My poetry eBook is finally complete!

Poetry eBook poster of rabbits, a bumble bee, a fox, and Bridget Webber’s writing quill, announcing her nature poem book.
Poetry eBook poster of rabbits, a bumble bee, a fox, and Bridget Webber’s writing quill, announcing her nature poem book.
Author’s Design Courtesy Canva

Nature Poems to Warm the Heart and Nurture the Soul

Amazon Author Page Description:

Nature Poems to Warm the Heart and Nurture the Soul contains 100 poetic verses to help you relax amid natural wonders. From ‘Polar Bear Nights,’ where ice-stars clink and jostle for space in the cosmos, to ‘Spring’s Song,’ where ‘birds sing the plough deep,’ Chapter One transports readers through the seasons.

The ocean and the shoreline take precedence in Chapter Two, which invites you to dive into that soul- nook ‘where fond recollections of seashells and waves live.’ …


A Christmas poem

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I set myself a challenge to pen one Christmas poem a day.

Each berry, ripe, sung winter’s song deep into the night.

Its melody flew on ancient wings to soar across a snow-capped mountain.

There, eagles circled,

twisting and soaring.

A dance amid the white flakes and chill wind.

Now we bring the berries in,

to hang in cozy homes.

The fireside crackles,

and mulled wine warms,

as lips meet beneath the druid’s magic chimes.


Xmas poetry

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I set myself a challenge to write one festive poem a day until Christmas.

That shiver song inside the coal-chill and ice white gleam,

accompanies the far-off jingle,

the hoof clatter,

and Christmas songs sung beneath the tree.

Owl breathes in notes of cheer from a chorus.

Those melodies of old cling and jostle.

They bounce from twig to pinecone.

And the night bird peeks out to watch the music dance

as goodwill lights the depths.


There’s still magic between the snowflakes

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being six and the long wait beneath the covers.

listening for the reindeer’s clip-clop atop the roof –

and,

once again,

I sink back to childhood,

far along the memory tunnel,

to find the spark,

the warm heart,

close to bursting at the seams.

I note the bubbling up of that gasp at snowflakes falling through the dark,

the scamper to the window,

and parting the curtains.

The stocking check,

ten times an hour,

(at least)

to see if Santa’s been yet,

and my breath amid the concentration of it all.

And,

though now,

old enough to be a…


Little Christmas poem

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I set myself a challenge to write one festive poem a day until Christmas.

His trail sparkles through the dark.
It lights the way for the woodland creatures to scurry in the garden.

They navigate by cosmos gems,
diamonds, rubies, and pearls until they reach the Christmas tree decked in emerald and sapphire treasure.

Even the badger throws off her winter quilt to dance and make merry under the magic moon.


A short tale under the moon

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Sleighs take off into the night. They pass inflated snowmen on their way to the cosmos, and Copernicus, my canine companion, is thoughtful about the situation.

“Do you imagine,” he woofs, “people need to find that inner warmth. You know. The kind that comes from carols, tinsel, and eggnog?”

We stare at our neighbor’s Christmas tree. I look for the star at the top. …


A poem

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Let it blaze warmth into your bones,

casting demons from their shelter.

If they should dance before you,

hellbent to cause mayhem,

whisper love songs through the haze.

They’ll shrink as pink flowers,

scattering sweet fragrance at your feet.


She casts her spell as the day ebbs

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As light fades, I scour the horizon and note rook-lined tree silhouettes. My mind expunges greyness and replaces it with sunbeams. Cleansed of nightfall, the woodland glows. But the gleam is silver, like the moon.

At last, a star blanket spreads across the sky. It is rich with bright embers strewn on deep caerulean. …


Meditating among gentle nature

A man and dog enjoy the beauty of nature in the evening woodland sunset.
A man and dog enjoy the beauty of nature in the evening woodland sunset.
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I breathe out troubles — those tiny worries that seem huge, yet mean little when the sun shines through the branches. They swim, bone-surface, out into the chirp and forage, the busyness of wildlife behind the calm exterior.

Forest-bathed, I glide, light now after the immersion, and note the sounds of the natural world gather speed as I am still. The wind rustles copper autumn leaves. The horses in a nearby field gallop and whinny, and squirrels’ scamper. …


Short story

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He gazes at the computer screen, longing to look something up. Unearth some reasonable data he didn’t know before now to cast away the gloom.

He taps ‘weather’ into the search engine. There’s a 99% chance it will rain in approximately 15 minutes at his postcode.

A 1% chance it won’t, of course.

He wants the almost impossible to occur and glances out of the window in defiance.

I dare you, he thinks. Show me. Just show me it’s possible for that 1% to win.

Five minutes pass, and he considers lunch. Macaroni? A sandwich? But part of him waits. He waits for the 1% because it signals hope. Hope for everything he wants. …

About

Bridget Webber

Writer, poet, storyteller. https://muckrack.com/bridget-webber-1 Author Page Amazon https://tinyurl.com/y2cgqhgv

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