Best Famous Munches Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Munches poems. This is a select list of the best famous Munches poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Munches poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of munches poems.
Search and read the best famous Munches poems, articles about Munches poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Munches poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
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Written by
Rg Gregory |
yesterday the man was pleased
the sun sat in the tree and all
upon the land held to the harmony
his coming then expected
his gun in his arm
his dog at his heels
a blackbird sang on a high branch
a white horse ambled by the hedge
a brindled cow munched grass - the man
shared his heartbeat with them
his gun in his arm
his dog at his heels
today he was disturbed - a mist
obscured what grew inside and out
a tree loomed upon him like a threat
his walk had nothing safe about it
a gun in his arm
a dog at his heels
a huge crow shrieked from the tree
its wings churning the mist
its beak sharpening for attack
its claws reaching for the man's eyes
shoot said the gun
the dog stayed at his heels
the man shot - once - and the crow
reared backwards from the blast
a thunder cloud dripping red rain
and fell to earth a muted blackbird
good said the gun
the dog stayed at his heels
an elephant (but white as leprosy)
with trunk and tusks upraised crashed
through the hedge trumpeting and causing
earth and man to shudder violently
shoot shoot said the gun
the dog stayed at his heels
the man shot - twice - and the beast
bellowing with a disbelieving pain
exploded (staining the mist deep red)
and fell to earth an old white horse
good good said the gun
the dog stayed at his heels
a mammoth buffalo brindled and bristling
a taste for death snorting from its snout
hurtled towards the man - with flecks
of flesh still hanging from its jaws
shoot shoot shoot said the gun
the dog stayed at his heels
the man shot - thrice - and the monster
spun round with the savagest of roars
drenching the landscape in a hot red spray
then fell to earth a gentle brindled cow
good good good said the gun
the dog barked once
the man stood stunned in the thick mist
alien to the fields he had known
from his first breath - he comprehended
nothing but the gun in his hand
shoot shoot shoot shoot said the gun
the dog barked twice
the man shot - four times - and the dog
with not a sound fell to earth
and rolled on its back - its four
legs sticking stiffly in the air
good good good good said the gun
as the dog lay still
the man looked hard at the dog and saw
an upside down reflection of himself
he hurled the gun (bereft of bullets)
into a pond - it stuck stock-upwards
the gun reverted to the tree
its wood had come from
the dog was lifted skywards
by invisible cords
the man went on walking - for days the man stood stunned in the thick mist
alien to the fields he had known
from his first breath - he comprehended
nothing but the gun in his hand
shoot shoot shoot shoot said the gun
the dog barked twice
the man shot - four times - and the dog
with not a sound fell to earth
and rolled on its back - its four
legs sticking stiffly in the air
good good good good said the gun
as the dog lay still
the man looked hard at the dog and saw
an upside down reflection of himself
he hurled the gun (bereft of bullets)
into a pond - it stuck stock-upwards
the gun reverted to the tree
its wood had come from
the dog was lifted skywards
by invisible cords
the man went on walking - for days
weeks months even till the sun returned -
loving the mist (its near wisdom
its light uncompromising touch)
now he is free of the gun
he understands the dog
a blackbird sings in a high branch
a white horse ambles by the hedge
a brindled cow munches grass - the man
shares his heartbeat with them
|
Written by
Robert Francis |
Those who have touched it or been touched by it
Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed,
Or burning it, have stood where the sly smoke
Has touched them-Know the meaning of its name.
The leaf is smooth. Its green is innocence.
A clean, unblemished leaf, glossy when young.
A leaf the unobserving might overlook
And the observing find too prosperous.
I've seen a vine of it so old and crooked
It held a hen-coop in its grip, the stalk
Thick as a man's wrist. There it had grown,
Half out of sight, permitted, undisturbed.
Strangers to it, who on a autumn road
Have found a vine that swept a tree like fire
And gathered it barehanded and brought it home
For color, seldom gathered it again.
Some are immune and some have thought they were
And some, ever so cautiously with gloves,
Finding that it grew to near their homes,
Have tried to root it out and have succeeded
Except that something from the vine fastened
Upon their flesh and burned, and in a year
Or two the vine itself was there again,
Glossy and green and smooth and innocent.
My neighbor's cow grazing beside the road
Munches with joy (and almost with a smile)
The salad of its leaves, transmuting them
Into sweet milk that I will drink tomorrow.
|
Written by
Paul Laurence Dunbar |
Oh, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying,
And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;
For softly and merrily now there come playing,
The little white birds thro' the winter-kissed air.
The squirrel's enjoying the rest of the thrifty,
He munches his store in the old hollow tree;
Tho' cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty
He fears the white flock not a whit more than we.
Chorus:Then heigho for the flying snow!
Over the whitened roads we go,
With pulses that tingle,
And sleigh-bells a-jingle
For winter's white birds here's a cheery heigho!
|