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It was a bright, sunny day The hot sun was shining The sky didn’t look like the usual gray An old caveman took gigantic steps Outside of his cave
It's 4:00 am and it's pouring outside I want to reach my arms out To hold the hands of nature And tell her Everything will be okay
The soft breeze, the natural air, it's amazing. It's like it's making love to me. Saying it loves me, and cuddling with me. While the windy noises puts me to sleep, giving me a comfortable feeling.
Where the air flows fresh and crisp And life radiates shades of green And orange and red and colors That run deeper than the scars Of the Earth; Where the grasp of man halts, Giving way to nature,
Green sap oozing from great gashes in trees into paper, furniture, and houses all for human needs like the great stashes of black oil oozing.... into lakes, rivers, and streams
Beautiful is the Earth! Though not all things are mirth, Every small thing has worth. A yellow star presides; A white moon touches tides; A twinkling star abides.
I took a walk up to the hill It sure is a good night for this My arms feel the air and its chill The quiet sounds so much like bliss My feet crunch through leaves that fell down It is the only sound I hear
What do birds see When they watch me? How am I considered? Glancing downward, Oh little bird, You see many people. From sky or perch When your eyes search What do you find in us?
A man may have a solid build. Perhaps his hair’s softer than fleece. Thick arms might lift a girl with ease. Maybe his eyes with warmth are filled. Some men stand with a solid stance.
Your beauty surpasses that of women, Though poets compare their features to you. Soft hill’s curves are better to examine, Long hairs are pretty but long streams are true,
A flower now blooms, The soft green grass waxes tall, A tree gains a ring. The clouds become sparse. So, too, is water now scarce, And plants droop slowly. Fool: careless human
Though I am free, You could enslave me Like a master that enslaves scholars. Though I am resistant, You could poison me Like a predator that poisons its prey Though I am tough,
The sun rises from her eastern lair, She sounds like the hooting morning dove. The fresh smells that are everywhere Glow the reds and pinks that shine from above. The new dew on feet so bare
My daddy owns a forest The trees there are super tall Squirrels and dear and rabbits live in it I explore all the time I often play in the woods my dad owns I think there are a gazillion pine cones
Her Salted Kiss Scars, scrapes, bruises. inevitable remarks that tell a story her salted ocean breeze whispers in my ear
I remember my mother stating,"Im pregnant!" with such excitement only to come to realize that outr "father" had different plans for that baby.
The tree laughs Children play below On a hot summer day so slow The tree is shade And the tree likes offering aid The tree smiles A couple look deeply into each other's souls
Let me hold you. Let me hold you, expressed the flowing river. Let me lead you around the twists and bends. Let me expose you to the eb and flow of my waters path.
no soul in east williamsburg thinking about something other than walk my baby to school today, pour me a cup of iced coffee and put the lid on, someone spare me some change for a metrocard,
I close my eyes. I want to see The canopy of oaks Dancing together Swaying Their mossy branches Back and forth To their natural rhythm I want to smell
I watch her as the wind blows.
Red lava flows from fire-breathing beasts While ashes bury mouths, gasping for air. Remote clutched close, I stare at each deceased And blink my stinging eyes in silent prayer.
Though her face was young, her mind was mature She was shy but indeed she could allure She had the eyes of an owl and wisdom too And in the gusts of wind, her long hair blew
I'd like to take a second, Only a second out of your day. Please, listen. What do you say? Rushing, running, racing. Always in a hurry, almost like a chase. Not caring about others, or taking in the Earthly surroundings in your face.
I know how much she holds In the palm of her green hand Why they seem to spite her She will never understand Her tired eyes watch as they scratch at her knees More is what they want
Hands forcefully grasp mine suffocating kisses touches once welcome now repulsive. Figure in the back watches. I stare at headlights. Does our secret show? Flashback
This I saw on a February day: Fluttering of wings in the tears of the sky, Slumped arms of a cheerless Camphor tree,
Just Listen… Just listen to the words I have to say ‘cause it just might make a difference to you and me
I love the way the grass dances as the wind blows, The way the trees sway, And the howl of the wind. The sky is baby blue with fluffy, scattered white clouds. A chill creeps up my spine.
Who am I? I am the shelter for him and her I am Mother Nature Man cut down my trees Woman however use me for a decoration Flowers are pretty but they are meant to grow
Grass grows year round. It starts green and it turns brown, as the seasons change. Dirt becomes mud because of the rain.
Look around Tell me what you see It’s easy when it’s staring back at me May be foreign to the newest eyes Always pure behind the tallest disguise Let no fancy cloud your doubt It’s there, it’s there, shout
I hike on concrete toward concrete sky My oppressors are as easy as nectar from the mouths of flowers named in Latin In the clouds I see insincere rabbits and jagged dragons
At break of day, the sun slices through purple darkness of night illuminating sincere faces of mountain’s cliffs. Rainbows shimmer like mother of pearl through mist hanging on
The tall prairie grass sways, almost as if it’s dancing, in the breeze. The same light breathe of air blows over your skin, wrapping you in its embrace. The bright, shinning sun watches over you in its bed of pure blue.