poems-about-rocks

46 Poems about Rocks to Tell Stories of Millions of Years

Rocks are more than just inanimate objects; they are storytellers of millions of years.

Poems about rocks give voice to these ancient witnesses, revealing their secrets and offering a glimpse into the earth’s history.

From famous and classic to short and funny, these poems explore the many facets of rocks, celebrating their unique beauty and power.

Whether you’re a geologist or simply someone who loves the outdoors, these poems offer a creative and imaginative way to connect with the natural world.

So take a journey through time and space with these rocks poems, and discover the hidden stories that lie within them.

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Famous Poems about Rocks

Explore famous rocks poems of renowned poets who have been inspired by the enduring beauty and power of rocks.

1. Earth Messages

       by Karina Dove

From the sleeping dream stone
a message from the past
rose quartz with turquoise eyes
speaks of things that last
in my hand I grip solid core
unlike fossils deep in caves
shadows under silent cliffs
teardrops from silver moon days
stalagmites dripping crystal rain

Turquoise a blueing canvas
bits engrained in stone henge days
patterns from stars over seas
etched in a geode daydream
postcards from totem clouds
water, sky, earth and fire
Celtic circle, a rooted desire

A face of the ancient of days
embedded from Eden’s heart
waiting just waiting for a hand
to dig deep in red clay sand
decipher what the omens say
I see a portrait of mother earth
sonnets the archangels sang
and unicorns tread underway

2. Blood of Ice

       by Eyewind

Writing style ice Eyewind
writing style foundry of Eye and wind meaning
Ice blood, ice nails, ice smoke
and hands of smoke of ice
green stems of ice and soil of red flower
Bloody fist of ice on bloody lips of ice
Ice feet on ice head and bloody eyes of ice
Bony flower of ice head
Butterfly wings are bony and
She’s wings are icy
The rocks are the laughs of the ices
Woods are the embodiment of the inside
Of faces of ice
The shadows of the two lovers
goes to the moon in the ice
The world of ice has mountains
of ice in it
Which is on the icy leaves
Inside eyes of ice is houses of
The waves of the seas and lovers
float on
Seas in the form of walking
of feets and
The sea in the form of sounds
of ices
The ices melted and the stones
on the heads and
Sleepy heads and meat eater heads
My hands takes to up
the waves of the seas
Of Hairs of ice
What is blood of ice?

3. I Want to be a Rock

       by M Lee Dickens

I wish my life was like a rock
Lifeless piece of this Earth’s core
Streams of water, waterfalls
Lightning, thunder, let them pass

On the sea floor, in the seabed
The peaks of mountains, in the sand
Lands will change, eons will pass
I’ll still be stuck in the grass

Dinosaurs, reptiles, mammals, mammoths,
Apes, monkeys, humans, anthros,
Let them all walk over me,
Crash, throw, use and sharpen me

All the eras pass me by
As for you arrowheads fly
In the single blink of an eye
I’ve seen more and will still see
The beginning and end of all that may be

But hold on, wait for a second
Rocks don’t have any eyes I reckon
They don’t think and they don’t talk
They are lifeless clumps of chalk

What use would be in being
For so long without no seeing
All the change and all that time
Just to sit, erode, and die

4. True Savior

       by Daniel Ricketts

Particles of minerals deep within our earth:
folding, bending, rusting, thrusting.

Overlooked and so obscure
a mere spec to glance over.

Studied by science,
uncared for by the masses.

The god-slayers,
who lets us walk upon their backs.

5. Black Beauty

       by Anonymous

Rigid charcoal stained rock formations crest the surface
poking above crashing white capped waves of cerulean
lush greenery lines the jagged blackened shore as leafy fingers reach towards the sea
towering and darkly charred
only the peaks are visible to the naked eye

Beneath the surface their bases spread like tree roots, sprawling
water cascades against rough rocky peaks, weathering faces
splashing the shore the tide delicately slices land
beaches of ivory sand replaced by hardened ebony

Climbing from rock to rock, toes dip into the sea
the smell of saltwater fills an eager nose
perched atop a rocky beach waves crash against feet

6. Strokes of a Master’s Brush

       by Joan Rooney

Lighting and shading, tints and hues,
subtle and varied, some warm some cool
stroked and dripped from a smooth
master brush over rocks upon rocks.

7. Amatuers

       by Mark Van Loan

off to the quarry in tie dyes and jeans
we went for lepidolite and black tourmaline

for chunks of crystals clear and opaque
for all the gray quartz the backpack would take

we scaled the wall to the top of the mine
looking for nuggets to sparkle and shine

strained our limbs and brittle backs
pecking away with the old pick-axe

there were traces of purple and mica flakes
where previous rock hounds placed their stakes

with leathery necks from wind and sun
and smiles that could not be undone

we gathered our stones and packed our bags
wiped our brows with dusty rags

left the quarry with little to show
bits of black tourmaline and bruised elbows

and drifting home we knew we scored
a bunch of rocks for the growing hoard

8. Bryce Canyon

       by Robert J. Tiess

No canyon:

amphitheater

geologic Colosseum
where gladiator elements
battle for millennia

their storied glory
etched in stone
epitomizing
blood and bone.

Funny Poems about Rocks

Here are some interesting poems about rocks that can present characteristics of these objects with hints of fun and comedy.

1. Kissing Rocks

        by Darlene Gifford

Eye to eye

in a stony embrace,

two rockfish kissing,

face to face.

2. Skipping Rocks

       by Barbara Gorelick

He set them dancing across the water,
A special talent he seemed to have.

I looked on with pride,
And not a little envy.

His skipped seven times,
Mine went “thunk”.

Were old now and slowing down,
But I’ll bet that brother of mine..

Could still skip seven times
And mine would still go “thunk”.

3. Everything Rocks

       by Karam Misra

I
love to
sip whiskey
on the rocks and
hang out with the jocks
wife hates this all
marriage  is
on the
rocks

4. If These Rocks Could Talk

       by Maureen Mc Greavy

“Do you remember when the earth
was flat?”

“Ha!  I remember when God
was a woman.”

“Oh my, you’re right;
I forgot about the sex change.”

5. Rocks in my Head

       by Kitty Lou

My Brother said, I had rocks in my head
I swear, he did, that’s what he said
I told him that it wasn’t true
There might be some rocks in my shoe
Perhaps a few more in my rocket
Always have some in my pocket
A tiny pile under my bed
But absolutely none in my head!

Classic Poems about Rocks

Discover the beauty and majesty of rocks through the lens of classic poetry that has stood the test of time. Let’s enjoy these classic rock poems.

1. The Pebble and the Acorn

       by Hannah Flagg Gould

“I am a Pebble! and yield to none!”
Were swelling words of a tiny stone,
“Nor time nor season can alter me;
I am abiding, while ages flee.
The pelting hail and the drizzling rain
Have tried to soften me, long, in vain;
And the tender dew has sought to melt,
Or touch my heart; but it was not felt.
There’s none that can tell about my birth,
For I’m as old as the big, round earth.
The children of men arise, and pass
Out of the world, like the blades of grass;
And many a foot on me has trod,
That’s gone from sight, and under the sod!
I am a Pebble! but who art thou,
Rattling along from the restless bough?”
The Acorn was shocked at this rude salute,
And lay for a moment abashed and mute;
She never before had been so near
This gravelly ball, the mundane sphere;
And she felt for a time at a loss to know
How to answer a thing so coarse and low.
But to give reproof of a nobler sort
Than the angry look, or the keen retort,
At length she said, in a gentle tone,
“Since it has happened that I am thrown
From the lighter element, where I grew,
Down to another, so hard and new,
And beside a personage so august,
Abased, I will cover my head with dust,
And quickly retire from the sight of one
Whom time, nor season, nor storm, nor sun,
Nor the gentle dew, nor the grinding heel
Has ever subdued, or made to feel!”
And soon, in the earth, she sunk away
From the comfortless spot where the Pebble lay.
But it was not long ere the soil was broke
By the peering head of an infant oak!
And, as it arose and its branches spread,
The Pebble looked up, and wondering said,
“A modest Acorn! never to tell
What was enclosed in its simple shell;
That the pride of the forest was folded up
In the narrow space of its little cup!
And meekly to sink in the darksome earth,
Which proves that nothing could hide her worth!
And oh! how many will tread on me,
To come and admire the beautiful tree,
Whose head is towering towards the sky,
Above such a worthless thing as I!
Useless and vain, a cumberer here,
I have been idling from year to year.
But never, from this, shall a vaunting word
From the humbled Pebble again be heard,
Till something without me or within,
Shall show the purpose for which I’ve been!”
The Pebble its vow could not forget,
And it lies there wrapt in silence yet.

2. The Inchcape Rock

       by Robert Southey

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The Ship was still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.

When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell,
The Mariners heard the warning Bell;
And then they knew the perilous Rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok

The Sun in the heaven was shining gay,
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds scream’d as they wheel’d round,
And there was joyaunce in their sound.

The buoy of the Inchcpe Bell was seen
A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walk’d his deck,
And fix’d his eye on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover’s mirth was wickedness.

His eye was on the Inchcape Float;
Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat,
And row me to the Inchcape Rock,
And I’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”

The boat is lower’d, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And he cut the bell from the Inchcape Float.

Down sank the Bell with a gurgling sound,
The bubbles rose and burst around;
Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the Rock,
Won’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”

Sir ralph the Rover sail’d away,
He scour’d the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich with plunder’d store,
He steers his course for Scotland’s shore.

So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky,
They cannot see the sun on high;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.

On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land.
Quoth Sir Ralph, “It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.”

“Canst hear,” said one, “the breakers roar?
For methinks we should be near the shore.”
“Now, where we are I cannot tell,
But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell.”

They hear no sound, the swell is strong,
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along;
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,
“Oh Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!”

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But even in his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,
The Devil below was ringing his knell.

3. The Deserted Pasture

       by Bliss Carman

I love the stony pasture
That no one else will have.
The old gray rocks so friendly seem,
So durable and brave.
In tranquil contemplation
It watches through the year,
Seeing the frosty stars arise,
The slender moons appear.
Its music is the rain-wind,
Its choristers the birds,
And there are secrets in its heart
Too wonderful for words.
It keeps the bright-eyed creatures
That play about its walls,
Though long ago its milking herds
Were banished from their stalls.
Only the children come there,
For buttercups in May,
Or nuts in autumn, where it lies
Dreaming the hours away.
Long since its strength was given
To making good increase,
And now its soul is turned again
To beauty and to peace.
There in the early springtime
The violets are blue,
And adder-tongues in coats of gold
Are garmented anew.
There bayberry and aster
Are crowded on its floors,
When marching summer halts to praise
The Lord of Out-of-doors.
And there October passes
In gorgeous livery, —
In purple ash, and crimson oak,
And golden tulip tree.
And when the winds of winter
Their bugle blasts begin,
The snowy hosts of heaven arrive
And pitch their tents therein.

4. The Old Stone Quarry

       by Ellen P. Allerton

Grown with grass and with tangled weeds,
Where the blind mole hides and the rabbit feeds,
And, unmolested, the serpent breeds.
Edged with underwood, newly grown,
Draped with the cloak that the years have thrown
Round the broken gaps in the jagged stone.
It was opened—I know not how long ago—
Opened, and left half-worked, and so
In this ragged hollow the rank weeds grow.
Why lies it idle, this beautiful stone?
Ho, for the pickaxe! One by one
Hew out these blocks—here is work undone.
There are possible towers in this serpent’s den—
Possible homes for homeless men.
Who shall build them? and where? and when?
Must they lie here still, unmarked, unsought—
Turrets and temples, uncarved, unwrought,
Till the end of time? ‘Tis a sorrowful thought!
All through the heats of the summer hours,
The wild bee hums in the unplucked flowers
That creep and bloom over unbuilt towers.
As I sit here, perched on the grass-grown wall,
Down to the hollow the brown leaves fall,
Little by little covering all.
So month after month, and year after year,
The rank weeds creep and the leaves turn sere.
And a thicker mantle is weaving here.
And a day may come when the passer-by,
Threading the underwood, then grown high,
Shall see but a hollow, where dead leaves lie.
There are human souls that seem to me
Like this unwrought stone—for all you see—
Is a shapeless quarry of what might be,
Lying idle, and overgrown
With tangled weeds, like this beautiful stone—
Possible work left undone,
Possible victories left unwon.
And that is a waste that is worse than this;
Sharper the edge of the hidden abyss,
Deadlier serpents crawl and hiss.
And a day shall come when the desolate scene,
Though scanned by eyes that are close and keen,
Shall show no trace of its “might have been.”

Short Poems about Rocks

Experience the power of poetry in just a few lines, with short poetries about rocks that capture the essence of rocks.

1. How Happy is the Little Stone

       by Emily Dickinson

How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn’t care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.

2. Up and Down

       by Hilda Conkling

Mountains reach up skyward;
Boulders reach into the earth.
Mountains are great and strong, are royal when you look at them:
Boulders have their minds on the center of the earth
They came from.

3. Awakening Monolithic Giants

       by Sherry Anne

prehistoric landscape of millstone grit
toiled and turned
awakening monolithic giants
balancing midst summer heather

and red creeping cowberries
Rock Idol stands poised

under baby blue
and pink chiffon clouds.

4. Capture

       by Anonymous

Torrents of aerated
water flow,
dropping down
a rocky plateau,
the silky suns
warming rays
this is love with
two hearts ablaze.

Long Poems about Rocks

For those who want to delve deeper into the mysteries of rocks, long poetries about rocks offers a detailed exploration of their many aspects.

1. The Old Gray Wall

       by Bliss Carman

Time out of mind I have stood
Fronting the frost and the sun,
That the dream of the world might endure,
And the goodly will be done.
Did the hand of the builder guess,
As he laid me stone by stone,
A heart in the granite lurked, Patient and fond as his own?
Lovers have leaned on me
Under the summer moon,
And mowers laughed in my shade
In the harvest heat at noon. Children roving the fields
With early flowers in spring, Old men turning to look,
When they heard a bluebird sing,
Have seen me a thousand times
Standing here in the sun,
Yet never a moment dreamed
Whose likeness they gazed upon.
Ah, when will ye understand, Mortals who strive and plod, —
Who rests on this old gray wall Lays a hand on the shoulder of God!

2. The Rock in The Sea

       by Henry Ames Blood

They say that yonder rock once towered
Upon a wide and grassy plain, Lord of the land, until the sea
Usurped his green domain: Yet now remembering the fair scene
Where once he reigned without endeavor,
The great rock in the ocean stands And battles with the waves forever.
How oft, O rock, must visit thee Sweet visions of the ancient calm.
All amorous with birds and bees, And odorous with balm!
Ah me, the terrors of the time
When the grim, wrinkled sea advances,
And winds and waves with direful cries
Arouse thee from thy happy trances!
To no soft tryst they waken thee,
No sunny scene of perfect rest, But to the raging sea’s vanguard
Thundering against thy breast: No singing birds are round thee now,
But the wild wind, the roaring surges,
And gladly would they hurl thee down
And mock thee in eternal dirges.
But be it thine to conquer them;
And may thy firm enduring form
Still frown upon the hurricane,
Still grandly front the storm: And while the tall ships come and go,
And come and go the generations, May thy proud presence yet remain
A wonder unto all the nations. Sometime, perchance, O lonely rock,
Thou may’st regain thine ancient seat, May’st see once more the meadow shine,
And hear the pasture bleat: But ah, methinks even then thy breast
Would stir and yearn with fond emotion,
To meet once more in glorious war the roaring cohorts of the ocean.

3. The Rock and The Sand

       by Amos Russel Wells

Long-lined, the foaming chargers of the sea
Press onward in the sun, a glittering host,
Tossing their plumes and breathing angrily.
Long-lined, a seething ocean at their backs,
They dash against the rocks.
The flying spray Is like the smoke of battle, and the spume
Is like the froth of men and beasts at bay,
Driven to desperate daring.
On and on The long attack is urged, and endlessly.
Forever and forever, ‘neath the moon
That coldly views the onset; through the day
As wheels the steady sun; in winter’s blast
And summer’s brilliant burning,—still the clash
Of angry waves upon the stolid rock,
And still they fall defeated back again,
And still the silent granite fronts the sea.
Thus youth confronts the universe, his head
Hold haughtily against the surge of fate,
Ever defiant of the elements,
Of time, or man, or death, or God Himself;
Thus youth, in fancied power, in the pride
Of ignorant inertness. Wiser they,
The waves that know no victory, but still Acknowiedge no defeat.
Unceasingly they ply their warfare, happy if a grain,
A single grain of all the granite mass
Is theirs for plunder at the weary end
Of twelve months’ battering; for so at last,
Indubitably so, the rock is theirs,
Its haughty head at level with the tide,
Its massive battlements a drift of sand.
And this I learn, now that my youth is gone.
Ah, this I learn, and how beneath the yoke.
God’s waves are over me, and all my pride
Is scattered grain by grain along the beach,
Or swallowed in the caverns of the sea.
But be it so; yes, beaten like the sand;
Yes, spread abroad for all the winds to toss
And the wide ocean to make sport withal,
So be it; I am victor even yet.
For where the rock was black, the sand is white;
And where the rock was sullen, how the sun
Sparkles upon the facets of the sand!
And where the rock was lonely, children now
Play merrily upon the sand’s delights;
And where the rock was shaken with shock
Of constant battle, in the blessed peace
Of all the bending heavens now the sand
Lies glad and humble.
It is better so;
For youth is strong, but age is stronger still,
Strong with the power of the sea itself,
Pliant beneath the guiding hand of God.

Poems about Rocks That Rhyme

Poets give their works more musical character by including rhyming words inside them. These rhyming poems about rocks should be simple to remember and enjoyable to repeat.

1. Like a Rock

       by Jina Jeon

Rocks are great.

Like calcium carbonate.

Rocks have to wait.

Like the sedimentary conglomerate.


Rocks are never alone.

Like flint or sandstone.

The fact that I like rocks isn’t my fault.

Like a dark rock called basalt.


Rocks are with me when I fail.

Like a fine-grained rock called hale.

Rocks are always a hope, a light.

Like an ore called hematite.


Rocks are always there to defend,

like a mineral called hornblende.

Rocks take my side whenever I fight,

like the rocky rock quartzite.

2. At Stonehenge

       by Katharine Lee Bates

Grim stones whose gray lips keep your secret well,
Our hands that touch you touch an ancient terror,
An ancient woe, colossal citadel
Of some fierce faith, some heaven-affronting error.
Rude-built, as if young Titans on this wold
Once played with ponderous blocks a striding giant
Had brought from oversea, till child more bold
Tumbled their temple down with foot defiant.
Upon your fatal altar Redbreast combs
A fluttering plume, and flocks of eager swallows
Dip fearlessly to choose their April homes
Amid your crevices and storm-beat hollows.
Even so in elemental mysteries,
Portentous, vast, august, uncomprehended,
Do we dispose our little lives for ease,
By their unconscious courtesies befriended.

3. The Dream Rock

       by Ruby Archer

Amid a rushing mountain stream
A giant boulder stands.
Bright gems of mica o’er it gleam,
And on its breast I love to dream
With mosses in my hands.
The hours flow softly o’er my soul,
More light and swift than foam;
And while the ceaseless torrents roll,
Wild fancies rise from stream and knoll,
And elfin through my vision roam.
They are so fair, and yet so fleet,
I cannot hold their garments fine.
They fade while yet I cry, “Stay, Sweet!”
A farewell glance is all I meet—
An archly murmured, “Not yet thine!”

4. Bald Head Cliff

       by Thaddeus Pomeroy Cressey

The lone dark rock stands out against the sky;
High o’er its summit white-winged sea birds sail,
And fleck the azure ether as they fly
Above the splendor of the mist-cloud veil.
I’ve watched the weird, wild waves on swelling tide,
That through the long perpetual ages
Have climbed high up the lone cliff’s rugged side,
And carved thereon memorial pages.
I’ve seen the white-plumed waves along the shore,
Like warriors brave, advancing in a line,
Dash high against the cliff with clash and roar,
Though ineffectual on the cliff’s incline.
So mid the restless waves of passion braving,
Calm-fronted, staunch, defiant may we be,
And meet the foe’s onset with banners waving,
Unyielding, conquering, absolutely free.

Poems about Rocks for Children

Introduce young readers to the wonders of rocks with these poems about rocks for kids. These poems are educational, engaging, and fun.

1. My Rock

       by Ken Slesarik

My rock is cold,
gray, white, hard,
small, rough
and round.
Are rocks living?

2. A Rock Makes an Excellent Puppy

       by Kenn Nesbitt

A rock makes an excellent puppy.
They’re practically almost the same.
Except that a puppy’s rambunctious;
a rock is a little more tame.

It’s true that a rock’s not as hyper.
It may not chase after a ball.
And, often as not, when you call it,
it won’t even hear you at all.

And maybe it doesn’t roll over,
and isn’t excited to play,
but rocks always sit when you tell them,
and rocks really know how to stay.

It may sleep a little bit longer.
It probably eats a bit less.
But rocks never pee on the carpet.
You won’t have to pick up their mess.

So go ask your folks for a puppy,
and possibly that’s what you’ll get.
But, still, if you can’t have a puppy,
a rock is a pretty good pet.

It doesn’t annoy you with barking;
it quietly sits on a shelf.
A rock makes an excellent puppy.
That’s what I keep telling myself.

3. My Pet Rocks, Rock!

       by Anonymous

I’ve a collection of Pet Rocks

They all live in a cardboard box

I take em in my cart for walks

More fun than blocks, more fun than blocks!

                      ~*~

A real cool hobby to pursue

I started off with only two

Now I’ve adopted quite a few

A treat to view, a treat to view!

                      ~*~

Each of my pet rocks is unique

Sometimes we all play hide and seek

The two with glasses cheat and peek?

That’s Zak and Zeek, that’s Zak and Zeek!

                       ~*~

So far I have collected ten

And each one is my special frien’

It’s Christmas time and that is when

I’ll get more then, I’ll get more then!

                         ~*~

Though they have never spoke to me

Each pets got personality

We’re one big happy family

Don’t you agree, don’t you agree? ~

4. The Rock

       by Mona Lisa Aspiras

I am a Rock
I stand there silently, placidly,
While gentle waters rush and
Caress my skin.
All is well.

The sun beats down on my brow.
I give rest and shelter to a tired
Iguana, content to catch some
Rays.

I am now in a jungle.
Moss is happy, for it now inhabits me.

I am in the playground.
Children paint funny faces on me and
Use me to play hopscotch.

I am Stonehenge, time stands still.
Tourists admire me.
I’m History.

I am Earth.
I am the Foundation.
I am necessary, ever-present,
And things rely on me.

Rock is stable,
Rock is good.
Rock is steady, as it should.

5. My Rock

       by Pat Mora

Summer’s ending.

I sit on my desert rock, listen
to the world’s hum.
Crows and ravens caw,
finches and sparrows chirp. A dog barks.

Can I face
the halls of judgments?

A breeze strokes my face,
brings me back to spiders
and lizards busy at their chores,
private conversations—
sights and sounds I savor.
This earth, my home.

High on the vast blue canvas,
clouds curl, float.

Taking a deep breath, I gather myself.
I bring what I am.

Haiku Poems about Rocks

Experience the beauty and simplicity of haiku poetry, with short and evocative poems that capture the essence of rocks.

1. Rocks – Haiku

       by Ena Nin

rocks remember facts
collect coat of memories
– nature’s diary

2. Rock-and-Roll Haiku

       by Michael Channing

“No one understands
How hard it is to be me,”
Mick told his chauffeur

I am listening
To Kraftwerk, dancing inside,
Not moving at all

Guitars do not weep
Which is probably why mine’s
Now in therapy

Without the makeup
Or the costumes and fake blood
They just don’t sound right

Rock stars do know best
So listen to everything
Kurt Cobain mumbles

We once picketed,
Fists high with this song playing.
Now it’s in beer ads

All the girls swooned for
A guy who could play guitar.
I took up the bass

Despite what all songs
Insist within their verses,
Girl and world don’t rhyme

That first perfect song
Threw open my mind and heart
Still echoes inside

Out in the garage
Broken speaker and ten strings
Planning our world tour

Alone in my room
Boom box cranked to eleven
No one hears me cry

3. When the Pebble Falls

      by Charles Beuck

Light stone, this small rock

When dropped from on high, shatters

More pebbles are born

4. Space Rock -Haiku Poem

       by Anonymous

A stones throw away
Can be a very far place
Hurled from outer space

Poems about Rocks and Minerals

Explore the science of rocks and minerals through poetry, learning about their composition and properties in a creative and imaginative way.

1. Rocks and Minerals

       by Douglas Jay Holden

Tumbling down the stream or from the source
High up in the hills or the valley below
Before wandering off to deserts take water
As ye go out in the streams be savvy of the currents as well the deeps
Keep thinking about great finds
Rather than the ones you did not
Escaping as a way to be free in hostile lands
Treasure as Matate’s an ancient grinding stone
Other tools for doing the daily chores
Arrowheads among a few of several ancient tools discovered many left alone
For the use of the one that left them
Healing enegries no less than Jesus, The solid Rock
Or Gaia our ancient mother who gives us all, like GODDESS and BUDDAH
Many know not of healing except by the one way they know so
Why should we surrender not
As we climb mountains or splash through streams
Agates like Carnelian or fossils set there long ago as preserved perfectly
Did we know what our passions may be or even why as we seem to know
Nothing at all may keep me penned in here I need to go to Hansen Creek a dig site
Hansen creek drainage Snoqualmie Pass Washington
Seventy miles or so one way and Amethyst scepters from wilderness peaks
Formed by the heating of sands before man was likely even an amiba

2. The How and Why of Rocks and Minerals

       by Lee Upton

And these others—what are they?
Not dolomite, sandstone, shist or calcite.
I might include ice—the colorless mineral,
if ice stayed ice.
But what is this one? Some go nameless,
do not look like their pictures.
This stingy lump, this once hot magma?
This is our whole cause
of trouble over arithmetic.
Now crack two of these together.
Fire won’t start.
I’ve tried it.
How about this? The bad stone,
the go-to-work stone,
the stone in a uniform.
He wants to look just like the other stones.
But what would you call my new stone?
Nameless, anonymous,
this dark stone.
Do we think it will teach anyone
the name of the mountain
all these stones rolled down from?
To see the pool of water inside the gem?
Or is this the blarney stone,
what we get for our kisses,
for not knowing our rocks from our minerals.
This rock has a spot in it, so smooth
it is the start of the first quarry,
that zoo of rocks, the untamed, distant rocks,
the rocks that make us nervous.
On the Scale of Hardness we’re talc.
But this is not fool’s gold,
not banker’s gold either,
our love stamped on it.
If this rock could talk I know it would
be quiet. Not a stupid rock,
this one we love.
The loudest stones of history,
they are sand now.

3. 3 Types of Rocks

       by Anonymous

3 types of rocks,
Are really a must,
3 types of rocks,
Create the Earth’s crust…
earth
Igneous rocks,
When lava halts,
Are volcanic rocks,
Like mafic basalts…
basalt rock
Sedimentary rocks,
Should it be known,
Compressed like coal,
Or like limestone…
limestone
Temp and pressure,
At extremes?
Metamorphic rock,
Is formed it seems…
sedimentary rock
4 billion years,
Rock’s been here!
So I don’t think they’ll get up and disappear!
Used for tools from times of old,
Some are ores with lead or gold!
4 billion years of rocks, I said,
The same ones that got used by a dude named Fred…

4. A Mineral

       by Anonymous

A mineral is a wondrous thing,

At least it is to me,

For in its ordered structure,

Lies a world of mystery.


The secrets that it has withheld,

For countless ages past,

And clung to most tenaciously,

Are being learned at last.


Each year using new techniques,

Or with a new device,

We make our knowledge more complete,

Our data more precise.


But let us not in trying to solve,

A mineral mystery,

Forget that minerals are a part,

Of natural history.


Nor in our quest for more detail,

When probing an unknown,

Forget that every mineral,

Has a beauty of its own.


With progress in technology,

Each year see new machines,

That try to copy nature,

By sophisticated means.


But for all those modern methods,

We cannot yet compete,

With the world of ordered beauty,

That lies beneath our feet.

Poems about Rocks for Science

Bring poetry into the science classroom with rock poems for science that teach about the geology and earth sciences in a unique and inspiring way.

1. The Cliff

       by Mikhail Lermontov

By a cliff a golden cloud once lingered;
On his breast it slept, but, riseing early,
Off it gently rushed across the pearly
Blue of sky, a tiny thing and winged.

Still, a trace it left upon the stony
Giant’s heart, and plunged in thought and weeping
Slow and tortured tears, he stands there, keeping
Vigil o’er the gloomy waste and lonely.

2. The Rock

       by Amos Russel Wells

Encircled by the sea, a stony ledge
Lies at the breaker’s edge.
The ebbing and the flowing of the tide
Disclose the rock, and hide.
Now like a granite lion crouching there
Its head is black in air,
And now the whelming waters in a night
Have stolen it from sight.

Still to the nether deep its rocky root
And stone foundations shoot;
Far down, far down, its granite pillar goes
Where tide nor ebbs nor flows,
Unseen or seen, beneath the surges’ roar,
Based on earth’s central core.

What cares the rock, though now its head is high,
Now hidden from the sky,—
A little more, perchance a little less,
For human eyes to guess?
What matter where the fickle waters run?
The rock and Earth are one!

And thus, poor friends, who mourn, uncomforted,
Your loved, untimely dead.
What though the murky and relentless sea
Rose unexpectedly,
And that dear form your life were given to save
Lies underneath the wave?

Look with the leaping eye of conquering faith
The gloomy flood beneath;
Well do you know to what unending ends
That vanished life extends;
Well do you know what vast Foundation Stone
Its hope was fixed upon,
Based on the quiet, peaceful, ocean floor,—
The life for evermore!

Death’s tide some day will let its captives free:
There shall be no more sea!

3. Pebbles

       by Frank Dempster Sherman

Out of a pellucid brook
Pebbles round and smooth I took;
Like a jewel, every one
Caught a color from the sun, —
Ruby red and sapphire blue,
Emerald and onyx too,
Diamond and amethyst, —
Not a precious stone I missed;
Gems I held from every land
In the hollow of my hand.

Workman Water these had made;
Patiently through sun and shade,
With the ripples of the rill
He had polished them, until
Smooth, symmetrical and bright,
Each one sparkling in the light
Showed within its burning heart
All the lapidary’s art;
And the brook seemed thus to sing:
Patience conquers everything!

4. Wild River

       by Mark Van Loan

we climbed on the rocks of Wild River
the flow was low from the hot dry summer
giant pink salmon boulders held us
in the middle of the riverbed

algae swirled in circles around stones
at the edge of the winding waters,
clinging and stretching in the current

birch bark dangled from trunks
that fell from the river bank,
we dunked our feet in the water
gasping at the iciness of it

soon we wandered over pebbles
and stones where the rapids had flowed,
looking for gemstones worthy of our pockets

further downstream a couple swam
in pools in the hot sun, washing
the sweat and dirt of the woods away

huge puffy clouds crossed the blue sky
framed by the trees of the river banks
dusk began to whisper then

we gathered wood for the fire
for food and coffee in early light
we whispered in the woods by the flames
seeking warmth from each other
when the last embers died

5. To Be a Rock

       by Aloser Izere

I took a walk one day,
maybe two or maybe three.

I walked in rain beside the shades of bonnets blue and maple trees.

Until I saw a creek down low.

This creek was slow and almost dry.

This creek left smoothened stones that peaked the interest of my eye.

I went to sit awhile.
With calling birds, some crane silk white.

It noticed me in half a second and decided to drink and take a flight.

I sat, still worried of the common man that I had come, or came to be.

With every beat within my chest, a ticking clock ran, chasing me.

And so I laid.  With droplets spraying on glasses fogged and sweaty.

 decided to sleep atop the rocks until I knew that I was ready.  

I could’ve stayed for hours.  
I could’ve stayed for weeks.

I felt as though I was the rocks that paved the way for streams to meet.

I wished the rain would fall too heavy.
 I wished for flooding, rushing by.
To carry me into the sea. To forget these days in waves of time.
Some passerby thought themselves helpful.
And so they shouted from way up high.  
“Are you ok?”
I waved my hand assuring them that I’d survive.

Final Thoughts

Finally, poems about rocks provide a distinctive and perceptive viewpoint on the natural world by illuminating the untold stories that are contained in these old witnesses of time.

These poems explore the science and geology of rocks as well as their enduring beauty, strength, and complexity.

These poems on rocks offer a variety of styles and themes that appeal to readers of all ages and backgrounds, from famous and classic to short and humorous.

They serve as a reminder of the beauty of nature and the value of appreciating and protecting its resources.

We can establish a meaningful and profound connection with nature through the power of poetry.

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