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Back to the Poetry index.

     Poems of Nature       

Of, in or about Nature

Life Abounds In Nature's Sound - First serious poem kept
Dawn Sleep Tamed Meander Leaves, Breeze, Heaven... The Art Of Snow
Bare Imagination Butterfly Life Candied Leaves Fallís Recall
Field of Dream

Four Mood Swing

Innocence Life Leaves
Natureís Flight Nature Tempter Sand Some Snow
Snow Birds Up-Wish Voice Melodic Wonders

Last updated December, 2008   -  Request to use Materials

Dawn Sleep
 by Roger W Hancock

Crisp morning air of daybreak
mind awake with brisk alertness.
Thoughts of restless night converge,
as the dew upon fresh cut lawns.
Flowers closed for beauty of prose,
unfurl to morning light as dawn sleeps.

Dreams meander crisscrossing,
a craze of nightís storm debris.
Twisting, swirling ideas smashing,
lest awake to tether on paper.
Alert in calm of passing storm,
morning notes the sleeping dawn.

© January 16, 2008 Roger W Hancock

Sestina form of Poetry

Leaves, Breeze, Heaven View
 by Roger W Hancock

Upward through branch and leaves,
Light roar of gentle breeze.
Gently shivers, supporting spine,
Leaf flutters, floats from heaven.
Sparrows lift, light, in turn,
Bough to bough for better view.

Behold a sight of gentle view,
Natureís limbs and leaves.
Flight of flutter each in turn,
Glides upon calm breeze.
Beauty upward into heaven,
Chills run down my spine.

Tree trunks are natures spine,
Supports a natureís view.
Gazing upward into heaven,
Stretched boughs, sparse with leaves.
Bursting flight on gust of breeze,
Rioting chatter forgets each turn.

Waiting patient, for re-turn,
Fatigue sets in the spine.
Wind gusts settle back to breeze,
Calming sky blue view.
Waves of tethered lilting leaves,
Entice more sight toward heaven.

Anticipation of natureís heaven,
Returning flights, each fowl in turn.
Wild flock blends with leaves,
Natureís perch quivers spine.
Leaf, birds, discerning view;
Fluttered silhouettes on breeze.

Aching back still cool with breeze,
Stare affixed through heaven.
Shifting change, natureís view,
Wings in pair sails in turn.
Embellishment of natureís spine,
Winged companion to the leaves.

Breezing winds, flights in turn.
Heaven chills my spine.
Final view left only, lonely leaves.

© June 9, 2007 Roger W Hancock,


Tamed Meander
 by Roger W Hancock

Small creek among hills,
rolling, flowing with out will.
Fed by glacier mounts,
rain of thunder clouds.
Salmon home in calm,
species driven spawn.
Meandering eroding,
joining other brooks.
Far down greater cascade,
beyond next valleyís shade.
White roar warns of rapids,
womb of life or death.
Canoes once traveled,
natives paddled wake.
White way roped ferry,
traverse a great divide.
Native worshiped,
whiteman harnessed;
power of mass water,
river force to tame.

© June 7, 2007, Roger W Hancock,


    by Roger W Hancock

Looking, viewing, wondering,
Of all the stars, all the universes;
Man to find meaning,
Plots the constellations.


Looking, searching, wondering,
All the suns, and planets be,
Man still looking to the stars,
Surmise our origins.


Looking, studying, wondering,
All on earth and in the sky,
Manís belief in a godless faith,
Chose unproven thought.

© 10-16-06, Roger W Hancock

Nature Tempter
             by Roger W Hancock

Drawing seduction,
Draped alone outstretched.
Trees to shade the hour,
Attraction to resist.
Fence fanned by ferns,
Past grassy carpet turf.
Short forty wink nap,
Tucked by Mother Nature.
Among the beauty brush,
Hypnotic scene soothes.
Songbirds to entice,
Singing lullibyís in flight.
Seduced, eyes closed, onÖ
The hammock in our yard.

Copyright 12-30-03 Roger W Hancock

                 Natureís Flight

                                       by Roger W Hancock


Soaring, wings spread upon dynamic lift,

Gliding, floating sifting through clouds.

Join the eagleís flight until scurried rodent sight.

Diving down, down; talons spread nose dive to nearly crash,

Lifts again with flap of wings, payload now enclenched.


Flitting here, there among colored blooms,

Wings a fluttered blur, energies of blossomed sweets.

Radar picks flash of red, target of nectar feast.

Hovered short enough to catch fluttered flowered fruit.

Theory proven, job hummed in few seconds time, now gone.


Circling, gliding around and Ďround above,

Dark ugly creatures, circled march of death.

Anticipating flight to nourish upon an agonyís end.

Descending slowly sensing, weakening below.

Life end sustains screech of vultureís circle. 


Migration flight triangle formation,

Natureís sortie for warmer waters.

Motioned wings wave propellant goodbye.

Journeyed exodus of winterís harsh,

Gracefully southward in a squadron flock.


Robins, chickadees, bluebirds swirl, dodging every other,

Wide circling arcs of flight against clouded skies.

Falcon out of nowhere swoops chirps and cheeps to warn.

Flight plan this instant, safetyís nearest perch,
Into near barren tree to disappear from sight.

Copyright December 18, 2003 Roger W Hancock


           Sand Some
                   by Roger W Hancock

Waves breaking upon sand-less beach,
Frothing around the sun baked stones.
Towering above jagged cliffs,
Each alone sentries shore below.
Two nature beaten bonsai, giant mings,
Together, alone each one reaching.
Stretching away, outward, towards the other,
Two island trees no bridge to touch.
Captured by barren granite crags,
Close, though far, no loving comfort.
Seagull alights upon branch shoulder,
Friendship not, perches for fish to spot.
Pigeon messenger weary waits,
Seeking rest-rebuilding strength.
Visitors, every sort have stopped,
Everyone a purpose elsewhere be.
Though each a welcomed intrusion,
Does not satisfy the lacking, craving.
Sun scorched, barely living,
Wind whipped, growing, reaching.
Cliffís clefts secured foundation,
LestÖ embrace the sand-less shore.

Roger W Hancock
September 13, 2003



Bare Imagination
                          by Roger W Hancock

Eve darkens still hot from day,
Across wilderness pond,
Eerie eyes alone no form.
Still the stare glinting,
Upon cool waters,
Chills inward imagination.
Snap of a twig,
Hoots of an extinct owl,
Sounds too many to identify.
Imagination now on edge,
Sharpened by each sound,
Honed by shadow dark.
Crunching step to left,
Unexpected shaded form,
To right . . . I jump back.
Raging ball of brown fur,
Tall, hovering, poised to pounce;
Tribute to the taxidermist.

Copyright, August 3, 2004  Roger W Hancock


 by Roger W Hancock

Oh to be,
Oh to be free,
On gliding wings,
Thermalís upward lift.
Visions beyond,
Horizonís reach,
Morningís rising sun.
Summer's rays,
Off yonder beach,
Soft warm air,
On which to soar.
Singing glee,
Cheeps, Chirps,
Fluting free.
To be in airing play,
Caressing sunlit blue.
Wings unbound,
On evening breeze,
Sun sets to say goodbye,
Where birds are free.

Copyright April 5, 2004 Roger W Hancock


Four Mood Swing
                   by Roger W Hancock

Winterís dormant seed, dead,
Germinationís conception.
Overcast cloud filled day,
Gloom of raging storm,
Overshadows lifeís concerns.
Hope and faith build as,
Springís bud blossoms,
To summerís glory, shine.
Sunís warming heat of life,
Color blossom enlightens.
Time to slow to fallen leaves,
Autumnís color solemn.
Ever knowing all to end,
A cool winterís death.

Copyright April 11, 2004 Roger W Hancock


       by Roger W Hancock

Crystalline entity softly floats,
Among others from heaven fall.
Pressed, flaked, dry, moist, different,
Identity distinct, character unique.
To freeze now dry descent decrease,
Beginnings born, moist wet droplet.
Environment, character changes,
Still unique remains the same.
Warmer, slushed against each other,
Identities in oneness merge.
Atmosphere to earth controlÖ
Purity succumbs to influence.
Droplet, crystal, sludge imperfectÖ
Innocence now lost.
Copyright January 16, 2004 Roger W Hancock 


Snow Birds
            by Roger W Hancock

Early morn just twilight;
Chirping cheer silence breaks.
Sounding morning birds surprise,
Under eve near bedroom window.
Snowflake parachutes invade,

Lawn turns to carpet snow.

Copyright January 6, 2004 Roger W Hancock 


The following three poems resulted from an exercise on the website of the Live Poets Society.  The two phrases, "a great pile of leaves" and "with a voice as sweet as candy" were to have been used individually or together, of which I have done each.



Candied Leaves

                    by Roger W Hancock


The Children ran jumping into

a great pile of leaves.

Green leaves freshly fallen,

from trees half bare.

With glee the children play,

 tossing leaves into the air.

Yelling, screeching, howling,

of each one child, individually,

with a voice as sweet as candy,

together a vocal candy bowl.


 Roger W Hancock  ©  9-29-2002 



Fallís Recall

           by Roger W Hancock


Changing colors become fallís memo:

soon, so soon, leaves to rake.

Remembering last yearís children play,

among a great pile of leaves.

Natureís remembrance way.


 Roger W Hancock  9-29-2002 



from an exercise                   
Back to Index


Voice Melodic

               by Roger W Hancock


Sweet song of angels;

from among the choir,

crisp, clear, soothing tones.

A single solitary vocal,

 with a voice as sweet as candy.

Lyrics pale;

so lovely the voice.


Roger W Hancock  9-29-2002 





   Life Abounds In Nature's Sound

       by Roger W Hancock

River flows past rocks and logs, 'round the bend it rushes by;

the water flows it doesn't stop, ever moving ceasing not.

Forking 'round rocks it roars, babbling in the still it soars;

ever giving life to all, it's cries, its soothing hydrous call.

    Life abounds in nature's sound.  

Trees some long and some so wide, branches reaching to the sky,

swaying to and fro to stretch; providing shade and forest mulch.

Ruffling leaves softly float; snapping goes the twigs that broke;

nutrition to the forest floor; the leaf and branch gives gentle roar.

    Life abounds in nature's sound.


Birds they flit into the sky, wings outstretched on wind they fly;

darting here and dodging there; swiftly soaring through the air.

Flight long, wings do flutter; beak tuneful as they twitter;

seeds, pollen, job of sowing; sweetly humming, chirping, cooing.

    Life abounds in nature's sound.


Deer and elk and other game, through woods they romp, run and play;

trouncing free through dense meadow, the buck seeks pursuing doe.

Dashing through wooded brush, thinning thickets as they rush;

nibbling, foliage pruning back; neighing, mooing through the flat.

    Life abounds in nature's sound.


Eco systems so complex, what power can withstand the flex?

Moons, planets, comets and stars, what contains to bind them there?

Electrons, protons, nucleus; God's power is marvelous.

Creation came by God's own work, to make it so He gave His word.

    God abounds in His own sound.


Roger W Hancock  - ©  3-3-2001 


  The first serious poem written by the PoetPatriot.


Back to Index




The Art Of Snow

       by Roger W Hancock


Trees stretched branches bare,

covered white with early snow.

A view in the negative,

shadowed dark by light.

A grove of skeletons,

bones shaded by the real,

the trees to shadow snow.

Cobwebs frosted icy white,

highlighted by Godís nature pen.

No activity by the builder,

to spoil that view for you.

Then the plain white field,

can you see composed within?

In the middle hunching, shivering,

you must look so close to see,

white rabbit there, within the snow.


Roger W Hancock   ©  - 1-30-2002 



       by Roger W Hancock

Flakes of Ice crystals

Tiny, softly floating

Melting upon warmer ground,

cooling ground to freeze.

Softly floating flakes of snow,

builds upon the other.


Roger W Hancock   ©  - 1-30-2002 




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Back to Index




       Butterfly Life

       by Roger W Hancock


A butterfly but first a bug.

Squiggly crawling eating leaves,

curling up in pupa cocoon.

Time elapse, a transformation,

to emerge as a beauty-fly.

Flying free in beauty glory,

a mate to join, then eggs to lay.


Metamorphosis of life

be lessons in change.

Changes inevitable,

in all forms of life.


Beauty we enjoy of the butterfly.

Motion, beauty a metaphor,

of the life we wish to live.

Struggles in life a surety,

must come first before success.

In those trials, we must remember,

the butterfly was first a bug.


Roger W Hancock   ©  - 2-08-2002 


Field of Dream

       by Roger W Hancock


Running through field,

on a summerís day.

warmth of sun upon my face.

Fragrant scent of wild flowers.

Colored spots on canvas grass,

a view to please my eyes.

Birds above chirping song,

so free they fly into the sky.

A butterfly, disturbed, it flits,

darting here and dodging there.

I feel so free to run and play,

with no cares to care.

Happiness with so much joy,

dreams to dream of loveliness.

A time of joy for remembrance,

must surely be a dream.  

Energies spent, I lay down,

to awake within my bed.


Roger W Hancock   ©  1-30-2002 


Back to Index



Life Leaves

  by Roger W Hancock

 Hear the rustling of the leaves, wind blowing through the trees.

Just listen, leaves falling, swirling, twirling, through the air.

So silently no sound to hear, only brisk wind rushing by.

Swirling, twirling, down, down, to the ground, others lie.

Rustling many against others, together bunched communal sound.

Last conscious-less cry in death, deterioration next to come,

Nutrition be existence next, to feed the leaves next on the tree. 

Roger W Hancock   ©  1-30-2002 




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