Nature is as nature does
I walk on through the moor
To sit among the bed that was
A heavenly god made door
To pick my pen and write from thus
Of the shimmering beauty I see
Just so I can later discuss
How it can never match to thee
The darling beds of roses by
Fly among the flowers
How I wish that I could die
Among these April showers
To enjoy one's solitude
The remoteness of these hills
Is to express the beatitude
Of the passing by of the rill's
I sit and watch life go by
And never care to stop
Hang over mountains edge
Until I dare to drop
As I watch this wild garden grow
I hunger to express
The need to tell of what I know
Of this wondrous mess
Nature is what I intend
to write until I'm gone
To keep recording to the end
To look of each new dawn.
A contest entry
- Poems For The Poet by raspberry.
1890 points, ended May 3, 14 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Some of your word choices are just superb. I actually enjoy reading 'Olde' english so to find it here in your poem and some of the others in this contest has been manna from heaven for me. Well done. ~Von~Oldpoetry
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You have made a good attempt here dear.. thanks for this.. Do keep reading old poets, they teach us a lot!! Good luck in the contest..
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Thank you for this entry.
It has a nice feel to it and though the rhythm stumbles in places as you endeavour to maintain your selected rhye scheme the overall impression is good.
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