~ See The Leaves That Fall From That Tree ~ By LunaRoseAngel

See the leaves that fall from trees
Watch them fall to ground with grace
Carried by the winds of nature
They never stay in just one place

See the leaves that fall from trees
They grow from branches nice and quick
A seasons when they live their life
Full and short poisoned sick

See the leaves that fall from trees
The venom that we always share
We eradicate our mother nature
And the life that flows through air

See the leaves that fall from trees
They now shrivel up and fall
Don,t even let them their last breath
Grounded, lifeless no beauty at all

Now see the future of our kind
Our greed has brought us to our knees
We have condemned all forms of life
And drank the water of the seas

We have no second earth to hide
We had the cure to our disease
We need not much but open eyes
To see the leaves that fall from trees

Great poem LunaRoseAngel! What inspired you to make this poem?

Love of nature that I care alot about it Hoguan i've always been a child of nature love spending time outdoors when I can there's something about the outdoors that has me very fascinated by it.

Here's a poem about the season of Summer which is very close upon us am very excited I have alot of fun things planned to do for this summer like go to the beach.

~ A Time Of Freedom ~

Morning's soft air, touching everything with such care,
Caresses a young face, in a quiet secluded place.
Smile planted strong, heart beating on.
Only on thing is on her mind, and that, is summer time.

A joy reckless and wild,
that's been in the heart of every child,
now set within her,
for there is no cure.
Her spirit set free, soars higher than the trees.

The books that weighed her down,
now thrown on the ground.
The rivers cleansed from winter,
are now heated for splendor.

The happiness of knowing,
no bedtimes are set,
and so schedules to be met.
The sun now beating within her veins
washes away all her pains.

Then without a sound,
the sun starts to sink down.
so she heads inside,
satisfied,
until the next time.

But her spirit is just too wild and decides to wait awhile,
So it stays outside and watches the sun,
waiting for what is to come.

The birds fall asleep the peepers start to peep,
And slowly the sunbeams caressing the mountains,
Turn them into splendorous fountains.

That's really great poems LunaRoseAngel your very creative in writing and writing poems It looks like you may have a good career ahead of you if you get ito that field

Thanks I have alot of hopes with going that direction thank you for your nice comments am glad that you like my poetry so much,who knows really maybe I will become a famous poet but of course that takes time not every poet became famous right away.

~ Coda ~

Maybe it was jet lag, maybe not,
but I was smoking in the kitchen: six,
barely, still dark: beyond the panes, a mix
of summer storm and autumn wind. I got
back to you; have I got you back? What
warmed me wasn't coffee, it was our
revivified combustion. In an hour,
gray morning, but I'd gone back to my spot
beside you, sleeping, where we'd stayed awake
past exhaustion, talking, after, through
the weeks apart, divergent times and faces.
I fell asleep, skin to warm skin, at daybreak.
Your breasts, thighs, shoulders, mouth, voice, are the places
I live, whether or not I live with you.


Fog hid the road. The wipers shoved back torrents
across the windshield. You, on knife-edge, kept
driving. Iva, in the back seat, wept
histrionically. The crosscurrents
shivered like heat-lightning into the parent's
shotgun seat. I shut up, inadept
at deflecting them. A Buick crept
ahead at twenty-five an hour. "Why aren't
we passing him? My Coke spilled. The seat's wet.
You guys keep whispering so I can't hear."
"Sit in the front with us, then."
"No! I'll get
too hot. Is the fan on? What time is it?
What time will it be when we get there?"
Time to be somewhere else than where we are.


"What do we have? I guess we still don't know."
I was afraid to say, you made me feel
my sectioned heart, quiescent loins, and spill
past boundaries the way blackberry-brambles grow
up those tenacious hills I left for you.
Their gritty fruit's ripe now, but oceans still
separate us, waves opaque as oatmeal,
miles of fog roiling between your pillow
and mine while you say your best: sometimes, she's where
your compass points, despite you, though a meal
with me, or talk, is good . . . Where our starfire
translated depths, low fog won't let you steer
by sight. The needle fingers one desire,
and no other direction can compel.


If no other direction can compel
me upward from the dark-before-the-dawn
descending spiral, I drop like a stone
flung into some scummed-over stagnant well.
The same momentum with which once we fell
across each other's skies, meteors drawn
by lodestones taproots clutched in unmapped ground
propels me toward some amphibious hell
where kissing's finished, and I tell, tell, tell
reasons as thick and sticky as frogspawn:
had I done this, that wouldn't have come undone.
The wolf of wolf's hour cried at once too often
picks out enfeebled stragglers by the smell
of pond scum drying on them in the sun.


I miss you more than when I was in France
and thought I'd soon be done with missing you.
I miss what we'd have made past making do,
haft meshing weft as autumn days advance,
transliterating variegated strands
of silk, hemp, ribbon, flax, into some new
texture. I missed out on misconstrued
misgivings; did I miss my cue; boat? Chanc-
es are, the answer's missing too.

That's a really cool poem also LunaRoseAngel you have an amazing way with words

M!cH@3l 001 : Thanks am glad you like Coda the title reminds me of a Led Zeppelin song with that title am a huge classic rock fan by the way The Who is one of my favorite bands including The Rolling Stones.

~ As Seasons Step Aside ~ By LunaRoseAngel

As winter steps aside for spring
And everything is at peace
Flowers bloom and flowers dance
It's beautiful, to say the least

As spring steps aside for summer
And everything gets colored
Purples, pinks, greens, and blues
Now everything is brighter

As summer steps aside for fall
And everything gets muted
All color goes from bright to dull
Now everything is faded

As fall steps aside for winter
And everything gets quiet
Snow has muted every sound
Now everything is silent

The sun will set, the day will end
For now, the end is near
A new day dawns, bright and clear
A perfect day, a brand-new year

That's a pretty good poem as well but I like your other poems better

Thank you Mike you've been so nice with leaving comments for all the poetry that I posted sorry about the late reply I was busy with my job things have been so hectic blame my boss he gives me the day off and yet he calls me in to do something important.

~ Do You? ~

I bought you
A mockingbird - I thought it would be
Romantic like the song

It was young - too
Young so I left a libation
Of syrup and water on the asphalt
Instead of the rum it demanded

I put it in a box
Where you used to keep shoes
Before you wore them

I gave it worms to eat
And blackberries and chokecherries and a thimbleful
Of nectar for it to sip

I wrapped it in a tea towel
To keep it warm for the night - the many
Nights before you came
Back - it seemed like years
And was only a week

The box wrapped in paper only chirped
For three days

You didn't much like it
The mockingbird - the smell of decay
Off-putting when you tore the paper
Its chestnut-grey wings outstretched
Like a crucifixion and the nectar
Sticking its feathers to the tea towel

But after you threw it
Into the furnace you smiled
And said you loved me