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Just some poems
about nature.
Seasons
Red Rose
The Rose Garden
Four Haiku
Mountain
The Thunderstorm
Yearning
*ALL BELOW NEW, 9/12/01*
Two Part of Speech Poems
Snowy White
Blizzard
Another Haiku
Seasons: 4/22/99. This and the next two were written
at that 'Take Our Daughters To Work' Day that most of the love
poems were also written at. It's blank verse and I'm not really
sure where the idea came from.
In Spring the lady Nature is a young girl on the threshold of
womanhood.
Springtime is a maiden's kiss, gently warming, without hot passion.
It is the first blush of beauty in a young woman, hinting at more
brilliant glory to come.
Nature's beauty in Spring is shy, yet profuse, little flowers
peeping through the grass.
Spring is the time of simple pleasures, of sweet breezes, of young
love.
In Summer lady Nature has matured.
Summer is a lover's kiss, hot, burning with passion, yet languid.
The beauty of youth gives way to the beauty of womanhood, showy
and glorying in life.
Summer is the time of lovers' joy, languid hot breezes, and thunderstorms.
In Autumn our lady exchanges the heat of Summer for the maturity
of older life, for Nature is now a mother.
Autumn is a mother's embrace, lingeringly warm and comforting.
There is a fading glory in Mother Nature's beaty now, calmly floating
colored leaves.
Autumn is the time of families, love that will last the first
heat of Summer's passion, and of crisp days spent leaping into
leaf piles.
Old age comes at last to Nature in the winter.
Winter is, to our lady, the kiss of death. The cold grows
nearer.
The beauty of Winter is hidden and still- a few hardy flowers,
a snowy landscape.
Winter is the time of old love, of 'Ever After's', a time of snow
and of death. And yet, when Winter ends, it is Spring again
and lady Nature is a maiden once more.
Red Rose: 4/22/99. I think this and the last
come from the same train of thought about changes of nature symbolizing
stuff to do w/people and the circular nature of life.
Love is a red rose.
Before it blooms, it feels the hint of glory.
The rosebud, like a new love, has great potential.
It may bloom someday into a lasting love,
or perhaps it will be cut off.
When the bud opens, love unfolds.
It grows stronger, yet must ever be garded,
from pests and disease.
When the bloom dies, spreading petals, life is ended.
The lovers have died, but the leave the seeds of love,
there for the next generation, for the next rose.
The Rose Garden: 4/22/99. Hmm, does Penny have a rose fixation anyone?
In the park there is a little rose garden.
The roses grow leafy green,
and tell me of the things they've seen.
Lovers walk here in the moonlight.
They sit on the trellised seat,
And whisper nothings that are sweet.
Children come here on summer afternoons.
Entertaining as they play,
In their own worlds far away.
A couple got married here once.
the roses saw that first kiss,
that leads to eternal bliss.
Grannies stop here in the afternoon.
They sit and talk of olden days,
Missing different ways.
Birds come here to nest,
Guarding their children in the spring,
Until they are old enough to take wing.
Perhaps, someday you'll stop and wait.
Listen carefully, as I do,
And many a tale will the roses tell to you.
Four Haiku: (1996-97) These and most of the rest
of the poems were written at some point in my eighth grade year,
when we did a poetry unit. I didn't write all the poems
for the unit, but it was sometime that year.
Grass on a lawn
A sea of pointed green blades,
rippling in the wind.
Sun rising at dawn
Though it will fall at sunset,
Hope rises again.
The roses of Peace,
white blooms opening slowly,
They herald war's end.
A tree climbing vine,
enveloping the old tree,
with a best friends's hug.
Mountain: (1996-97) We had to write a poem
from a picture they showed us.
A silhouette against the cloudy light.
The somber mountain stretches,
Still and forbidding to the right.
Cut only by the streak of the silver stream,
like hope in a long black night.
The Thunderstorm: (1996-97) I wrote this one on my
own after a thunderstorm. I used to tell my little brothers
that thunderstorms were either dragons or giants bowling.
A great grey dragon, over the sun does fly,
His beating wings make wind upon the Earth,
His flaming breath illuminates the sky,
And his roar echoes in his mirth.
Then, he becomes a thunderstorm and rains upon my head.
Yearning: (1996-97) I remember walking home one
day and looking at the cloudy sky and the first line of this poem
shot into my head.
Yearning is a cloudy day,
when the rain threatens but never comes.
When the cold wind makes one wish for the sunshine,
of past summer days.
Yearning is a loveless night,
when the stars shine on you alone.
When the full moon makes you wish for the bright love,
who has left you behind.
Two Part
of Speech Poems: (1997, 3/17/01)
Teachers from MS to HS had us writing the same formula poems.
The tree
tall and leafy
cooling and shading
my spot.
The grain
curled and darkened
contrasts and enhances
beautifully
the wood.
Snowy White: I have no idea when I wrote this, I found it
sitting around on my computer. Probably something for the 8th
grade unit on poetry.
Snowy white the landscape gleamed,
Snowy white laced the trees,
Snowy white the candycane stripes seemed,
Snowy white is the deer he sees.
Snowy white was that winter day.
Blizzard: (3/21/01) We had to write a "string poem"
which our teacher described as poems w/no real rhyme scheme or
meter but a surprise ending. So I wrote one perfectly describing
that day.
The weatherman told us
it would snow.
More snow than we'd seen
since the early 1990s.
They even used the word
BLIZZARD.
So when I woke up
I jumped out of bed, and
ran to the window to see.
What snow?
All there was, was
RAIN!
Another Haiku: (2/9/01) My teacher found it amusing.
Silent old forest
We live in the city now
Do you pine for us?
