North-way Woods
A visit to Norway
A journey back in time,
Massive trees left and right,
Stretching their branches skyward,
Reaching for the sun that seldom shows its face,
With rocks happy to reflect its mighty rays,
Hills would make their home for moose and deer,
White houses cling to steep slopes;
Tumbledown shacks cower in their shadow,
Nature is always ready for nature callings,
With berries and mushrooms so wild.
When the mist clears and the curtain drops,
Souls engulfed in a red, white and blue shroud
Witness
Love blossoming in the house of
Love.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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People Who Died
Oak trees are tall and
Reach for the sky,
Blossoming dogwood
Can be pink or white and irises, yellow
Evergreens gently sway in a summer breeze,
As I look towards the sky, cloud covered or
Sometimes a deep shade of blue-
I feel alive and lost inside a world of my imaginings-
I am alone in a world where many loved ones have passed-
My father, warm, and strong and had a zest for life,
My mother sometimes happy, more often sad,
My grandmother, eccentric and funny and my aunt-
In my eyes, special and like a mother to me-
Oak trees are tall and reach for the sky,
Blossoming dogwood and irises, yellow-
It is the springtime of the year and I wonder
Where to have my loved ones departed?
Beneath the ground, near the roots of blossoming flowers, or
Up in the sky, towards where tall oak trees are reaching?
I see a rainbow on the horizon, and
The sun, golden, rising above the mountains-
Clouds giving way to a sky, cobalt blue in its hue-
Where and if people have souls or spirits,
Some do not know for certain, but I know, I am never alone,
Although my loved ones are amongst the departed-
Oak trees, tall, dogwoods blossoming in the early spring this year and
Evergreens shall be present for always-
Inside of my mind, my loved ones have never died,
I can still hear their voices in deep conversation-
I can almost feel their warm embraces- I am never alone-
I am never alone because I believe in spirits and carry them inside
My heart and my mind everywhere I go-
I see their faces in every blossoming flower,
Their voices echoing in every breeze-and one day
We shall dance together on the horizon, because I believe that
People really do not die as fond memories shall carry their spirits home-
And home is wherever I walk, what I see and in the beauty of nature, while
The rainbow on the horizon reflects that everlasting love in our souls…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Nature
I go outside and I see of the beautiful blue sky
I see the birds fly
The trees looking ripe
And here I am feeling like a little boy
I love nature
It's my best friend
Nature makes me happy
Nature takes away my angry and sad thoughts
I love nature far more than I love people
Most people make me sick
I love animals more than I love people
I love looking at the sunset
I love looking at the plants and the grasslands
Thank goodness for nature
The glory of God
Nature is filled with the glory of God,
in electric lightning bolts that flashes down,
hitting as if aflame
and in every piece of grass, flower,
bush and tree nature bares witness to it
the white-hot sun in the cobalt blue sky,
aquamarine waters stretching into the sea
is making it know,
but the presence of man destroys,
leaves an impact,
eats at nature like a cancer.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Dew Drops Mist
Whatever it is that you've been told...
As the dew drops mist,
Each morning that unfolds...
Mother Nature to this is committed.
To all things that exist.
And even you and I...
We are caught up the mix.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows...
Everything that lives,
She assists its growth.
And you and I can do what we like.
In between the fussing, cussing and fights.
You and I can decide to hide or be seen...
But mother Nature is there!
And always on the ecene.
It doesn't matter if we chit chat or scatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter if we scatter without chatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
And,
We can be a little rich or poor.
Or never answer a knock on our doors.
It doesn't matter if we chit chat or scatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Every morning when you're yawning and it's dawn,
On this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter in your life what's going on,
'Cause...
In this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever it is that you've been told...
As the dew drops mist,
Each morning that unfolds...
Mother Nature to this is committed.
To all things that exist.
And even you and I...
We are caught up the mix.
So,
Every morning when you're yawning and it's dawn,
On this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter in your life what's going on,
'Cause...
In this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows it and knows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows it and knows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Sunshine after The Rain
The sunshine after the rain
The grey darkness is gone
The sun back mighty in glory
crowned with golden rays
Sending love and warmth
to inhabitants of the world
Nature beauty is revealed
in remarkable way
the rain water drops lingering
kissing the roses,
the flowers and lilies
spreading over the fields
the pastures sparkling green
the awesome trees
the skies painted in crystal blue
the white shades of clouds
slowly passing
All bringing joy
nourishing our soul
The sunshine
The sunshine after the rain
poem by Sherif Monem
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In The Vastness Of Nature
One never is short of things on which to write
Like butterflies flitting in the bright sunlight
Or the pleasant aroma of the blossoming trees
That wafts in the air of the freshening breeze.
In the vastness of Nature i do seem quite small
Like a wee grain of sand to a massive football
And the wonders of Nature are a magical thing
And the praises of Nature i feel happy to sing.
Us humans are part of Nature that's how it seems to me
And though many with what i have said may well not agree
On our very existence Nature has the say
And our remains in her bosom are destined to lay.
The one true immortal she lives on in time
So often has Nature inspired me to rhyme
To her vast distant oceans her great rivers flow
Yet so little of her ways i do seem to know.
I do my best to describe the great beauty i see
The wonders of Nature that are all around me
And the beauty of Nature never ceases to inspire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire?
poem by Francis Duggan
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Berries! ! ! ! !
Mulberries
On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March, the old tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, ran with cane basket.
Picked one, ate some while the birds created a racket.
Strawberries
Strawberri es in white boxes, one atop other
The hawker sat on his knees, said go no further.
I protest too expensive, not for the masses.
Rich eat raw, make a tart or with cream in glasses.
Wild Berries
On way back from school at noon, attack wild berries.
Are for free and so yummy, home a lot we carry.
We laugh and shriek as our skirts get stuck in thorns,
Satiated, come back home, with berries, skirt torn
Written in ancient japanese form Sitigotyo
06.04.09
Mamta Agarwal
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Wonders Of Nature
The wonders of Nature around us every day
The billions of multicoloured wildflowers that bloom in their own natural way
The hum of the nectar gathering honey bees
And the scent of pollen blown out from the blossoming trees.
The pleasant sounds of Nature to us ever near
The songs of the wild birds so pleasing for to hear
And as much as the trees and the flowers and as much as bird song
We are part of Nature and to her we belong.
The beauty of Nature is for all to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
The beauty of our Earth Mother is for all to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire.
The poets are inspired by her and in their poems they sing
Of her Seasons the Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
And in the work of the artist on the gallery wall
The beauty captured on canvas of a waterfall.
The wonders of Nature are around us everywhere
White butterflies dancing in the balmy air
And in Nature everything lives in a natural way
And for to view her beauty we do not have to pay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Snow wonderland
Matching scratches
White square patterns, design by print feet.
Back and forward & square.
Walking straight to shine light & moving shadow
Reflect the way home
Cold needles are sewing the red faces looking around.
Everything is enchanted by light and mud.
Pine tree green cover in a sweet icing.
Drops, smoking, cold melting ice
On my hands warmed pocket.
Broken snow, walking on the front steps.
Inside the house, outside a paint window
Nature a great painter.
After the night.
Museum of white morning colours
Shouting scarf's and boots
Angels games.
Raining melting tree.
Warm grey sky.
White bushes with orange and red berry faces.
White pyramids of smoking chimney.
Keeping warm thrones.
poem by Luca Menin
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A Misty Day
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
The mist hangs low o'er the wooded hill,
The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
The sun and the face of heaven shroud.
The birds are thick in the dripping trees,
That drop their pearls to the beggar breeze;
No songs are rife where songs are wont,
Each singer crouches in his haunt.
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
Whene'er thy loving voice is still,
The cloud and mist hide the sky from me,
Whene'er thy face I cannot see.
My thoughts fly back from the chill without,
My mind in the storm drops doubt on doubt,
No songs arise. Without thee, love,
My soul sinks down like a frightened dove.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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White Hat White Coat
To the late doug whalan.... from your daughter.....
White hat white coat and greying in hair
he would dance around the dance floor with plenty of flair
White hat white coat black pants to boot
the men would all say 'silly old coot'
Whitehat white coat and a big friendly smile
when he went to a dance he'd dress in style
White hat white coat and a beat in his feet
it's of to the dance and people to meet
White hat white coat and a scotch on the rocks he'd love to dance
and the men would all mock
White hat white coat asleep at the wheel
he's danced all night 'boy i know how he feels'
White hat white coat have been put to the test
it's time to go home for a well earned rest
White hat white coat clean shirt and socks too
he's all geard up and ready for round two
White hat white coat so tired and run down
close your eyes and dream of your nights on the town
White hat white coat you've seen better days
your torn around the edges and your starting to fray
White hat white coat the time's come for us to part
but always remember ' i love you with all my heart '
poem by Debbie Gregory
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Perfect Scenery-Cloud's end
Here as i sit with network of green to surround,
the Falcon soaring high in the blue sky,
a blanket of dew drops on the fresh green leaves,
shining a perpetual golden brown.
the silence and tranquility of the blissful air,
blueberry flowers on steep slopes of valley,
causing mystical ravines of my heart to flood with
beauty and sizzling
excitement,
the magic touch of heavenly green spreads all over,
there follows a heavy downpour of tropical rain,
macro droplets of water cascade everywhere,
with the grass blades crying out in anticipation to
swallow the rain drops,
clear and transparent, quenching their thirst for
divine blessings,
leaving them submerged in a river of celestial love.
tall pine trees had their drooping branches covered
with white snow,
shielded the valley in heat with their shade and
warmth,
enriching every inch of soil with their overgrown
root,
as golden rays of the sun shine on their leaves,
displaying vivid contrasts of velvety green and satin
yellow,
obscuring my eyes with film of salty tears,
enjoying this lovely rapturous sight,
fulfilling desires lurking in my soul with vibrant
echoes of ravishing
nature.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Morning Spring
The foul mist has been replaced in the greening plain,
And the dew-drops shine on the ear lop of a balmy rose, not rain,
The coquette rose awakes facing East again
Its lovely self adorning in such fresh scent morning with no strain.
Oh, the vast plain is grassy, untamed wild and bare
Wild, wanton and wide open to the morning air
Which has built up everywhere
Making the little rabbit to the meadow tread and dare
upon the far horizon blue peaks in the distance rise
And ivory white against the cold sapphire sky
Shine out of the crowing crests of snow
Beneath their line the bushes stretching in a dominant grow
The morning wind is hiding, sighing, dodging among the trees,
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, of glee, not tears
The sun is rising in bright dusk skies
Veils his fair head of glory while contently he spies
This morning it is my love unclouded luster of her eyes
Her beauty shines as nature does; and once it descried
The jealous vanquish roses lose their bursting pride
And back into their home buds their blushes hide
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved
Far Too Little I Know
I
Far too little I know about the things that lie between us,
I see the sea drawing back and rushing in,
I know too little to tell you about my love,
see your tracks disappearing over a sand dune.
I know too little to talk about a secret,
how one day can be so very special,
filled with life changing meaning,
about the things that I read in your eyes
but that that you really love me,
I know before the sea wipes our tracks away
when I kiss you and get you giggling,
while we give new steps into life
when you became the meaning in my small universe;
if you were the light falling through the window on me.
II
If you were the light falling through the window on me,
a star shining at night against the sky,
I would have been able to admire you, in days without end
but now thunder flashes down
whiter than daylight into my life
becoming part of my life,
to again jump to somewhere else
as if single moments are everything
and far too short was the time that you could stay,
with almost endless cheerfulness that you could bring
in this tough world as part of me,
where my heart could sing songs of joy
and far too little time I had invested in you,
how should I have known that I would make an oath with you?
III
How should I have know that I would make a oath with you
before I met you,
have a concept of such intimate feelings,
as with which you are part of my whole world?
How must I have know the meaning
of faith, love and hope
and about professing of true love
before our lives started together
on ways that I could not expect
and could learn to love
past events, years and times reaching to maybe,
that you are part of everything in me?
I want to love you as in days long past,
in the winter of my life.
IV
In the winter of my life
when all the trees around me stand skeleton,
with stripped branches shivering in the wind,
with sometimes a thunder bashing down
I sometimes remember the look in your sea-green eyes
where colours so secretly come together,
even when my body bend like branches, bended by age
as if in my thoughts they are looking forever at me,
it’s as if a new spring just have got to come,
as if your arms surround my neck,
with you flowering anew
as a angel of light
it’s sometimes as is you are with me,
when the morning starts with its first rays.
V
When the morning starts with its first rays,
with the sky changing from twilight grey to blue,
hang with the moon still hanging white
I am caught like a lizard
that prays to the sun,
where it’s rising white hot,
where I sit before your photograph
that shows every bit of your beauty,
but the nights and months past
while every day you look back
from that photograph
and I wonder if you still do love me?
and I think certainly, you are just as pretty,
when the sun throws its last rays over the trees.
VI
When the sun throws its last rays over the trees,
drawing shadows out long
before it reaches out
with long orange red rays
and the streetlights suddenly are awakening
give eyes to poles, becoming orange yellow
then I know
that you are somewhere else and just as pretty,
that you are laughing somewhere else,
caring after your children, doing your duties,
stretching yourself out for the night,
after kissing your children goodnight
and I am really longing while I am waiting,
I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure.
VII
I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure,
how you cry for a beautiful movie,
even expecting something good out of poor things,
how on a dark rainy night you shelter against me,
the way that you look at me,
the feelings that you bring to me,
as if you’re green eyes shines like the sea,
with every word going into my depths
but time takes an own road
and destiny is without mercy,
where at a time we both had to go different directions
and still try to jump over horizons with words
and maybe I have to court you again anew,
far too little I know about the things that lie between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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You Who Say You Do Not Love Nature
You who say that you do not love Nature I wonder about you I do
'Tis sad to think you are not a rare one there are many others like you
You claim that Land for Wildlife should be developed for houses and the old growth trees on them cut down
We are in need of far more houses to add to the size of the town
You do not understand about Nature develop or perish you say
The Greenies you say you do not like of progress they stand in the way
If everybody felt as you do we would have a World without trees
And we would not have any birdsong only pollution blowing in the breeze
We need greenies far more than we need your type the Greenies Nature do defend
And the creatures of Nature in trouble at present they need every friend
With climate change and habitat destruction many species are becoming rare
The World could do with far less of your type and far more of the environmentally aware
You who say you do not love Nature material gains at Nature's expense you pursue
You are an unenlightened person and to your higher self you cannot be true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
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My Fondest Dream
It has always been my desire,
To be alone amongst hundreds of trees, deer and
In solitude beneath the sun as it would shine through the trees in the woodlands,
Casting shadows upon the creek that meanders throughout-
I remember a story my mother used to read to me
When I was none but a child of three years old,
A story about living alone in a little cabin in the woods-
And to this day I believe that that story was written for me-
I can almost envision that cabin built from branches of fallen trees,
Where I would make my home,
Far from the millions of people in this world,
But not far at all from the deer, birds and all of nature-
It is my belief that there are different ways of being lonely.
Alone, far from threatening people who dwell amid this planet, as
When I am amongst these people, I am truly lonely and misunderstood,
While inside the place of my dreams I have escaped these billions of people,
Made a home in the cabin from my storybook, and
Am living amongst the wonders of nature and the world of my own thoughts-
Never alone, never lonely until I awaken and find myself
Rudely thrown back to reality-
Now I know that if I want to escape
What is true loneliness to me, all I have to do is to close my eyes and
To lose myself inside the world of my fondest dreams.
Standing beneath the shadows cast by the tallest trees,
Watching the deer running freely- and listening to the wild geese calling-
Looking upward toward the sky here at nightfall, I wish upon a star,
That my dream will someday come true- because
What I dream shall never harm me- and in my thoughts,
Being misapprehended by a multitude of strangers is
What loneliness truly can be? Being alone with my familiar thoughts,
Amongst the magic of nature is peace, happiness and never being lost-
And being the star of my childhood storybook-living in that cabin in the woods,
Perhaps alone there, but never lonely…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Accept Everything
We have to accept everything
Nobody has to do anything
As it is made freely available
You just carry on……..
When nature offers free smile
Why you should be sad for a while?
When everybody recognizes the presence?
You also fall in line with its essence
It is joy around and you move by an inches
Flowers smile and trees shake branches
Air moves in with little speed and fragrance
You just look up and walk with elegance
Stars twinkle when sky is in deep blue
You may not know what is next due?
Crescent will appear and slowly emerge
Silver rays will spread and merge
Nature too likes calm and peace
Galaxies with stars live with ease
No one interferes even with axis
Still living in harmony already exists
What a day to start with early morning?
Brisk walk with speed and running
Fresh air and breeze to bright the face
Ready to face challenge and jump in race
Morning prayers with earnest desire
Nothing to worry and always admire
He is there to guide us to destiny
Why not live happily in this world tiny?
Every small particle teaches and advises
Cowards fall back and brave only rises
Continue to surge even with little means
Failure will turn into big and massive wins
Try to pick up what ever you can from nature
Everything hinges on little hopes for future
Raise your head with pride and say
Rest all will be history to pave the way
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Moose and the Goose
The mighty mad moose said to the gentle gliding goose,
“It’s not fair you fly in formation while I suffer much abuse.
Wind and breeze are there as you fly first class.
I’m down here on the ground fighting weeds and grass.”
The flock of geese had just landed for some food and rest,
And here is this mighty mad moose acting like a real pest.
But the head gliding goose had a gentle reply,
“Mighty mad moose you’re upset and I don’t know why.”
“Each year we chart the route for you mighty moose.
We’re the train’s engine, while you have freedom of a caboose.
Pay attention to our direction as we geese pass over;
Then you moose will know the way and have time for clover.”
Sir moose replied, “You fly south for winter and return in spring.
So all I have to do is remember that one important thing.
As I browse through trees and brush, I need to raise my eyes
To see you all as you map our way through the skies.”
The attitude of mighty moose changed from mad to glad,
Since he understood the treasure that he really always had.
As the gentle gliding geese flew off in formation,
Mighty moose smiled and tipped his antlers in appreciation.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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