17 posts
  • meenalochani 7w

    Country life

    From deep beyond the canyon rim,
    The moon appears upon the whim,
    Above the curtains and a hush,
    Too soon the sunlight begins to creep,
    On some fair lull of the velvet grass,
    Lit with the roses on their hue
    Along the green pastures of landscapes,
    Flock of sheep graze with delight,
    Shone through their sunset land,
    Beneath the banayan tree sits the shepherd playing his flute
    Weary farmer tills his farm,
    As he sing a folk song,
    After a long labour! For a season fine,
    He waits patiently to welcome Nimbus clouds,
    To give life for all the buried seeds,
    There stood a scarecrow in middle of the field,
    Upon the trail and in the ardent smile,
    Seemed a warning for little birds,
    Pastoral life was so serene,
    The Painting of a young artist was so realistic,
    That boost the poet to pen a short Poesie on country life

  • pallavi4 7w

    Pastoral poem

    I await in the vast harvested fields
    Listening to the wind whoosh past
    Nearby lie numerous bales of wheat
    And hordes of cattle tied to the masts

    There is a strange symphony in the country
    The landscape’s serene as far as the eye can see
    I feel the sublime and picturesque pastures
    Carry a peacefulness that washes over me

    And while I lay on the freshly mown grass
    I can hear the tinkle of the livestock’s bells
    Somehow that always makes me feel alive
    And with gratitude make my heart swell


    16th of October, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #pastoralpoem #pastoral @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • puchka 7w

    Cottages on stilts, on terraced hills
    Cotton Candy Clouds float in
    Whispering new verses
    Just you and me
    Leafing over pages of life script
    Nothing to cloud the euphoria over peace that reigns

  • shabz_felix 7w

    Pastoral life

    Precious memories sunset amused conditions
    Cool night suffering completed task
    Notes mountainous and valley our very birth mark
    Uncertainties of pursuing love notions

    Enjoying the view the night stars
    Folks time scary stories struggles in your fearful soul
    Drunkard wobbling after to much ginger beer and whisky
    Smelling incense whooshes over personal memoirs

    Reminiscing sipping tea of happy tones
    Face melted as I blink tears tracing petals
    Cough up black tea flower blossom
    The healing magic of the delicate unknowns

    Blowing away wilted leaves
    Zoom home birds fills the air
    in sweet colourful voices
    Enjoying the floating breeze

  • prem79 7w

    There's a poor straw hut
    Where I sip my first tea all organic
    Among the wild growth
    Those unexpected paddy growth
    The cricket that twitters in the day
    Uninvited peacocks that croons
    There's no luxury yet I feel luxurious
    Then I pondered
    It's not luxury that makes you rich
    Luxury is how you accept the world around you.


  • biha_soundarya 7w

    My dearly beloved
    The busy city we leave
    To the mountains we rushed
    To the valley we live

    My dearly beloved
    Calming Bhutan, Nepal and India
    Bustling America, France, and Australia
    To reside in nature we seek Himalaya!

    My dearly beloved
    The valley of Himadri, Himachal, and Shivalik hills
    We were summoned and we behove
    To Himalaya we build our love and thrills

    **She want this simple, peaceful., fulfilling life. The roller coaster ride all this while didnt do justice on her and of who she was. She wants to contribute to life, nature and love and so she hope one day to Himalaya she goes! **

    #pastoralpoem #pastoral
    #pod #tod_wt #writersbay @miraquill #miraquill @mirakeeworldwidewriter @mirakeeworld  @writersnetwork   #wod #mirakee

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    To Himalaya she goes!


  • deep13gk 33w

    Most favorite place on earth

    I remember that days when I am a child
    And I Leave in village with family
    And used to sleep with grandma
    Everyday we wake up early with the chirruping of birds because we sleep in
    Yard on charpai we used to play whole day in that yard with cousins without any worry and tiredness
    We used to play with mud on roof because in yard there little little worms in rainy days we make different things with mud likecircle, Triangle and toy etc
    That time was so good I miss that time we can't able to that piece here in city no matter what we do

  • shabz_felix 33w

    Pastoral life

    A long time a soul can tell
    Faith in God we dwell
    Strength of resilience
    Reflecting on pastoral experience
    Refreshing the rain due fall
    Cool breeze joy given to all
    Fresh hope in nature
    Colourful flower blending feature
    Melodious the birds vocal chord
    Singing in one accord
    Happiness mirrored natures beauty
    Tiny roses reveals their duty
    Portrait of God's glorious love
    shiny golden down on us from above
    Immeasurable gifts to make use of
    Simply perfect ,above all

    As pastoral life nature speaks to us
    We used to enjoy with no fuss
    Sighting the lilies as their grow
    And the water Brooks as they flow
    Watching my mother bake
    Breads and cakes
    And we the siblings rushing to overtake
    Leftover crispy Bread at midday break
    We used to play hopscotch games and skipping ropes
    That help us grow and copes
    Working together ,carry heavy loads on our heads
    Did not make us crack heads
    Actually make life easier to embrace
    Ready for strenuous race
    But regardless of our pastoral challenges
    We upheld good balances

  • royalqueen 33w

    Under the temple of the nourishing hill,
    Dawn rising to the melody of a conch shell.
    Aromatic basil releasing soothing incense,
    Sun burning at the heat of camphor essence.
    Herd of mooing cows grazing greenish lush,
    Holy water gushing, spotting deers on a rush,
    And pollinated lotus petals left with a blush.
    Cowherd boys circling around like an arena,
    Elegantly arrived our twirling Radha,
    Dancing to the tunes of fluting Krishna.

    #pastoralpoem #wod #pastoral #love #nature #devotion @mirakee @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork

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  • shay20s 33w

    Let us go where the fields are big and the grass is green.
    Let us turn off our phones and pretend only you and I are alive.
    Let us wake up to the rising of the sun cutting through the mountain tops.
    Let us runaway and never come back.

    The city is over crowded,
    The city is too loud,
    The city is exhausting and I'm tired now.

    I want to see the seasons change,
    I want to be part of the form it takes,
    I want breathe in the fresh air of the morning mist and on a beautiful spring day, I wanna dance, I want to dance as we hold each other close.

    Let's leave,
    Let's leave today
    and pretend the
    world we once came
    from has never been.

    #wod #pastoralpoem #pastoralpoetry #pastoral

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    I want to go where the
    city life sounds unknown,
    I want to go where the
    night sky is clear and
    the morning skies are clean.
    I want to be where it's gentle,
    and where where I can breathe.

  • writeriyaaa 71w

    a pastoral

    When you first offered me your love
    Sun-burnt and bristling
    I saw you smile
    Behind that scorched skin
    you were waiting.

    Like all firsts are
    I was beaming
    With nervous desires
    Waiting to be held and loved
    By a man,without raising his ire.
    When you first made love
    Whispering me a serenade
    I was restive and resistive at once
    Until i was smothered
    By the sunlit haze
    Your sharp gaze
    Picturing me as if
    I was a rural portrait.

    When you first left,
    Beckoned by the city,its muses, its mysteries
    You were already getting away
    Though you'd meet once in a while
    You were already forgetting
    The mess of idyllic summer days
    a young gal
    a naivete
    a poem for the winters
    But for me a long drawn wait.

    Summers have gotten away
    I have a babe, I've mourned few graves
    I hear that you're living downtown
    Now a painter
    Doing portraits.
    If you ever come by this place again
    I'll show you how to love again
    I'll still smell like mountain air
    If you need more art
    I'll be the flair
    I'll throw away this docility again
    For a summer love
    Because this Love
    This knows no pain.


  • sruthisankari 87w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #pastoral #poetry

    Pastoral poetry is known for exploring the relationship between humans and nature, and for romanticizing the ideals of a simple country life. A pastoral poem explores the fantasy of withdrawing from modern life to live in an idyllic rural setting.

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    My pastoral paradise

    Long stretches of yellow sand
    And expectant walks, lead to my land
    Where the sun shines in a clear sky
    Beyond the tree tops soaring high;
    Our fancy beds are made of grass
    Housing the passions of every lad and lass,
    Our children wake up with the sunflower
    And have smiles and laughter every hour,
    Our bamboo palaces savour fresh air,
    Chitter chatters are an everyday affair,
    Streams meandering through our paradise
    Whose beauty in words, I cannot much emphasize
    Grants us the friendship of fellow animals and birds,
    I'd call it perfect harmony, are there better words?
    There is always more than enough
    Even when the seasons are rough,
    Every nook and corner reflects peace and love,
    Come to my heaven, I will show you how!

    ©Sruthi Sankari

  • vaebou 91w

    Grab Thy Birch

    Trotting along the cold pastorals by sunset,
    When sky is just blood,
    rushing back to the sun.
    I pondered of life, and it's actuality.
    Hearkening the chirps of sparrows, flitter over the corn yield,
    I gazed upon one little sparrow,
    Away from others, strolling the field.
    picked a little birch, with its tiny beak, and broke into a terse dance of carefree.
    It flew away,
    towards a robins broken nest
    Hanging on a parched tree.
    Sutured the nest and fluttered high,
    Adoring the art and saying goodbye.
    Didn't it crave for luscious corn? Questioned I,
    Gawked at the others, that wriggle in joy.
    All hungry for corn but one for art,
    All fed their maw, but one fed its heart.
    Ephemeral hunger is to recur,
    Grab your birch through art's the cure.
    Sun hath set, and sky replaced it's canvas.
    while in being or esprit be at loss,
    Only the Art, discourses with cosmos.

  • ericwinnert 123w

    Some thing I just wrote. An exercise in making oppositions make sense.

    #writersnetwork @writersnetwork #mirakee @mirakeeworld #pastoral #opposite

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    Pastoral 1

    In the cold blue
    The warm sun
    Shines bright
    On the dark green.


  • sbsays 187w

    The Moor

    Feeling the soothing breeze
    Under the shepherds gaze

    The cattle and flock grazes
    The serne nature amazes

    The beauty of countryside is not a mirage
    Tranquility and delight come in a package


  • anvaya 187w

    This is a pastoral.

    A pastoral is a form of poetry which describes the lifestyle of shepherds herding livestock around open areas of land according to seasons and the changing availability of water and pasture.

    #pastoral @mrunaalgawhande @danny_a @laughing_soul @sbsays

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    Blowing at dandelions
    Which took to the blue sky
    Is the shepherd
    on a summer morn.

    With the golden sunshine
    Falling on green meadows
    Where upon are grazing
    The flock of sheep.

    Clear water trickles
    In the age old brook,
    Humming a lullaby
    To the shepherd.

  • sami_tunji 192w

    What I heard When I woke Up this Morning

    I heard the voices of my ancestors saying
    You're the right woman for me...