#naturepoem
Smoke slithered skyward, a silent silver hymn,
Like snakes of sorrow where the light grew dim.
My body, bruised, crept low through war’s refrain,
Yet my heart rang loud in the hush of pain.
The grass, like velvet, welcomed weary skin,
As pines above swayed slow in sacred spin.
The heavens stretched — a canvas washed in gold,
A breathless scene too wondrous to be told.
The Sun emerged, a monarch on his throne,
Scattering sapphires where the wind had blown.
Each blade of grass wore jewels like a bride,
With dewdrops dancing, star-like, side by side.
“Steal them!” stirred the mischief in my chest —
But peace, not plunder, filled my soul with rest.
The fields lay still, like hearts in silent prayer,
The world — a whisper held in morning air.
A single drop, like love, fell on my face,
A gentle kiss, the sky's forgiving grace.
The breeze began to hum a nameless tune,
The clouds gave way, and rain became a boon.
Each dewdrop held the story of the land,
A mirror forged by time and nature’s hand.
They gleamed like thoughts too deep for voice or ink,
Then vanished softly at the eyelid’s blink.
I closed my eyes — not sleep, but soul’s retreat,
Wrapped in the warmth of dawn’s unfolding beat.
Even as darkness tried to claim the day,
The dew kept shining — soft, and sure, and gray.
And I, though broken, found my burden gone —
Bathed in the beauty of the dewy dawn.
Jun 30, 2025
Jun 30, 2025 at 12:26 AM UTC
In this view, I know the name
of that village on the hill
but I forget the next and the next
Most of these birds, this song,
were here before
but the heft and pin-black eye
of the red kite are new,
not known
And though the sharp-scrape panic
as the pheasant protests
has sounded a thousand times past,
these days it’s heard different
Mar 19, 2022
Mar 19, 2022 at 7:33 AM UTC
Out on the ice as the season turns
the lake groans in leviathan language
and I understand, I do
But routine decides the route, not me,
and this floor might spiral fracture
as a passing thought
to those dark waters
Mar 6, 2022
Mar 6, 2022 at 8:23 AM UTC
The hedgerow pulse
seems quickened as the dipped flit
of three blue **** from here to there
declares that something is coming
Maybe too early to call spring,
the jackdaw on a slack wire
is still willing to give energy to balance,
as his eye sees good things
And the fettered earth begins to flex
as something elliptical
solar
inherent
returns to tickle us
Mar 5, 2022
Mar 5, 2022 at 8:10 AM UTC
The impulse of summer waning
sends an annual, yet always forgotten shift,
the hedgerows and fields conspire
to rewrite the scent enough
so the mind wanders to open fires
and comfort food
even though the sun still beats
scant weeks away we’ll swaddle
Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 8:28 AM UTC
1.
I started in the shadow of one of God’s many houses,
fat plums on common ground offered themselves,
taut, bruise-purple skin still pristine
for maybe two, three more weeks
Walking on, a burst fig signaled
something
fresh green torn
scandalously showing fleshy insides
that should be kept private
for lovers, gourmands, gluttons
All the while, intermittently,
the straight line train drones by,
keeping Presbyterian hold
on passing passengers
who through unopened windows
cannot smell, hear or taste the divine
All the while the crickets sang of being
2.
All the while the crickets scored my steps
until ahead, nettle and dog rose conversations
conspired to thwart this man’s,
any man’s,
attempts to walk straight and true
A detour took me from the soft lost chaos of grasses
to tight lawns, hard front doors,
dark-ish satanic mills making wheat biscuits
and the ever sad chorus of a million tyres
Nearing home, a young rabbit’s boldness held
until too close, melted away
in the managed parkland
dragonfly truths called, m’ ducks
dragonfly truths called
Aug 4, 2021
Aug 4, 2021 at 7:32 AM UTC
Leaf litter sheep ****
verdant verges
flowers that smell foreign but aren’t
wet earth telling truth
moves to concrete and tarmac
who lie often
and heat is turned to memory
steps from animal tracks to animals tracked
have tumble drier breeze
mocking those prior flowers
**** smoked appreciatively
to thank the peace
as if laws don’t exist
and the lick of car exhaust
to recall poison
and then home
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 8:37 AM UTC
Green cathedral bells
are felt more than heard
though some tolls chime audible
to stomach depths
heart breadths
last breaths
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 7:14 AM UTC
A slow skull, but steady
as four pull by in unison,
the river readies me for another day
with current confidences
quietly spoken
In comparison, the busy chat
of small brown birds seems rude,
but cheek and charm
forgive a lot
if not all
It’s to the bees I’ll look
for industry this Sunday,
though if their lead will be followed
is yet to be decided
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 5:05 AM UTC
Hawthorn breaks a smile in the hedgerow,
whispers a truth
that, easily forgotten, delights again
and the indoor pain is lifted a little
The green is almost angry
demanding attention like a fat toddler
or peacocking buffoon
that somehow still wins hearts
I cried yesterday
despite spring’s giving relief as backdrop
anticipating a warmth
that still evades my fingertips
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 9:09 AM UTC
I forget myself sometimes
in nettles and dead wood
as feet step on, envious of small things
that skip through barbed brambles
like ladder rungs to new space
I’ll content myself with lungs of open air
and try to care less about slings and arrows
and my Brobdingnagian clump
to be allowed here is enough
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 10:53 AM UTC
This ground was thirsty
by god thirsty
been cracking and cursing for months
with only the vaguest hunch of a possible deluge
so these rains were drunk in abandonment
and the angry soil has yielded
soft underfoot, a sole cwtch
to be savoured, felt
the stream, so feeble last week
has remembered its fatness,
wetness, strength
recalling a bearing
thoughts are borne once again
with vigour to the constant sea
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 8:44 AM UTC
Skimming and scanning
the grammar of the riverbank’s
brown leaf, new shoot syntax
a bold type wren,
like the old bouncing ball of singalongs,
led my eye to read the waterline
and yet I still couldn’t discern
if smiles or tears were written
while the branch tips still scribed
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 9:21 AM UTC
Bone tired, petal and stem
still crave the light.
The fug has muted us
putting aches where shines were
but the yearning for the thorn and burr
of every normal day persists
My skin is ready to be kissed
with burn and nettled rash again
to give me pause for actual thought
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 9:31 AM UTC
*********
hear the words from my beak
please
above the chatter and click
of these other feathered *****
as they plead for wheat, sans chaff
every single one of us
the same
except the stupid branch we’ve
ended up perched on,
early or not the worms are earmarked
and the **** always falls down
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC
Hedge sparrows drink the sun
as it wanes
and the draining year passes
they still glean a family happiness
in spite of the closing dark,
a spite richly deserved
listen to their lead and chatter,
ruffle and preen together, apart
as hearts and feathers wait
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 7:28 AM UTC
Walk among the fairies
Feel the cold sea breeze
Lay among the sand
And listen all the bees
The wind blows so chill
Hear the leaves whispering in your ears
Tress dancing in peace
Forget all your fears
****** away a few minutes
Put the trauma behind
Dive in the beauty of the nature
And let it relax your mind
So every day when u pray
Thank the lord
For the happiness he gave
And struck deep a chord
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC
Double glazed prisons
that suffocate us in
Stopping air
dainty pure
saturating chakras
and healing pores
Skewed panes
Isolate and whisper
Lies
keeping us inside
to jeopardize
All destiny
Meant to thrive.
Glass severing
our connection
to the quaint outside
Leaving Nature,
Our spirit guide,
meekly to subside
when seen
through this lens
of poisoned eyes.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 9:49 AM UTC
Wet grass caps toes,
a long missed inconvenience,
each pace lifting
weight long loved
The dappled, leaf stopped light
tries to placate,
but you won’t stay
Like time and tide
you wipe your face clean
and disappear through trees
with no trail
Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 5:40 AM UTC
I shot the breeze today
with crickets, beetles,
spiders and caterpillars,
we held a moot.
Each representative, a voice:
words in the clamour
to be heard
In these lands of
many common grasses,
breeze told anecdotes,
arachnid needs
and insect calls for attention
often get ignored
Stopping to sit,
look through clutches of eyes,
sing with rattled wings
and chew cud,
can help retune the din
to be cleanly heard
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
Though out of sight
Yet Somewhere nigh
Was a running stream
Under willow trees high
Delving into nature’s calmness
Was Worthy enough to give a try
Scattered sunlight filtering through trees
Whose serene beauty can’t be defined
Like wide blank pages of life to which
No specific memory could be assigned
Casting aside all melancholic thoughts
Fastening the deliberately tied knots
O my mind! take a pleasant twist
Before everything melts into mist.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
Sometimes you’re controlling
but that’s okay
because I know that you love me
and you will always be there
You’re the only one
that has always been there
It’s like I’m a ship
and you’re my captain
You always grab a hold of me
when the wind blows
and the seas get tremulous
you steer me away from the chaos
When life gets too hard
I know that if I sink
you’ll go down with me
Oh captain, my captain
Sail me away
- Submission
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 12:04 PM UTC
Today, when I was free;
I thought of doing a poetry.
My eyes rolled up and down randomly.
Yet, nothing came by me.
Thinking.
Oh! Butterfly, a good thing to write.
I wrote:
" Butterfly, beautiful is your fluttering flight."
And then I was blank.
And stopped. Went on a river bank.
Thinking, maybe fish will do.
Yet, there's no ripple, no clue.
I tried laying on meadow.
My eyes, up and high, sky says much.
Yet, nothing, I could hear such.
Disappointed.
I paddled home, no more I could spare;
These days, my poetry are rare.
Exhausted.
I collapsed in my bed- empty.
Thinking.
Oh! Better be the poem- my vanity!
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 2:19 PM UTC
Whatever I think on a theme
Is somewhere in a song;
I want to muse on something,
That hasn't yet been done.
Political verses aren't much read,
Nor social satire on the quick and dead;
Relationships are switching lanes,
Sparking up or down in flames.
Family, friends, coming, going,
Everybody's naming names.
Any doggerel I might choose,
Is just a story in the news.
Arise and spin where you stand,
You'll get dizzy, you'll be queasy,
I knew this wasn't to be easy.
It's somewhat like a paper cut,
It's quite like that when it starts up,
Hardly noticeable, but for the sting,
But it gets in under the skin.
It's sweetness strong to draw a bee,
Flowery scents on a breeze;
An attraction meant to pull you in,
A stinger poised to pierce your skin.
I have my joys at end of day,
A little sleeper, a swift silent dreamer
That grows like our emotions,
Just needing our endorsements.
It's not been parsed as it could,
Discard the evil, keep the good;
It's in our veins, as sure as blood,
I'll focus all my wit on love.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
The periwinkle peach grey clouds hang
Caressing the lava mountains
In a good night embrace
The desert still
Listening to the silence
Night falls
The mountains dim
More purple
Fading
Becoming Indistinguishable
From the surronding hazy cloud blanket
The further I am the more it becomes one
One moment blending into another
Becomes time
Becomes feeling
Becomes night
And then
Day.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC