Bold aromas stir me,
Beckoning me to seek.
Blessed cubs sleep, protected.
Brazen mother, stands guard.
Brutality, dormant.
Benevolent and aware.
*"Spirit Animal" Poetry Contest
*Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
*Entered on: 09/24/2025
Penelope Fairchild,
Penelope bares!
Penelope bears child,
Penelope cares!
Penelope Fairchild,
Penelope fares!
Penelope's fair child,
Penelope stares!
Penelope Fairchild,
Penelope glares!
Penelope's fair child,
Penelope scares!
polar bear up north
posing for the camera
dressed for warmth in fur
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
big balloon-like bouncy Barney B. bear
Came out of the bushes from practically no where
His nose had led him straight to this buzzing bee hive
He hesitated a few minutes when he counted thirty-five
The bees are in a tizzy, he thought, who stirred them up?
Did he have his bee suit? No. It was being let out by Buttercup
Buttercup was Barney’s bubbly, bounteously beautiful wife.
Barney dove into the bees for honey, for he only had one life.
Your fur is worn thin now,
patches where love pressed too hard,
but to me you were never just a toy -
you were the voice of courage
when the dark grew too loud.
I held you like a secret shield,
breathing into your sewed ear
the worries I dared not share with my mother.
You guarded them in silence,
never speaking a word
but somehow - I always slept easier.
In daylight you became a friend
sailing ships across blankets,
chasing clouds across the plaster sky,
celebrating every victory
in make-believe wars you alone could prove
Even now,
you linger on my shelf,
a gentle witness that love
is stitched to last
beyond the years.
Cold weather
Rain pouring
Woman sleeping
Black bears watching
A miracle happens
A young woman safe sleeping
The black bears staring
What a good story to tell
Amen
Playful mood that changes from stomach's growl,
He lumbers from the food-scarce forest hill,
Where naught is found, not fruit nor wing of fowl.
The shop in town he enters to a chill,
Where's found iced cream. He stuffs until his fill.
A bear, a meal, and a mood quite cheery,
His favored flavor eaten? STRAWBERRY.
Killing
time
without
wounding
eternity
Life
in the
balance
life
— on the edge
(Red Lodge Montana: August, 2025)
My Mama told me, "Don't get Lippy!"
"Better back up, and I mean Skippy!"
Scrunched up eyes, bloodshot Red,
Punched two teeth, from my Head!
I joined a Cult, became a Hippy!
Smokey the Bear points his finger at you
Watch the campfire and everything you do
One bad move brings a forest to its knees
Many a wise decision saves a forest of trees
8/17/25
connie pachecho
Note-Saw a completed contest. And thought I'd
give it a try after the fact. The poem may be late
for the dance, but nonetheless, it's fun to dance.
According to the ballad,
Davy Crockett, born in Tennessee
(part of North Carolina at the time),
kilt him a b'ar when he was only three
(altho' only a song,
always had my doubts about cruelty to animals
from one so young).
Playing with it night and day, young Davy
should have taken more care
(had a hunting reputation),
he pulled the arms and legs off
his toy teddy bear.
Even at that early age, our Davy
really was quite unfair
(King of the Wild Frontier),
he knocked the stuffing out of his toy teddy bear.
bear wading in the stream
bear grabs a jumping salmon
bear feeds his hunger
Two hungry bears are poised to fight
Razor sharp claws, like daggers drawn
One stole a fish, theft is not right
Two hungry bears
They’d stalked brown trout since early dawn
They’re ravenous, and that’s their plight
Last trout had swum upstream to spawn
A tasty trout bears love to bite
But now all the fresh fish have gone
No wonder both are so uptight
Two hungry bears
2
In spring we come out to see life,
out from our long cold winter's nap.
Bears are so loving not wildlife.
Love can be grand.
I am your big fun bear asap,
you are my fury playful wife,
I love to see you in gift-wrap.
Tonight we need some fun nightlife,
eating fish not from a flytrap,
using my big claws not a knife,
Love can be grand.
"Fantasy ~ Imagination Are Twins. Having a fun time playing together in our dreams." By Poet
As I look into last night's "Dream,"
I see a "Visualization" downstream.
I see a huge bear and cubs dressed in lace of red and cream,
that is a crazy color scheme.
Is my "Imagination" going up in steam?
The bears looked very "Whimsy" like out of a daydream,
has this "Hullucination" gone to the extreme?
"Reverie" by this cold water stream.
In this wild dream I found no self-esteem,
just a large bright overhead laser beam.
No more eating ice cream with triple whipping cream.
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