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A Poem on hearing the voice of nature

The open field
Bordered by firs elders
Covered in blooming
Lemon clover
Left space

Inside this vast openness
I set down my burdens

My worries
& discomforts
And the burlap
they rode in on

What was left was
clear azure sky

Holding a new sound
authored by birds

Toby’s
soft breath
Inside this dome of space

Oh most definitely,
dogs speak

in the secret language
translated by those
who love them beyond
logic

The sun shoots a cannon
across the ridgeline of the trees
paralleling the emerald horizon

Pouring golden syrup over the eastern trunks
of exhausted autumn trees

The sunrise casts a spotlight
over
this magical stage

pulling back the curtain
over the
enchanted valley floor
There is a transformative effect that never yields when we spend time outdoors.
Man Nov 2020
we talked
ad infinitum
on the docks, at the pier, in the park
it was midsummer, with a warmth like it too
and two sailboats streaked the lake
but for the life of me
I've forgotten what we said
her washed out blond hair
inviting rose colored lips
polka-dotted red & white skirt
and mustard yellow blouse

it was sparsely more than a few
but they seemed to say
"drink it in"
Aliq Aug 2020
Did you remember?
It was start like a game.
From May to Decembre
Causing so much pain

Gently, tenderly,
Step by step
Then vigorously
We rushed into deep.

I've made a mistake
Openly closer
My feels are no fake,
Cuz I'm not a pozer.

And I don't regret
That I let you too much
I love what I've get,
I love it too much.

Whiskey'n'bike
I know what you like.
Porch'n'park -
On my knees at the dark.

I waited for you
From mistakes of your past
And you know what to do
With my mind and lust

We will start a new game,
We'll make all dreams come true
Without fear and shame
Cuz I belong to you

Use me, abuse me
From now I'm your slave
Don't feel sorry for me
I'll take all what you gave.

Whiskey'n'bike
I know what you like.
Porch'n'park -
On my knees at the dark.
TJ Radcliffe Jan 2020
Scent of springtime wafts around
the road's slow curve as it nears town,
passing through low swampy ground
where the rills are running down
from the forest, deep and drear,
fog enclosing hopes and fears
for the future. Spring will come,
when winter hibernation's run
will end in waking. Life again
will rise from loamy fecund soil,
will prise from time by endless toil
a season's freedom from its chain.
The early snows have come and gone
Wet fields await the deer and fawn.
Deep rich scent of spring today walking into the village. A few days of snow have yielded to rapid melting, and the world already smells like spring.
Madeleine Mar 2019
The sniffer to smell
From the indoors to the outdoors
Rotten and the fresh

The smell of flowers
To the fresh crisp autumn air
And campfire treats

Manure on farms
getting sprayed by a scared skunk
or dumpsters in back

From kitchen dinners
And the freshly baked cookies
and banana bread
Ash Slade Oct 2017
crows near barn    faded red    white stripe panes
scitter scatter    peck at grass
crunch leaves
coated floor    scavenging seeds
overhead like gold/red skyscrapers
angular    tall
declension
touches down
free fall
folks claim it's passed us by
it jostles senses
ramshackle deck    weak 'n worn    flimsy 'n haphazard
wobbly    uncertain    ***** on railing
fall into hands
dismantling of childhood
once was    no longer is
whistles blow crunchers onto old meeting place
furry Beanie Baby zips across pole
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