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Showing stories tagged with #nature-personification Clear filter
Come back my Sun, Come chase the Dark, Come dance and play. Your brother Rain, Has spoilt it again, Angering his father River. Come back my Sun, Smile us light, Shine us the way.
In the sky the sun lies,. Waiting for a fight,. Sending clouds as his spies,. To battle stars night,. He's piercing our skin,. And he's blinding our eyes,. Throwing out light as if we were a bin,.
#movement. Warning also contains one swear word. She's coming to get you. Don't turn around. There's nothing that won't stop her. Her feet don't touch the ground. As fast as lightening.
Fingers of light materialised Amongst the towering trees They beckoned and pulled at me Until I accepted the invite.
Turn up the temperature. To nice and hot and humid. Get all your ingredients ready. The calm before the storm. Gather up some clouds and rough them up a bit. to help produce some sparks.
#100days She can be cruel they say Not always so kind. A harder task mistress You never could find. Impersonal you think. You may be right As you watch, an onlooker Her kingdom's fight.
Her figure of perfectly placed curves, You have to stop and observe, She radiates a maternal feel, Her eyes so deep so surreal.
You all call me more forgiving, New life leaping forth each spring, Loving mother who gives birth to flowers, Suckling young and birds who sing.
From my window I see the garden and the community there. The hawthorn and bramble carefully compare thorns. Notes on thorn-care and preventing breakage are shared.
The patch is in fact wild grass the tall strands waving wildly, the sunrays making them gleam as if they were angry with natures beam.
If flowers could natter And trees could talk, Would they say hello Or nothing at all. Would they tell us to pick them With heady perfume. Or shout 'No, leave us. You want us too soon!'.
I saw Winter beneath a spindle tree, She plucked berries bright to crown her head. She was singing little robin's song While wild beech-leaves round and round her spread.