The moon is full and white, and chill, this night,
it cascades past my open window sill,
and all the color fades to dark from light,
a monochrome of gray which can't be stilled.
The armoire's shadow strays across the floor.
I watch it from within my canopy bed.
as a nightmare gallops through my open door,
a Pooka* black as coal with eyes which bled.
Its jaw agape red gore froths from his maw,
and it slowly paws the cover from my bed,
a scream freezes in my throat to bird-like caw,
it dips for me to mount, as I am led.
Upon a demon spawn, I scour the moor
'til dawn descends to end this foul glamour.
*The pooka is a primarily a creature of Irish folklore. Considered to be both bringers of good and bad fortune. The creatures were said to be shape changers which could take the appearance of black horses.
Uplifting morn by the lake
As I sit here beside Lake Joondalup
With silent morn as yet not woken up
Green parrots sing from gnarled old wetland trees
As leaves they dance and whirl on the morning breeze.
A tiger snake he comes, a swimming by
As gulls they screech and fly into the sky
Two kangaroos, so big, and strong, and grey
They seem so happy on this perfect day
The air is filled with so much mystery
I sit and watch filled with serenity
As the sun peeps through the clouds there in the sky
From its orange hue, I hear a raven cry.
As Morning silence Fill’s my very soul
The dawn, arrives and make’s me feel so whole.
30 June 2014 @ 1432hrs.
For Elly's Sonnet contest.
It is the laziest of all creatures,
It could eat and eat filet all the day long.
Investigative eyes is a feature,
And it will sing to you its forlorn song.
It will avoid you like the plague by day,
Skulking, running, bounding, from room to room.
By night it searches through the halls for its prey,
The hunted will meet its impending doom.
The whisper of whiskers against the door,
Tip-toe, pitter-patter, sneakily creeps.
All at once bounding across the floor,
Whoosh goes the paw across the mouse hole deep.
“Drat!” says the cat, missed the mark once again,
Once more the mouse hunt will have to begin.
We still face the test of absolute truth
As creatures of the wild roam on a vast field
The sun burning through their earthy pursuit
Within this mind, a darkened haze concealed.
I watch their shadows, deepening a leer
My fingers grip waiting for the light of dawn
While mossy scent pervades on woods’ frontier,
Restraining a planned scheme as moon grows long.
Daylight wakes and I seek the open trail
Across the range, a moose nibbles on weeds
It’s curve -like silhouette fine like handrail
Now, desire for prey claims a game sullied.
Then noises ring, and noises ring again
Deafening the echo of silent glen.
Seven Stones in the Crown & other Gems
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
by nette onclaud
The fierce, graceful tiger
(a fearsome, wild beast)
is not meant as dinner
for someone's lavish feast.
The giant, harmless whale
(a great, ocean mammal)
won't survive or prevail
against ruthless people.
All Earth's feral creatures,
of land, the sky, and sea,
are here as our teachers
and life's diversity.
Save man's endangered worth
and restore God's good Earth.
The thicket moves, my aim must not waver;
with strengthened arms I bend my bow of yew:
My eyes pierce the brush, intent to savor
the sights of a good hunt, an arrow true.
The bracken parts, rattling, empty sighs;
My draw fingers quake from the constant chill.
My quarries' breath floats to the clouded sky,
my own breath muffled as I track my kill.
Overhead, an arrow in deadly arc
speeds toward the bear I'm seeking, still as stone;
A shadow moves, the arrow strikes its mark.
The hand that loosed the shaft was not my own.
I am a man shadowed; death comes knocking:
The hunter hunted; the past comes stalking.
Crown of Sonnets
Ahead, the bear in sudden motion stands.
With a surge of strength, I turn unstayed by fear,
a welling force inside to take command.
A grim rivalry, but respect we share,
yet, uncontrolled the bear imperious roars.
With enraged might, he swings his bloody head.
His pain in a thundering bellow soars.
Off into the dense forest, he has fled.
I slip haphazard through death's devious plan,
and kneel in the damp crimson covered ground
with survival hard-won by these two hands.
I rise to face night as darkness surrounds.
The wild's full of creatures, stealthy and bold
I must build a shelter, to fight the cold.
one-legged-bird stands stressless
heron shows no restlessness
one momentum of movement
nature's fair plan will reveal
my goldfish goal of his steal
with a fish he will abscond
leaves frostbitten edge of pond
the moment is history
shocking feelings felt lively
my goldfish – our ponds first fish
ending life on heron's dish
no moments to wave goodbye
goldfish airborne sky high
Note - I have re-written the earlier version into this sonnet.
One thing that spiders always love to do
Spin their webs of mastery just for you
Beauty of their fine, silvery web strings
Holding each drop of water in its rings
The center holds the granddaddy of all
Creator of this masterpiece installed
He sits just waiting for the naive bug
Then he kills it with his engrossing drug
The spider can build this web in one night
Some webs are quite the incredible sight
Web makes it through many types of weather
Even powerful storms could not bother
Spider spins all of its webbing just right
Web and spider work together with might
Contest: Along Came a Spider......
Sponsor: Suzanne Delaney
She stalks the garden looking for a feast
Once she gets one, she can bite or incite
Gaze into her playful eye for instance
Quickly am caught in her magical trance.
As the sun sets, she comes out of her den
Cycle of life goes on from dusk to dawn
Espoused to live by the light of moonshine
With nocturnal visits of joy consigned
She’s the lower cavum nester’s delight
And don’t excavate her own nesting site
Managing for food and warmth for winter
Taking vantage of other’s living quarters.
Known over the world, a flying squirrel
As dawn breaks she plays in dim auroral.
Dr. Ram Mehta
Fifth Place Win
Contest: Impress Me (Sonnet)by Giorgio V.