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Writer's picturecoreythecollins

Updated: Nov 16



Whispered Verses in the Woods to Any and All Life That Can Listen to What’s Behind the Words. To The Rest Of You It’s A Poem About Reading Poetry To The Animals And the Trees And Plants and Fungi And The Wind Even. If It’s Entertained Enough By The Poems That Is.”




In the quiet noon of the woods, beneath the whispering trees,

i sit with a book of poems, knee to knee and knees to chest.

A fox pauses, curious it sits.

It’s tail at ease as i begin to read,

my voice of course is doing its best.


Words drift like leaves as they fall to the ground, light, airy and kinda slow.

Their meaning carries more than sound, an energy so pure and

an unspoken promise of peace begins to grow,

Bridging hearts, where the intentions assure.


A deer steps closer and stares at me wide with wide eyes that are full of grace,

it’s ears twitch to the rhythm

of my gentle rhyme,

the poem flows along softly, filling the space,

an exchange of calmness transcending time.


Birds perch above in the trees, silent and still.

Their songs momentarily given to my verse,

through the lines, a silent bond we fulfill,

a beautiful mutual understanding of the universe.


Each creature listens, not to the words i speak

but to the love and peace they feel inside.

A harmony ancient and so profound, yet meek,

where the essence of life peacefully resides.


As the last word fades away and the silence grows.

Not empty, but full. Full of what we've shared

in this sanctuary where each soul knows,

that love needs no voice, and peace is declared.


Here, among my friends, wild and free,

i learned the language of the earth and sky.

They told me a silent poem, a living decree,

where silent whispers of love will never die.

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Writer's picturecoreythecollins





The way the oranges and yellows

in the sky

turn blue right before your eyes. 


The way the trees slowly fade

to darker making the line between them 

and the sky a bit starker. 


The rippled reflection of a beauty perfected. 

Writer's picturecoreythecollins

Updated: Jul 30




Breath catches,

warm then cold,

birth into fading.

Sunlight against closed eyelids,

swallowed by a hungry dark.

A child's laugh,

echoing down a long,

shadowed hallway.

Touch that soothes,

then claws that tear.

The scent of earth after rain,

the acrid sting of betrayal.

Heaven whispered on a lover's lips,

hell blazing in a stranger's eyes.

Are we angels in tattered wings,

or demons cloaked in gentle light?

Just echoes bouncing off

the walls of night and day,

becoming and unbecoming,

with each stolen breath.



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