although the snail’s response was sluggish
it was the slug who was moving at a snail’s pace
although the wasp made a beeline for the jam jar
it was the bee who became waspish after arriving too late
although the bedbugs were as fit as fleas
it was the fleas hoping the bedbugs wouldn’t bite that night
although the fly had opened up a can of worms
it was the worm who wished he could fly
although the ant quietly beetled away after the party
it was the beetle who kept dancing like he had ants in his pants
although the moth had butterflies before the fashion show
it was the butterfly who was a moth to the flame for the cameras
When I was young
and the telephone rung
we all made a beeline
straight to the phone line
“I’ll answer that!”
Was mom’s preemptive cry
then we’d stop and
let her by
Today it isn’t the same
We’re playing the
‘don’t answer, they’ll
leave a message’ game
Some leave no message at all
So did they really call?
For those who do
we play phone tag too!
A bright sunshine dawns
Joy prances in morning light
Laughter seals the air
A cheerful, cheery moment
A memory to engrave.
A startling grey cloud
Tears drip like showers of rain
Heart pinches with pain
The world feels bleak and hollow
Sorrow whispers in the soul.
Yet after the storm
A rainbow arches above
Hope begins to shine
The heart starts to patch up slow
Life resumes its normal train.
After a plain ride
The road starts upward-sloping
But descends again
To wit the high and low tide
The twists and turns of man`s life.
The shine of summer
Fans its fragrance in the air
Wiinter`s wild winds waft,
The two sides of the same coin
The light and darkness that dance,
Day fades into night
Moonless sky succeeds sunshine
Cold is gauged with warmth
A beeline journey of life
Would be dull, dry and dreary.
The seasons all change
Joy and sorrow interweave
A tapestry made
From moments bright and shady
Each thread adds to beauty`s depth.
Let`s greet all the feels
The sweet and the bitter taste
For both make us whole
A balanced life we`re given
let`s cherish all precious breath.
Early in a damp woodsman's camp
seeing sawyers from a logging town
to stop the conversation bogging down
as asked my age among other things
I replied, 'Cut off my head and count the rings,'
then had to be quick-witted and fast-footed
made a bee-line through the trees
so as not to lose my noggin
when a burly lumberjack grabbed his axe
I ducked and dodged his mighty swing
which (in a nonce) saved my bacon (and my bonce)
and them's the actual facts
Old Steve was a marvelous kitty
But what happened to Steve was a pity
He was born in a barn
On a twelve-acre farm
His career was chasing the vermin
Long before he met Farmer Herman
But the farmer had plans
To abandon his lands
And take Steve on the road
For a debt never owed
The dismay, the humiliation, the shame
No one but the farmer to blame
A talking cat!
Who would imagine that?
Poor Steve was in shambles
Through their countryside rambles
Forced into the spotlight
Performing was his plight
That is, until one precious night
The night he met lovely Hayden
The beautiful Calico maiden
It was love at first sight
Paw-in-paw they took flight
The farmer left holding the bag
And Old Steve, that scallywag
Well, he being feline
With his honey made a beeline
Not back to the farm
Where they might come to some harm
No, they fled to the city
Where Old Steve could just be a kitty.
Fire crackle
Its November
an extant season at last
The mirror always distorts the truth
A young body within an sageful mind
Banish those unemigatic days
Make a beeline for your future days
‘tis Sunday! Time for a revival.
It’s a celebration. Several days of praise
and charismatic speakers.
It is time for the bells
to be heard.
If we still walked the dusty streets
would excitement be at its peak?
Are the cars a yawn
that pull into the parking lot?
Will televisions be turned on,
instead of making a beeline
to be part of the angelic choir?
Who will dare to be unmasked?
Who are the holdouts?
Shout! Shout for joy
as we can still celebrate
and employ our lungs
to exaltation,
to raise the roof,
to blow the socks off,
to honor the King of kings,
the Lord of lords,
Father, Son and Spirit -
three in one
with the centrifugal gathering
that one day,
with trumpet force,
will find ourselves
amidst the angel armies
and all saved humanity.
‘tis Sunday!
Celebrate the upcoming days -
come one, come all
and give praise;
praise the Lord!
2/5/2023
trees burnished in gold
shedding leaves drop overhead~
birds squawk beeline south
9/8/2022
Autumn In Nature - Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Feline Footles
Get Well Card for Cats
Be fine,
Feline
Cat Diva
Feline
Divine
Cat’s Quickest Way Out
Feline
Beeline
Latest Fashion on the Cat Walk
Feline
Design
Result of Spaying Clinic for Cats
Feline
decline
Internet Cat
Feline
online
July 3, 2022
Bee-have beehive I’ve
a bee in my bonnet from
“sting operations”
with an endless “Beeline“ drone
on some honeysuckle trail!
Date posted : 11th November 2021
I am going to die of something the old woman said.
I won’t care about hugs or kisses after I am dead.
But today when I see my grandchild, I want some fun.
I want hugs and kisses, I want to hold his hand some.
Sure there is a pandemic, and the old people die.
But wouldn’t it be worth it for one hug? She’d sigh.
Her husband was leery, he wanted a couple of more years.
He gave her the six foot instruction, which fed on his fears.
Her husband was cautioning her, to stand back though.
He wanted her to be safe; he was afraid of her determined glow.
Their grandson at six made a beeline toward them.
He was so glad to see his favorite two once again.
He ran past his grandma straight into grandpa’s arms.
Grandpa swept him up and said “I can’t see the harms.”
Founders Profit Academy online
To which you must make a beeline
Learning anything beyond limit
Teaching everything is our remit
Join us if, about learning you are curious
You will find us, not always serious
You may think I always jest
Actually we promise you a learning fest
It was two A. M., and I’d not slept.
I had grumbled and groaned, almost wept.
What was torturing me?
Then the truth I did see.
I yelled, “Whoopee” and from my bed leapt.
My old arthritic knees worked just fine;
to the kitchen I made a beeline.
There was one piece of cake,
which for my sweet tooth’s sake
I devoured. Then I slumbered till nine.
June 12, 2020
entered in Carolyn Devonshire's Sleepless Contest placed 2nd
There's nothing quite as inviting as
the smell of some good ol' home sweet home cookin'...
especially your favorite meal being prepared!
That aroma of well-seasoned soul food
being cooked by your significant other
who knows his or her way around the kitchen...
Doesn't it smell better than any fragrance
you've ever worn or whiffed? Doesn't your hunger
intensify exponentially as you walk in?
Those spices! Oh, those spices!
"Something smells delish! Honey, is food ready!?"
[your thought bubble]
Doesn't your mouth start watering then?
You feel the urge to make a beeline for the kitchen
To sample a morsel of yummy deliciousness
And you're likely to come back...
like Oliver Twist wanting...
some more? Well, maybe.
Submitted for...
STRAND SELECT W any form,any theme' Poetry Contest (Winner: Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 02/21/2020
Date written and posted: 12/06/2018
the scope in a turning view
ties the hands high over hues
embodies a mask of black
a sticky webbed deceit
stretched over eyes
plays mean for a wicked need
an intricate motion is the catch
shrewd dominates the luminesce
flickers of surrender are devoured
creates a tangled flux
tears of a flower lost in color
cluster in pale beams
sight slivers in reflection
the shine climbing a slide
slips through the mind
hums a childhood rhyme
steps over time so far
singing a wish upon a star
a joyous scatter for chairs
circle to stop is the anxious feed
tricked in a play for keeps
recruits a ball for a chain
conspires a passion to redeem
aims high and jumps beyond
slows to a falling speed
the heart of an arrow
beeline threw a target
buries deep a sharp point
passes screams in between
patches of a quilt lacking seam
ever sleeps the weaver of dreams
Terry D'Arcy-Ryan
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