Behind This
Nature, makes fly,
Little butterfly,
on the flower,
in morning hour.
The tiny bee,
one can see,
always busy,
not she lazy.
The naughty wind,
thus entwined
and pollinate;
writing fate,
of future seed...
Nature indeed,
behind this game,
in her realm.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Related quotes
Nature
Nature is beautiful
nature is fun
love it or hate it
nature is something to love
nature is god's gift to us
Nature
Nature we love
wate and feed nature
Nature water's and feed's us
god gave us nature
we cant live with out it
nature makes us
i know nature
Nature is beautiful
Nature is about the earth
nature has flower; s and weed's
weed's or flower's nature is us
NATURE
poem by Kerri King
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Butterfly Dreams
I dream what it would be like to be a Butterfly
See the wonder of their world through a thoughtful eye
Taste the fragrant flowers drink the morning dew
Play around the petals and pollinate a few
I want to witness the magic of Mother Nature’s womb
Be there at the beginning of a futures flower’s bloom
Try to pry the difference between a petal and thorn
Aiding in the arrival of seeds being born
Imagine the vista and the intimate views
The collage of colors and their heavenly hues
What would it be like to wake as something new
Awake from a silken sleep starting life anew
Some dream they’re men that ply special powers
I dream I'm a Butterfly a Fae among the flowers
poem by Ed_ Schmidt
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As I ventured to the Wood
As I ventured to the wood,
I stopped to draw on dewy air; let
Droplets shimmer in my hair, that
Rested on my tranquil head – as
In a sense of cosy bed.
As I ventured to the wood,
A gesturing cuckoo perched above,
And then in song with cooing dove,
‘You're welcome’, bade he, ’Enter please
To roam our land with gentle breeze.’
As I ventured to the wood,
A fallow deer of limpid eye
Gave care to glance at lucky I.
The heavenly aura 'bout her glow had
Charmed me, like a fine Bordeaux.
As I ventured to the wood,
A dazzling flower waved her face
In blazing show of dance and chase, and
Reddened bright in shade of dawn, she
Flirted like a prancing fawn.
As I ventured to the wood,
A butterfly had graced my arm,
And knowing I bid him no harm, he
Splayed for me hypnotic wing in
Colours for to urge me sing!
As I ventured to the wood,
The radiant sun shone down on me.
He flushed and beamed ‘I say to thee,
You bless your land; be filled with pride, and
Cherish e’er yon countryside! ’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Only Immortal
From a tiny dark seedling a tree begins to grow
Into a huge tree with large branches in fifty years or so
It does not need help from Humankind Nature does best on her own
A tiny seed blown in the wind by Nature is self sown
To kind Mother Earth who feeds us all respect we do not pay
We pollute the air we pollute the seas and every Waterway
But what we do to Mother Earth to our own selves we do
The weather temperatures rising every year by a degree or two
We are like Nature's Seasons to life we come and go
The sharp scythe of the reaper is destined to lay us low
Immortality for Humankind perhaps based on a lie
We must return to Nature since we are born to die
The greats of human history the life from them long gone
But Nature lives forever she just goes on and on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The World Is Not Worth Trusting
We’re born into this realm of sorrows just like that;
sorrows, sadness and pains exactly after birth.
Nature cheats on us, we not on Nature.
We envision, we seek, we tend to have,
but have not;
we strive, we labour hard just in vain,
but Nature has multipli’d our sorrows.
Some born great gladd’n,
for Nature has made ‘em so;
oth’rs, suff’ring they all reap,
not that they’re lazy but Nature make’ so.
Some rich suppress;
some broth’rs help not broth’rs
and the world becomes and comes in vain.
poem by Eche Ononukwe
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Tortured Nature
Nature must be love
It is made by god above
Nature is in place
Nature is always with grace
The nature is green
It is colorful when seen
Nature is serene
It is peaceful ever seen
But people is bad
They make mother nature mad
When nature gets mad
It feels like the wrath of god
Disaster of nature
Is enough of your torture
Nature is flower
It gives love like a lover
poem by Ronald Jay Fiesta
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The Life History of The Little Flower
The delicate petals fanned the tiny flower,
Waking fragrantly after the nudging shower,
Shyly it peeped around the beautiful bower,
Not realising its immense power of attraction.
Its quaint face and vibrant eyes,
Made onlookers feel grateful and wise.
Emotions, spirits and thoughts nobly rise,
In appreciation of the aesthetics of nature.
It looked at the sun and the shadowy moon,
Not knowing it would miss them soon.
Life is so brief. It was getting to be noon.
But that did not dismay the flower at all.
A bee saw it from the corner of its eye,
Skilfully it zoomed down closer to pry,
Lighting on the flower with spirits high,
It soon zoomed away with its fill of nectar.
A butterfly as dainty as the flower,
Lighted on the masterpiece in the bower,
Soon it flitted away there being no bar,
To enjoy the pollen it carried with it.
The sun went down and a mild breeze blew,
A gust attracted by the flower covered with dew,
Wanted to be friends with such beauty true,
So it approached it with furious excitement.
Reaching the flower it stopped in awe,
Never having seen such excellence before
Impetuously let out a loud, exultant roar,
Encircling the flower to strengthen their bond.
The pearly flower did not know where to look,
The rush of wind its petals vigorously shook,
The blast was playing the game to the book.
Soon the fragile flower lay completely bare.
As the petals floated away in all directions,
The naughty gust being ashamed of its actions,
Quickly rushed off. That was its heartless reaction,
To the demise of the ornament of the bower.
A Dream Of Evolution....
shall a seed be
a seed forever?
do you not dream
someday that it shall
be planted
so that it can sprout
and grow
and then finally see
its flower
and fruit?
must the flower and fruit
be just the same
like the rest of the histories of
the other seeds
of their own form and kind?
must i hope
for an evolution
a seed turning
into a bee
a bee into
a butterfly into wind
into star?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Life Bottled is Death
I am a butterfly
I flitter about
I rest awhile
I soar
What makes me beautiful?
I could keep you guessing for hours.
Capture me with a lid and bowl
I will die before your eyes.
My wings loose desire, life vanishes from my soul.
As I sit in despair my heart returns to the cocoon.
Look at what you are missing,
life without rhythm to a butterflies tune.
Trust in the nature of a thing.
A butterfly flitters and flies,
it may return it may go.
Isn't that what makes it truly beautiful?
Who would watch a butterfly if we already knew it's next move?
Trust in the nature of a thing.
For a butterfly is always a butterfly
whether resting or soaring,
or tightly wrapped in a cocoon.
poem by Sarah Hughes
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Fate of a votary is written by God
Fate of a votary is written by God
Can it be changed now and then?
No, it can not be changed by men,
Regarding fate none is ready to nod,
If a baby is born to a rich person,
That baby becomes a rich man in life,
Then he marries to a wealthy wife,
What about the fate of a poor man’s son?
Every fate depends upon NATURE,
By Nature a rich to a poor is addressed,
Nature also brightens a poor son’s future,
ON the mercy of Lord a fate is stressed,
Nature can make a hill to a creature,
If God likes, it can be changed or redressed.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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A Great Player!
Is man playing with Nature?
Or Nature playing with man?
Man by his mind wants all;
He wants all under his control.
But can man control Nature?
Action and reaction are equal!
The more man plays with Nature
The more Nature replies by play!
Winter snow is too much for man;
Summer heat is too much for man;
Why have they become too much?
Man has meddled with resources
Nature has provided for man
And the reaction of Nature is high!
Rules of game man has to learn;
Then only he can win in the game;
Until then Nature is the great player!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Chilling wind in Summer Night
Nature is most mysterious of its kind
In the summer night, chilling wind
I waked and walked on the terrace
Of the SPA Hostel, a place
Where I usually walk during morning
During the early morning
Or better say late night
I see the sight in the sky
Above so high
Wind is blowing
Incessantly with air gushing
Through the tiny pores of shirt
Touching the tender heart
The wind is chilling but
It doesn't hurt
For it is relief from summer heat
Summer and no more sweating
The weather is of high rating
Change in the moon of nature
The changing nature of the nature
A few hours ago it had rained for a while
The wind was not so strong and agile
Adding to the chill few rain drops fall
Intermittent drizzling occurs
During this late hours
Surrounded by dimming light
Chilling wind in summer night
{Written on 17 April,2012 during my stay at School of Planning and Architecture hostel at New Delhi from a real experience of nature's bounty}
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Wonder I at Nature!
Lovely song delights heart;
Beautiful poem pleases mind;
Sweet art sustains soul ever;
Nature is living art all in one!
Singing bird is amazing wonder;
Swimming swan is swaying beauty;
Colourful butterfly is flower alive;
Nature is divine art all in one!
Beautiful flowers dancing by wind,
Colourful fish swimming in ecstasy,
Stars twinkling as diamonds in sky
Nature simply delights all in ecstasy!
Is Nature in all its glory only on Earth
Or in the whole of Universe? I wonder!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Thirteen Lines
A brain peered through stoic eyes;
Yet all it saw was rendered into
Flawed interpretation –
No honoured contemplation of a
Gluon, muon, quark of any flavour;
Nor a vision or conception of its world
Within a universe anthropic in its physical laws,
Inside a boundless multiverse.
All it gleaned and modelled
Bore parochialism well beyond belief! –
Delusional perhaps.
Survival only matters here on planet Earth –
Evolution saw to that.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
na ture nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Butterfly, So Naughty Of You
Butterfly
so naughty of you
I'm working here
you're playing there.
Butterfly
so naughty of you
now that I can play with you
you're nowhere to see.
Butterfly
so naughty of you.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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A Perfect Landing
A gaily painted butterfly hovers over
A dainty flower, as a miniature helicopter
Patiently waiting for a landing signal,
The flower welcomes the timely arrival
And guides it to its destination,
As there is no traffic congestion
It makes a perfect landing with precision,
Without any accident or collision,
The butterfly deposits its cargo
Noiselessly moving to and fro,
Flower offers nectar to the visitor
Later it takes off with a flutter.
Spellbound I watch this in silence
And my senses revel in the image.
Have I ever seen, I wonder
Two butterflies on the same flower?
A mystery novel may grip the mind of a reader
Can it surpass the thrill of reading the book of nature?
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Nature Of The Beast
It is the key to all the doors,
It is the crashing on the shores.
It lives in your steering wheel.
It hides in the wind and rain,
With voices as cold as steel
Its calling your name
It is the smile upon his face
It is the winning of the race.
It lives in the red-alert.
It lives in the power game
Its easy to take to heart
But harder to tame
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
Without all this heat
Theyll be dancing west to east
This is the nature of the beast
It is the glowing in his eyes
It is the reason for his lies
How many know youre there
How many play your game
Hes always the man to dare
Youre always to blame
It is the need to understand
It is the trigger in his hand
It lives in the uniform
It grows from the need to gain
With faces so old and torn
Its calling your name
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
Without all this heat
Theyll be dancing west to east
This is the nature of the beast.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flower~
THE FLOWER
Have you wondered?
Wondered how I came about..
It was by the seed
The seed that got life!
Seed that is fed day and night
Fed with fertility and water
It took me a while...
A while to start merging
Merging from the womb
The womb of the earth
The womb that covers all
The womb that people step on
Made of dust, soil maybe sand
Merging out to see the light
Fresh air and sun light
Yes, I was first a seed then a plant
A plant that grew with colors
Grew tall and higher
Grew higher trying to reach the sky
I wasn't building a tower
Or try to gain any power
It was just me the flower
The flower that has color
The colors of my superpower
The colors that can be any talent
The colors that illuminate as sun rises
Yes! ! I am the flower
The flower that creates balance of power
The power that exists in life
More specific the balance in nature
Take me well...
Take me as you flower!
And let your eyes empower
Empower what nature offer as ours
Who Am I?
you all know me and you know my name.
i am something you can not tame
i can be as gentle and as soft
as a butterfly upon a flower.
or as unforeseen as the midnight hour.
you can love me or you can
hate me, but you can not forsake me.
i have been around since the beginning of time
i can be as hot as a flame
yet! cold as ice.
and without me you can not suffice.
i am all that you may want to be
and yet you can not see.
you feel my presence all around
and when you don't expect me
i will be found.
'i am'-a child of a mother called nature.
and she like me, is as beautiful as can be.
she can enslave you, or set you free.
the information i have given you
was a task.
'now is the question you must ask'
who am i?
I AM WIND.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Wild Honey-Suckle
Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,
Unseen thy little branches greet;
...No roving foot shall crush thee here,
...No busy hand provoke a tear.
By Nature's self in white arrayed,
She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the gaurdian shade,
And sent soft waters murmuring by;
...Thus quietly thy summer goes,
...Thy days declinging to repose.
Smit with those charms, that must decay,
I grieve to see your future doom;
They died--nor were those flowers more gay,
The flowers that did in Eden bloom;
...Unpitying frosts, and Autumn's power
...Shall leave no vestige of this flower.
From morning suns and evenign dews
At first thy little being came:
If nothing once, you nothing lose,
For when you die you are the same;
...The space between, is but an hour,
...The frail duration of a flower.
poem by Philip Freneau
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