Riding an elephant
Down the narrow trail looking triumphant
Scanning the golden landscape
Like Hannibal with enemies in flight
Sight from a lofty height
King of the jungle moving
With lioness by his side
Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro
Guides by my side with packs on their backs
Some paths steep with rocks
Boots slipping below our tired feet
Beautiful birds in unison flight
Moving with terrestrial light
Stunning sunlight summit on the peak
Praying in an Ethiopian Church
Preserved in rocks built by humans’ hands
Never touched by conquest plans
Protected from the invaders’ footsteps
Queen of Sheba and Solomon’s nest
Touched by Arch of the Covenant
Mary, Joseph, and Jesus once slept
Eating yam, sipping palm wine, and tasting milk
Freshly squeezed by experienced hands
Taste of life in the mosaic grassland
Sustaining and soul refreshing
Cradle of humankind adorning
Invaded for its gold, riches, and human capacity
Birth of life on earth with tenacity
Respecting its living and arduous journey
Essence of life once was and is again to come
Riding a camel across the hot Sahara sand
Once wet now dried, exported gold from Mali…
Treasures from the hearts of once African empires
That which was, is, and shall forever be
Africa the birthing Motherland
We still love and respect thee!
Seventh Place Winner
"African's Pride" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Adeleke Adeite
June 30, 2010
Orchard’s earthy mossy trails
Gray-brown bark like dragon scales
Crooked branches stretch to hold
Tender almonds encased in fuzzy fold
Leafy clusters filter sun
And dapple grasses newly spun
Bathed in tepid valley air
Rich soil echoes memories long grown there
Perfect crisscrossing rows align
Green canopy woven into tapestry fine
Nurtured seasons; pollinating swarms
Bare branches clatter in winter storms
Pale pink blossoms; fragile drapes
Fluttering down like blushing snowflakes
Prolific bounty once again
From a living sanctuary:
My orchard realm
The arms of the willow started to sway
and this curious glow rippled my way.
While flirting with my feet,
nature played a song so sweet.
The lake our dance floor 'til the sun's first ray.
In The Desert
In the desert walks a man with no name
within its barren sands he seeks no fame
Survival is his only wish and only game
all burns, sticks or crawls nothing is tame
The rattlesnakes strike with poison gifts
nothing soothes, quenches or uplifts
A heat that singes as it burns on down
Rarely, if ever relief from a cloudy gown
Yes, O' yes, beauty does still hide here
found only if he can conquer his great fear!
note: Fear of the danger a desert presents often clouds
the beauty lying within. A proper emergency plan is a must
when entering a desert.
Food, water and a compass are just the basic start..
Robert J. Lindley, Contest- In The Desert , 09-14-2014
We smile, it's raining
Jovial in dancing joy
Soaked to the skin
Warm hearth welcomes us
Naked to bare, towelling
Pillows, rugs, two lie
Face to face, lips now caress
We, attraction flows
Undulating shadows grace
The scow cuts through the clear water, sailing slowly through Milford sound
I watch dolphins jumping nearby while south-west wind ruffles my hair
on the rocks furry seals lazing where harmony and calm abound
my camera cocked and ready, every moment I want to snare
Sailing slowly through Milford Sound, while south west wind ruffles my hair
The fiord’s cliffs rise from dark waters, where yellow crested penguins flock
And mountain peaks scrape the grey clouds, as heaven’s deluge thunders down
New waterfalls are now forming, lush rainforest cling to sheer rock,
By this splendor I’m surrounded, cannot picture a finer crown
lush rainforest cling to sheer rock, as heaven’s deluge thunders down
It’s as pretty as a greenstone, eighth wonder of the world it’s said
Beneath the fresh water surface the black coral is turning white
I can see the lion crouching, I can spot the elephant’s head
Hear the waterfall cascading, makes for one spectacular sight
Eighth wonder of the world it’s said, makes for one spectacular sight
Milford Sound: a 22 kilometer fjord on the southern western edge of New Zealand’s south island off the Tasman Sea. It is famous for its sheer cliffs, steep peaks and waterfalls. Rudyard Kipling described it as the eighth wonder of the world.
The Elephant and the Lion are two mountains resembling those two animals
Ending a hot day
On the back of a lizard
Crusty desert dust
We bound down the stairs, out into the light-of-day, and into the blue of the
misty breezes, heavily laden with the smell of wild sea salt roses that grow in
perfusion along the winding road, that bends and turns in gentle lifts and dips to
the other side of the bay, where it crosses the bridge and rises up and winds
away, over the hill.
Overhead the seagulls screech and glide over the ocean spray that washes on
the rocks on the lower banks behind our house along the Fundy Bay, where we
run like the wind through the fields of fresh cut hay and make our way to the
rocky mantle below .
There in the volcanic plateau, worn smooth as glass by the constant rolling
weight of the ocean, is our pool, known by all in our village, as ‘Lizza’s Bathtub’,
created by the eruption of the earth’s inner core, millennia’s ago.
We slip into the still, salty water that has been warmed beneath the blazing sun,
and float with the perry winkles and tiny crabs and listen to the sound of the
ocean, that roars beneath us as it leaves in the receding tide, while we drift
away, in our minds, my little brother the ‘King’ and I, the ‘Queen’ for a day on
the ‘Fundy Bay’.
Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.
I love rain
It's a month now into spring
And still the rain pours down
Hey, is it ever going to end
There's many here that frown
They want the sunny weather
That will come soon enought
But right now, I'm enjoying it
Rain, I love the stuff.
Next week we're off on holiday
Now it really does rain there
And I'll love very bit of it
As it soaks up everywhere
To hear it's rhythm on the roof
It makes me feel so grand
Though many think that I am strange
They just don't understand
We don't get much rain in WA
So when it comes, for me
It makes me so excited
I guess it's how i be
So keep that rain a coming down
Let me feel it's soft, wet touch
I don't know what is wrong with me
But I love rain so much.
23 September 2013 @ 0624hrs
I left my
of wonder and
awe. A place that
knows me better
than any other place
I’ve been. This place
has changed me and
molded me into the
person I am now.
The forests, trees, creeks,
and open skies instilled in
me a love for God’s works.
The harshness of the winters has
taught me to be patient and to endure. My small
town is where I learned the small-town work ethic;
you don’t get what you don’t earn and earning what
you want takes a little bit of sweat and tears. Here
I learned that you don’t have to be blood to be
family. Brothers and sisters are made throughout
years of school together. We relied on each other to
be happy. This place will forever hold my heart and
soul. I am a small town girl through and through.
It’s who I will always be. Forever. Thanks IDAHO
for shaping me into something more than I was.
Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope
My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans
Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure
Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir
Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile
Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame
The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees
(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace". I hope that it does not insult
below the boughs...
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
The gray exhaust of twelve warm hearths
Chased the clouds into the afternoon sky.
There stood the stalwart mansion
At peace with its surroundings
And steadfast with its environs.
Beckoning an affectionate greeting
Just beyond the bridge, it appears
To give light the sublime levity
Of being a nuance of darkness.
Its façade is as prestigious and lucent
As a librarian’s bustline in her noblest estate.
Its walls of luminous windows
Sit still in a kinetic majesty of colors,
Like the yew tree in its bounty of crimson berries.
This refuge from the current disharmonies
Radiates from its midst an unheard music
And a conviviality suggesting a vicarious ecstacy.
Here, perhaps, is that first step in darkness
Of the empire prophesized to come,
Bringing its measureless song
Of the queen of the northern lights,
Whose monarch calms the most vociferous tempest
And warms the most bitter winter chill.
Here, under the clouds of mortal brevity,
Contained are the exotic reactions
To long suppers and golden evenings
From the replenishing of early traditions,
Beyond youth’s humblest dreams.
The twelve hearths fully aglow,
Fueled with only kindling atoms,
Tell of a future only they can know
And every human mind fathoms.
Within these high stone walls,
Lit by radiant lamps’ glare,
Every place an eye-beam falls,
There is the glory of confident flair.
Fifteen tiny swallows
Fifteen tiny swallows
All perched upon a fence
Oh what handsome fellows
But here, let me commence
To speak of all their beauty
These tiny little birds
All black and cream with a reddish throat
Oh how my heart they stirred
A lady walking with her dog
Disturbed these little guys
So from the fence these birds take wing
And head towards the skies
It seems that they are dancing
In the way they fly around
They always seem to fly in circles
And nearly touch the ground.
I walk around these wetlands
And wonder at it all
Everyday it’s something else
And it’s all so beautiful
Ducks and swallows, parrots too
And the beauty of the lake
I love to walk there most of all
At the coming of the daybreak.
16 August 2013 @ 1510hrs.
We are known for our football, bratwurst, and beer,
Iridescent blue lakes with fresh waters, crystal clear,
Summer's sun blazes hot enough to make skin burn,
Cheese producing dairy farms are around every turn,
Our bright autumn leaves change their colors with ease,
Near spring, the scent of lilac floats upon the breeze,
Snowy winters, with temperatures below zero degrees,
In our green forests, raccoons and deer have a home,
Near the roadside, wildflowers grow wherever you roam.
Harley-Davidson was born, where the eagles fly free,
Wisconsin is as close to heaven, as home can be.
Kim Merryman's contest - "Tell Me About Where You're From"
Chilly late October;
early morning fog banks
the roadside, cloaks
a trickling bayou...
in the thickets of dense trees,
the wispy tufts
goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace,
dried-out thistle stalks...
A school bus, solitary,
yellow, slowly passes
on skinny black asphalt
where wet spots reflect
the newly risen sun.
Only rustles of high,
green cane fields and
intermittent bird songs
interrupt pervasive quiet...
Timelessness, and solace --
calming, soothing --
a Louisiana bayou:
I am the spirit of satin stardust
and the antiquities of golden memories alive
I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun
and greet you in the misty morning light
I am the steady and rolling drum beat
echoing from the jagged heights above
I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters'
and the freedom birds of love
I rise above the white summer clouds
in lilting songs of grace
and roam with the western tail-winds
to take you home again
I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty
of love hope and faith
I have come to tell
Dedicated To P.D.
< Cascading lakes and streams
The loon stands out it seems
Minnesota's state bird
I know it must sound absurd
Adopted in nineteen sixty one
Wails and yodels heard under the sun
Black and white bearing red eyes
Wingspans five feet can make one cry
Body lengths up to three feet
Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat
They are high speed flyers
And great underwater divers
They can dive up to ninety feet
In pursuit of fish they want to eat
They are even on our license plates
An critical habitat drawn on metal slates
Twelve thousand of these unique birds
God that has to be a lot of turds
But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views
Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues
Written By Katherine Stella
Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest
By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
Pass onto this thinking place
Pristine with luster and rhythmic textures
Bath in its heart-warming splendor
Here in this monolithic emerald patchwork
This relationship consoles your psyche
A pluck from here, a collection from there
A rack of tools and an now idle straw-hat
From the loam to dust that stick upon your shoes
A place to conceal with an atmosphere
Contiguous to the eyes embracing and rich
Time honored in its entirety
Carefully romanced by birds and creatures alike
I found you here in a home of comforts
Now your essence is complete
Behold the gardens of light and sound
As perfect as the gift given to man
A portrait flowering a secrete of love
Its scenery influences your center
Today and always
A thinking place
With a reflecting pool
A beach captivating deprived eyes,
Fascination, grandiose haven in July,
Keeping lovely mountains nearby,
Of Pacific, quixotic, refulgent sunset/sunrise.
Tarry! Unwind! Vast waves eXtrudes Yuletide-like Zephyr.
Written: Aug. 16, 2012
This is a beautiful beach in Tamurong, Candon, I.S. It is located near my place or compound just a walking distance from my house. Its name was officially given by the people living in that area who are mostly relatives. The word "namagyan" means "relatives." Many visitors are going to this place and enjoy the nature, their moments and most especially the whole day of Sabado De Gloria (Black Saturday) and ecumenical services are held on this beautiful beach on the dawn/sunrise of Easter Sunday! It's a very fantastic place to visit! Come and see!
Serene Mountain’s so inviting
With clad stone cold faces peeking
Blue mirror pools so exciting
Quivering patches touch my skin
Leaning against a moaning wind
Rapped in a rapture of heavens grin
Inspired by John freeman’s “A Nature Verse contest”
Sifting warm sand
through my fingers,
shimmering fine grains
glitter my palm.
filled with life’s memories
of nut brown days
A soft silk breeze
with our dreams
when we danced to the stars.
My heart laced yours
listening to the sea
undulating waves of emotion
as we kissed
on the velvet strand.
I still hear
the rhythm of the ocean.
Waves tumbling in unison,
a sweeping sound
as we lay silently
listening to sand
shifting over stone
to the faint chiming
My first love
a sea salted embrace
on a breast of sand.
in the sand
in glitter on my hand.
Summer scent is the smell of freedom
where we can escape the flavor of boredom
so we plan to have our vacation on the beach
where we can relax and fresh air is within our reach
The warm wind tenderly embraced my spirit
I felt excited on this first visit
on an island where refugees can find paradise
an island where spending time is wise
The dulcet breeze gently kisses lush green trees
and the mirthful sun smiles over the vast seas
Where surfers play with gigantic waves
and are not certain on what road it paves
The fluffy clouds are smoothly sailing
the birds are singing and harmoniously dancing
There are butterflies that are colorful in hue
like enchanted fairies changing colors from pink to blue
I need my sun block, it's time for swimming
the tables are full because later we're all eating
Ladies are smiling to many cool surfer dudes
Children are hungry seeing delicious exotic foods
I picked a shell that whispered peacefully in my ears
and we built castles that we fancied over the years
out of the small grains of white sands
and all you need is helping hands
God was really great in creating splendid wonders
that were loved by all especially the nature lovers
There are numerous oceans that are aquamarine
and abundant trees and grasses that are green
The brother sun was slowly hiding
because the sister moon was coming
I guess it was our time to pack
but there will come a time for us to go back
Go back to a place of leisure and freedom
where you'll not taste the flavor of boredom
It would be hard for us to say goodbye
because truly we will come back and say Hi!
It stands alone
in a field of loneliness and neglect
the bright red paint has faded into a murky brown
a strict reminder from mother natures pounding fury through the years
once housing a families treasures
now only stores their forgotten tears
The door hangs lazily from its missing bolts
its hinges silent and perfectly rusted
as children we played inside its sturdy walls
now, it cant be trusted
It stands alone
surrounded by a field of weeds and decay
tired and broken
it waits for its eventual collapse
a once bright red smile has faded
its loneliness has no purpose
Golden goddess up above,
shine down on me rays of love.
Summer dreams, they come to me,
bright white sands on the beach.
Rays of sun that warm my skin,
waves of blue come crashing in.
Sailboats sailing in,
summer breezes, summer wind.
Sandcastles along the shore,
summer rains, they always pour.
Summer dreams they come to me,
children playing on the beach.
Rays of sun that warm the sand,
couples walking, holding hands.
Baby blue summer sky,
summer dreams of you and I.
I do not know?
Reminiscent of a rivers flow
Voyage into desire
Dulcet wind playing the dew of love
A land that captures your attention;
encapsulate your thoughts of natural beauty and tranquility
A land of divine sunshine.
A place of seashores; a land with momentum water drop falls, exquisite white
sand beaches, winding rivers and streams.
Famous for its dazzling and enchanting creatures.
Picturesque greenery with blue mahoes, palms and coconut trees,
A place of much flora and fauna;
with dandelions, roses and lilies.
From plains to valleys to beautiful species of birds and bees.
A land with people,
people of different pride and creed.
Our rock solid history of hardship and struggle to a future of power and strength.
A land of much energy.
Our thrilling reggae music led by the great Bob Marley
Courtney Walsh, Merlene Ottey and Veronica Campbell legends of sport.
A land with rich food and culture
Oh can we forget our: rice and peas, jerk chicken and pork, boiled bananas,
ackee and saltfish and rundun.
This place that distinguishes us from the rest.
Yes! a land full of flavour our land Jamaica.
Spun gold skies and water
Bring back memories of home
My Florida sunsets