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Lacey Clark Sep 2024
oh, the surface tension,  
holding the wild beneath,  
where I float, buoyant,  
the cool water kisses my skin,  
a sweet moment of clarity,  
where i'm a welcome guest,
the deeper i go.

fish dart around    
homes in coral,   
sea anemones swaying,  
little dancers in the blue haze,  
snakes gliding on the sandy floor,  
that octopus, oh, the octopus!
the wizard of disguise,   
hiding beneath the shells,  
soft moss a velvet carpet.  

the turtles,  
gentle giants, drifting,  
letting the current cradle their shells,  
the waves pulse and heave,  
wild and electric,  

all of us,  
the fish, the plants,  
in syncopation,  
we flow together,
drifting this way,
and that way.
snorkeling is my happy place <3
Sleepy Dori Aug 2024
In Cooks, Rarotonga
An oasis protected by coral reefs
in the vast blue ocean.
Open, outstanding, yet not everyone
can approach
Only those few who know the drill.

In Manawatāwhi,
Demoiselle,
Maomao —
are names given to fishes
And Bottlenose dolphins play.

Even the strongest cannot endure the storm
The mourning mother
never sees his son again
Lying alone on the shallow white sand
He becomes a piece of nature’s artefact.

And the sorrow of loss
is only remembered
by those who echoed.
— inspired by Our Big Blue Backyard Season 3
In the depths of verdant woods, whispers dwell,
Ancient trees stand tall, with stories to tell.
A tapestry woven with secrets untold,
The forest, a sanctuary for spirits of old.

Through dappled sunlight, gentle breezes stir,
As melodies of nature softly purr.
Moss-clad stones, witnesses of ages gone by,
Guarding the wisdom that time can't deny.

In the heart of the forest, silence is alive,
A hallowed hush, where wild creatures thrive.
The subtle rustle of leaves, a sacred hymn,
Echoing the harmony of nature's eternal whim.

Amidst towering pines and canopies above,
A place where the spirit finds solace and love.
The sunbeams, like leaves, gently cascade,
Inviting us to wander through nature, unafraid.

In the footsteps of our ancestors, we tread with care,
Respecting the balance, the fragile and rare.
For the forest is more than a mere collection of trees,
It's a sanctuary, a refuge, where the soul finds ease.

So let us venture forth, guided by poetic light,
Into the embrace of the forest, an ancient rite.
May we find inspiration in nature's embrace,
And honor its beauty, while we leave no trace.
Zywa Jun 2022
A feather over

circles in the town canal --


Domestic wildlife.
Collection "The drama"
Trojan Aug 2021
They say the city has no landscape
No life
Nothing but concrete
Nothing but steel

They say that
Without ever looking
At the city
In the night

Feral cats
Squirming bugs
And although the trees are small
They loom over small unlit paths

Lonely dogs
Flying moths
And although the buildings are imposing
They too are part of it all

They're our homes
And the homes of rodents
Pigeons
And even more squirming bugs

The city's not dead
But we are
July, 2021
Mr E Writer Mar 2021
pied wagtails seek food
rare quiet times suit them best
pigeons rule the roost
These little birds go about their day happily seeking out morsels of nourishment but sadly the trait of shyness goes against them with the adversely more adaptable pigeons around town.
Eager to grab a meal
It rushes for its ****
Fast as lightening strikes the ground
It grabs onto its neck
With all strength endowed
It tears it's flesh
And as the prey lies helpless
It starts to feed
With the African Cheetah, hesitation means a lost meal ushering in hunger which dooms survival in the wild
Lilythesnake Feb 2021
We wait
It is February
It won't be long now

Winter brought us the Robin's song
Sometimes the blackbird too

Spring is near
They will arrive soon
And sing us through the summer

Chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff
Oh Joy!
Waiting for the voice of spring
Douglas Balmain Dec 2020
I sunk my fingers down
into the loam of an ancient
buffalo wallow and the
land that had quietly
prepared for their species
untold millennia before me.

I held the buffalo’s
mourning in my heart,
and felt the Buffalo Nations’
cry rattle against my ribs.

I opened myself to the
Earth and it spoke
sorrowfully to me
of its broken home.
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