Nature Poetry: Skimming Stones

I’m posting this poem as I think it quite fits with my next (and last) Lake District Chronicles post, which will be live next Sunday. Another of my poems written whilst at university, this was inspired by how the simple act of skimming a stone can drastically change the appearance of the water. Let me know your interpretations!

Skimming stones

A pool lays secluded

beneath the weeping willow

whose tendrils tickle the surface.

The silent kingfisher perches,

cleaning his feathers, as minnows

begin their calm procession.

Where the water is shallow

you can see the glint of gold

in their scales. A lost time

when the world was serene.


Then you started skimming stones.


The smack as the perfect flat stone skips across the surface,

small explosions as it crosses the standing water.

Ripples spreading out, battling to reach their widest scope,

rolling over one another until the large rings merge –

fade to the tranquil mirror


but the stone still rests at the bottom.


Nature Poetry: roam free

I started this blog as a little exploration of my own creativity, which also meant the inclusion of poetry. So, today, I am sharing a poem which I wrote whilst in my second year of University as it feels quite fitting. I hope you like it and please leave comments below!

roam free

to feel the world against my skin

the beauty of a single puddle

Cerulean Blue of a serene sky

tells me the storm is passing by


the wind sings of fantastic destinies

the ability to fly through distant lands

travel the seas with migrant swallows

watch diving gulls catch their supper


traverse the Alps to the highest point

watch magnificent eagles glide below

freedom circling the fir tree tops trying

to pick mountain hare from the snow


I’ll sweat from the heat of African desert

cross paths with regal lion or rascal hyena

multitude of colours in the hazy distance

a mystery waiting to be explored


Australia bound I’ll swim with the sharks

Great Barrier Reef’s magnitude of coral

scuba diving in this myriad of rainbows

bake to a crisp in hot orange sun


on to Old Faithful at Yellowstone Park

hot hissing geyser shooting 100ft high

magma lies beneath threatening through

the bubbling mud and spluttering springs


this just a snapshot of possibility

so many more expanses to traverse

my mind wanders in endless opportunity

I roam free in a world of open doors