinks of them
the play of light on the edges of clouds
the changing shadows over the land.
I have watched the sea steadily rolling in wave after wave
breaking against the rocks with the energy of distant storms
or gently lapping at softer shores.
I have gazed up at the brilliance
of a black night of stars million upon million
no moon to dim their richness.
I have seen the hidden blues and greens in a slow river of ice.
I have known forests and mountains.

I have known you also and you no less
are part of the universe.  I can admire
the changing sky in the colour of your eyes
the moving sea in the curve of your neck
the wonder of an opening rosebud
in the crook of your elbow.
There is an audio recording of myself reading this poem on Youtube.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=detNC95rvO0
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
To be in love.
Her heart was a hill that I climbed with slippery soles.
To be still in the moments of encouragement.
I'd slide down unable to catch my footing.
I acknowledge that I wasn't dressed for the occasion.
Still persisting to climb.
To be in love.
The valley of dream & hope.
I tied my shoes tighter.
My hands filled with grit and grass.
No matter how hard I tried I constantly slid down.
The sky a beautiful mix of orange and blue.
Her love was a sight I longed to see.
The meadow to low to catch the best view.
Everything she has to offer.
I tossed through mud and dirt.
Learning patience in every attempt, the closer I got.
She'd open her arms wide.
And each time I'll fall face first.
Still determined I didn't cease to stop.
I spent a lot of time there.
Lost in a valley of fog.
To afraid to ask for help.
Scared that my secret valley would no longer be my own.
That everything serene.
Everything that I loved would be modernized, torn apart piece by piece.
No matter how many times I slip.
No matter how many times I fall.
I love everything ,
Still persisting to climb.
Learning patience with each step
Mane Omsy Apr 2017
Then it chirped
for a long time
It spread its wings
and flew away
The squirrel grabbed
and looked at it
Stared for a while
With a deep breath
She took a bite
It seemed delicious
The sweetness drooled
from either sides
and touched the ground
She had no regret
That was so tasty
The bird had a bad day
I swear, by the look
at the squirrel's tiny face
This picture of the wild
enjoying a fruit
Amid the summer heat
I'll never forget
It has been a while since I watched the beautiful events in a day. Just becoz the electricity broke for 5 hours I sat outside for some air. I was so happy to see something this natural and serious.
Mane Omsy Feb 2017
Not another word, it is just beautiful
The little sounds as the bubbles pop
Nano drops shattered on your hand
While the stream flushes down the sea
The beauty of a green meadow
Projected under a morning sun
The aftermath of a lazy rain, bow
You see the clouds form, white and fluffy
When the sun come up, like a good old man
A bright face with his beautiful beard
Where isn't the beauty? Look everywhere

The kitten fondling a woollen ball
When it pokes and runs in its cute way
The magic in their eyes, to find happiness
Resurrect humanity, let's be more joyous
Wake the inner child and see the real world
The beauty is everywhere, in every human
Every creation, every spark of it
Wake up and shine the brightest smile you've got
Mane Omsy Jan 2017
The coffee I had didn't wake me up
I walked to the door like I'm drunk
With sleepy eyes and lazy hands
Grabbed opened it to a snowy day
I wondered am I still not awake?
Coz the star in the east has just arisen
I rubbed my eyes harder to assure
The sight I'm witnessing is genuine

Who dropped these diamonds here?
The snow on this shrub is sparkling
The rays shot from the rising sun
Has completed its mission too soon
Reflecting the warm light like a prism
It appeared more aesthetic than ever
I shook a stem and the ice sprinkled
Like shining glitters, on my shoes
It touched my toes through the layer
And the cold drifted my dreams away
Just a normal snowy day from another view :)
Mane Omsy Jan 2017
I hope there's a music playing
To dance along, in this farm yard
I wish everyday was peaceful, wavy
Like the breeze is the choreographer
The lengthy plants dance along
And confess, we will heal your pain
Just look at us, how happy we are
This evening will cherish my mind
By these dancers in the field, so green

I must feel the vastness inside me
Coz everything I worry, has vanished
I feel no more remorse, wasting time-
Here, I could fling into this lovely view
She gets the goosebumps everytime
The wind fondles on her belly, so soft
Must admit the show was enchanting
Mane Omsy Jan 2017
Without the warm wind
When will you reach the core?
How will you spread a smile?
I'm here grasping images
Concluding lines to this poem
Adding sensations, it's her
The beauty you won't forget
Get some time, spend them here
While I wondered however
Happiness flows blowing minds
Whenever I see violence
When people act fool with it
This landscape presents peace
Inhale the freedom, fly with her
Racing rivers, waterfalls
The complete silence afterward
From here, I hear roars, tarzans
Howls, entertained by this view
B P Oct 2015
She is a landscape
Her eyes, filled with lakes
Her body is the rolling hills
Her hair, the grass and leaves
Her voice is the brush of wind
Her eyes, the dirt of flowerbeds

She is a landscape
But all she sees is destruction
She sees the pollution in the lakes
The bumps in the hills
The dying leaves of fall
The plainness of dirt
The sadness in the birds call

We look upon her
And see the beautiful landscape
But alas, her eyes are the dirt
And cannot see
What beauty is built around it.
Tamaira Johnson Aug 2014
people say
that magic is a great thing
something so rarely seen
it isn't known to exist.

however, I disagree.

magic is everywhere
it is seen in everything.

the dew glazed over the grass
the bright sunrise against a dying sky
waterfalls cascading down over rocks
the gentle breeze blowing a forest full of trees
the ocean roaring against a sandy beach
mountains bright against the  sky.

there is magic in EVERYTHING .

— The End —