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Heather Dec 2019
There is a place hidden
deep within the forest
Where the moss grows
Dark emerald green
a pride of trees gather
to conceal those green, growing things

Places above the forest floor
birds raise their young
living fragile though unafraid
the cricket and the whippoorwill alike
Find a home on the forest floor

All the sweet smelling grasses
Grow uninhibited while
A soft gentle rain, a shower
Nourishes life beneath the sun

Leaves, trees and grass
soft to the touch let footsteps roam
Above the branches lift high a canopy
To shield all those below
From a storm or sudden shower

While a rainbow is born
consummate of rain with sun
Sweet smells grow sweeter still
Mingling and mixing in green places
Where the moss grows
Where nature exists is where I find real peace of mind.
YoungFeather Jul 2018
I was standing in front of the pale blue sea
It's water was shining in the sun,
It was unexpectedly hot today
And I felt how smooth, soft as cotton sand covers my feet.
I heard wind going "swish" and "swosh" like a whistling man
It was so close it even kinda scared me down.
The feeling was amazing - relaxing, calming and light
This place is heaven
And those were the best moments of my life.
Mystic904 Sep 2017
Birds and bats fly at the same pace
Lads claiming been to outer space

Some just cant find a trace,
Of the truth that lies within their space

Some laugh at the poetry of craze
But a driven mind always slays

Trying to find a single trace
Of a mere fault in the perfect place

Managed everything so fragile,
Two words and a never ending space

Though some cant tie a lace
And some just cant embrace

The truth of life and the short race,
Striving to comprehend the confusing space
butterfly Apr 2017
as i gaits around the pavement
under the sun with my weary heart
wrapped in my pockets
wind whispers to my ears

lonely tree swayed its branches
sad and blue
leaves fell on the ground
swept by the summer wind

i lift my head up and stretch my arms
gave him a hug
my heart jumped out as he hugged me back
maybe we're gonna be best friends
so I climbed up on him and threw my weary heart into the space
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
as soon as these blue speckled
socks go, that's it. A new bright black death.A solemn weir on a stark horizon.Give me a reason to wear color. My hueless affidavit
runs me into the Earth, where I sprout up
a pallid keb- brain orf'd, you could drag my etiolated ebon
body through the ovine fold or take me to the theater. When I was just a minor teg, I sheared my mim kip, I fuckinggave it to you outright. In this little
cote my wan mien nigrifying; my calamitous black, quaffed full of congou in demitasse, of souchong & saucers. My atrous wethered body albicantly degenerating in the atrous sun. I'm crusting over with wanness and you, you're fortifying in the cwm where I used to yaff and stray. Your ovivorous hunger,something I never knew, when first you came for my jecoral flesh, just another bot digging through my soft toison. Like Dall's Prometheus being sheared from the flock-you cut me away. In this drab and achromic world, you put the wanness in my flesh, the gid in my heart. Still.
Just these blue socks are left.
Written Sitting against an Oak tree outside of a family friend's farm in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin

— The End —