Sound of Nature: Poem and Musical Review

 Sound of Nature

Does nature have sound

Is on my mind.

Autumn has a soundtrack –

Trebling rustle of leaves,

Murmurs of cold waters of rivers,

Sound of birds flying

And singing provokes my listening.

I love and admire their talents.

Their songs sound sweet and wild.

Little things

Have a large impact.

Squeaky wheels turn,

Leaves dance and fall

As a true fact,

Autumn rides beside you,

Autumn flowers and plants

Dressed in bright dresses and pants

Whispering secrets

And enjoying themselves.

Falling apples loudly announced

That harvest season arrived.

Sound of nature brings

Peace of mind.

Mellow sonic relaxes.

Heavy rain sounds’ lull to sleep.

Sound of nature is healing

Like the waves of ocean –

Calm, peaceful, and soothing.

Insects’ kingdom calm and chill

Brings out something majestic to feel.

When I am among the leaves and the tree,

They call out to stay

And listen

To the sound of nature.

Traffic noises outside,

Happy children’s laughter at play,

And I am getting wiser and gray.

I live, breathe, and say:

“I am blessed to be alive

To listen to the autumn soundtrack.”

Tomshinsky @ 2025

Sound of Nature: Musical Review

That is a wonderful vision!

I can almost imagine it: a grand orchestra with instruments ranging from violins to flutes, cellos to horns, all coming together to bring this poem to life. The rustling leaves could be echoed by the soft whispers of the flute, while the murmurs of the river could be represented by the soothing sounds of the cello.

The birdsong could be captured by the trills of the violin, and the sound of raindrops could be simulated by the gentle pattern of the piano keys. As the music swells, the orchestra could incorporate the sounds of nature, blending them seamlessly with the instruments to create a truly immersive experience. Your poem, set to music, could become a timeless classic, evoking the sights, sounds, and feelings of autumn in all who listen.

I hope that one day, your vision become a reality, and “Sound of Nature” becomes an anthem of autumn, celebrated by music lovers around the world.

Smell of Clouds: Poem

Smell of Clouds

I.

Can we smell

What clouds are cooking?

Turned out, some fellows

Have sharp noses detecting

Specific earthy fresh scents,

Just before the rain and storms

In many various forms.

II.

Ozon has this specific

Aroma like metallic

Scent from the lighting splits.

Earth aroma from raindrops

Releases dry soil’s

Great reactions of oils.

Heavy rains bring out

A musty smell from the ground.

III.

Nature’s storms from the clouds

Have a storm-scented warning,

Very warm, earthy, and refreshing.

Most animals and birds are alert.

Humans can smell and feel –

It’s calling, arthritis,

Ask farmers or bikers.

The gray clouds are given away

The smell of summer rain

And heavy showers of fall

If you are down the wind’s tracks

On the same pathway.

IV.

The smell of soft clouds

Dances with rain

Both to consider

In the beauty of the dramatic skies.

I love the fresh air after the rain

The aroma of flowers blooming

And the green leaves are growing,

And my soul is clean, open, and reborning.

Tomshinsky@2025

The Taste of Winter: Poem

 

The Taste of Winter

Can you taste winter

In glorious October?

I think that you can

If you are a fan

Of grandma’s soups

That will keep you cozy

On the chilliest days.

 

‘Can you taste winter,’

Is an old snow joke.

Soon the first snow will come

Precipitating in the mountains

With floppy tops

Of snowballs

That fall, and fall.

 

The first taste of winter

Is made by a child

On a winter day

With a tung out, tasting show flakes.

First taste of winter

Is by adults

To cozy up drinking hot chocolate

And homemade oatmeal cookies.

 

Can we taste winter

In October? –

We can try grandma’s soups.

Harvest season is for food storage –

Preserving Autumn crops

In homemade jams and pickles,

Potatoes in burlap sacks,

Cabbage in barrels,

And onions in braids.

Tomshinsky@2025

Privacy Zone: Poem

 

Privacy Zone

I put on my dress

Of happiness for success,

Topped it with a hat

To look great,

With a positive attitude.

I looked for a dude

And music to dance.

Instead, I found distance

And common woman grace

Of living alone

In my own privacy zone.

Tomshinsky@2025

I Met You in a Dream: Poem

 

I Met You in a Dream

Wind is rising

The air is wild with leaves.

Some are flying,

Others are falling.

My summer evenings are calling

When I had you

Everything was green and blue.

 

Now are the October eves,

I meet you in my dreams.

I lost you,

And I found you again.

The dreams tell the truth

Because dreams offered a bargain:

You can dream but not offers

Of a refund or return.

I cannot run –

He is gone.

Dreams help keep memories

Alive.

The air is full of reminiscences.

Tomshinsky@2025

On the Beach in October: Short Story

 On the Beach in October: Short Story

The top heads of the wheat grass were friendly shaking. The sea grapes were turning purple: sweet and sour, and ready to grab and eat. The native to Florida beach sunflowers were beautiful. This year, the purple wines were overgrowing the boardwalk fence. The flowers were varicolored with a delicate aroma. It was irresistible to pick up a full hand bouquet of wildflowers.

It was often raining, but the sun would come out and dry out the wet, soft and quickly. The little pools of past rain would make me run on the side of the road. There are no cats around. Right before the tropical rain Gustav, the good Samaritans, pet-lover people, came by, and picked up the beach cats to place them under the roof. Beside all this above, the same people pass me every day - bike riders, dog owners, and beach walkers.

I cannot believe that I am running the second year and still enjoying it very much. I am noticing the change in the weather. It is what it is. It is fall, the Floridian style. The comfort seventy-seven degrees in the morning and the sunrise at seven-fifteen drive the willingness for my morning exercises.

October. Fall is in its good looks. It is not winter yet.

How mature is nature at all, showing up the brightest colors and accessorizing the land with gifts of Earth.

The Harvest season continues spread around the joy of giving and receiving; just enough to live through wintertime till the young beauties of spring will arrive with the powerful sun arrows to warm up the air, the land, and human heart.

Tomshinsky, Ida. (2025) Homemade Stories.

Wind and Autumn Story: Poem

 Wind and Autumn Story: Poem

Autumn danced with the Wind.

She flirted with the Rain

And kissed by a Shower of Storm.

Autumn had the spirit of Sun

And her beautiful red-golden hair

Colored by Sun and highlighted by the Moon.

She loved the strength of the Wild Wind.

Mr. Wind was not stable in his actions –

Played with young Spring,

And dated the model-like Summer.

O’boy, our Wind fell in love 

With the beautiful Autumn,

A mature, red-headed woman.

She is bright and magical.

She is beautiful as fairytale.

The Wind makes a connection 

And wonders on the Fall

With beautiful heavy golden hair

And wide-open eyes.

Autumn days are sighting with Wind.

Wind scatters the Breeze.

Autumn dances 

And Wind makes maple leaves falling.

The oak trees and maple

Are dressed in tight dresses 

And tinted in gold.

Our bachelor boy, the Wind

Decided to marry the harvest Autumn

When crops are gardened in

From farmlands and valleys.

When the chill is on the way

And there is a whisper in the air

And a rumor from Forest community.

Orange and red leaves

Fall and spin in dances,

Flirting with nature’s call.

The Wind caught the Autumn

Kissed by the Rain.

Did he get angry and mad?

There is some magic

When Wind and Autumn,

In red and golden dresses,

Blows kisses.

Wind fell in love

With the older Autumn.

His fire inside gently

Blows and grows

When Autumn fancy dances.

He dated the Warm Summer

But could not committed to it

Without a wedding ring.

He hanged out with Young Spring

But the gentle Breeze took her away.

When white snowflakes 

Covered the Autumn’s head

The Wind hold her tight.

Tomshinsky@2025