I Like Writing Bird, Nature & Pastoral Poetry

DailyArtsyCrafter

DailyArtsyCrafter

Crafter Writer Artist
Location
Southeastern US
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Pastoral poems usually make use of an idyllic setting, one that is completely, or almost entirely, removed from society. Usually, there is a single narrator who is engaging with the natural landscape in a meaningful way....promoting a simpler, more natural life. (Poem Analysis) I have poems about birds, Autumn, insects, weather, etc. I will be sharing them here. I mostly write free verse but sometimes I write rhyming verse.

If you like writing this kind of poetry or have some fav nature poems written by others, please share here in my diary. I will be trying to find images for those that I share but you don't have to have an image.
 

2dogs.jpg

TWO DOGS PLAYING IN THE SNOW

I saw two dogs playing in the snow.
They seemed preoccupied, though
They did look up once or twice.

They rolled around with vapor breath,
And hopped and jumped.
Under the snow they uncovered in spots,
Lay patches of grass the color of they,
Golden brown and pale like wheat.

Were they wild? I could not tell
As I quietly leaned over the concrete rail
Of the bridge that crossed the wintry stream.

They made no sound as they rolled around,
But panted and twisted upon the ground,
In spite of me as I looked down.

The bank was frozen along the stream,
But the two young dogs cared not, it seemed.
They played among the crackly tangle
Of frozen, prickly brush, and from my angle,
They seemed content.

***
 

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THEIR NATURE CALLS

From here to there.
From this yard to the next.
The birds hip and hop,
Seeming to never stop.
Anywhere they are free to go.
But go out they don't have to at all.
Except their nature
To each of them calls.
They can do as they please.
Staying or going.
They can do as they please.

***
 
you still around dailyartycrafe?? - here's one of my early nature poems

A never never day

I sat in frangipani glade
the dogs stretched out in midday haze
the seaward breeze moved gentle leaves
this never never land can freeze!

the early morns now cool and sharp
Gone is that humid apple tart
but still the sun creeps up the sky
and by midday has drooped the eye

just sit it out till twilight comes
and off shore breezes hum their tunes
the never never freeze at night
need canvas swag till bleak sunlight

the welcome tinge of daylight dawns
as dew hangs heavy, still not warm
the 'billy' lets off steam not dew
and soon cold hands have thawed anew

davey © 2023
 
smiley said:
you still around dailyartycrafe?? - here's one of my early nature poems

A never never day

I sat in frangipani glade
the dogs stretched out in midday haze
the seaward breeze moved gentle leaves
this never never land can freeze!

the early morns now cool and sharp
Gone is that humid apple tart
but still the sun creeps up the sky
and by midday has drooped the eye

just sit it out till twilight comes
and off shore breezes hum their tunes
the never never freeze at night
need canvas swag till bleak sunlight

the welcome tinge of daylight dawns
as dew hangs heavy, still not warm
the 'billy' lets off steam not dew
and soon cold hands have thawed anew

davey © 2023
Click to expand...

Hello Davey! Yes, still here. Planning to add a poem today. I like your first line. It is so expectant. I found out that frangipani is type of plumeria flower. They're very pretty and come in a variety of colors. The whole first stanza is lovely.

Other fav lines in your expressive nature poem are:

but still the sun creeps up the sky
and by midday has drooped the eye

the never never freeze at night
need canvas swag till bleak sunlight

the welcome tinge of daylight dawns
as dew hangs heavy, still not warm

I enjoyed reading this. It almost lulled me to sleep. Thanks for sharing.

Sandi
 
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AT MY WINDOW LOOKING OUT

A touch of sun upon the morn’.
A beautiful morning will be born.

Birds are hopping in the grass.
In the crystal dew they bask.

Squirrels fritter to and fro.
Upon the grass the morning glow.

And at my window sitting I
Enjoy the beauty with a sigh.

***
 
Never Never Landscapes

they stand unmoving in the sun
these never never sentinels
they watch aloof as we pass by
this is 'our land' the old catch cry

from granite outcrop; gnarled twisted trees
in harmony they catch the breeze
we've been here from the dawn of time
your cameras can't see our minds

we've watched the rivers twist and turn
grow into sand and then return
we shared this land with those we knew
would save the gifts the gods imbued

and then we watched the concrete streams
cut through the land fractured 'dreamtime' dreams
you didn't want to touch our stone
rest 'neath our trees; hear hunting calls

you stayed upon your concrete streams
lived your lives with man-made dreams
you turned your backs on all the Gods
who forged this 'never never' lodge

but we still stand; unmoved, unmanned
we'll watch you die and turn to sand
then welcome back the roaring streams
and hear once more the 'dreamtime' dreams

the concrete streams will crack and break
and trees break through with green replace
we're called the 'never never' land
twas crafted with almighty hand!

Davey © 2023

these are two distinct aussie bush poems that came from the environment I live and once worked in
 
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A Touch Of Fall

I saw a touch of fall today.
It was the morning when I walked.
The coming season to me talked.

The turning trees along the way,
Were not quite turning yet, but I
Expect to see it by and by.

The sky was cloudy, heavy, gray.
As I walked on, I heard a word.
It was a bird, but that’s absurd.

For birds a word they cannot say.
But in my fancy on my walk,
Imagined I the bird did talk.
*****
 
Stormy.jpg

Stormy Birth

Rolling, roiling,
Boiling, blowing.
The stormy sky
Writhes and groans,
Twists and moans.
An abyss forms
Between dark-visaged clouds.
Tears of rain fall
As the sky joyfully
Births the storm.
 
This is one of my favorite poems. I love Robert Frost.

The Road Not Taken​

Play Audio
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
 
TeePee said:
This is one of my favorite poems. I love Robert Frost.

The Road Not Taken​

Play Audio
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Click to expand...

Thank you for sharing that lovely poem. He is truly one of my fav writers and only 2nd to Edgar Allen Poe. I have a book of his works and I've written a couple of poems in his style.
 
@TeePee This is my fav one of his. I love snow so much and his method of writing.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
 

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