Best Beaver Dam Poems
How I long to walk again
By the beaver dam.
Remember in midsummer, Dad
We stopped to roam the land.
Along I followed through
I frowned at what I couldn't see
Your eyes so gently lifted mine
And said these words to me
"Daughter I have brought you here
To witness nature's love
To capture beauty in it's growth
And all that it may house,
Do not hasten or shut out
The untame while it lives
It'll survive within us
To pass on, to share, to give".
Then your eyes ceased control
To grasp what lay beyond
A slapping splash had announced
That we were not alone.
With this a joy surged
Within my soul and thus withheld
As peace and new awareness
Flowed no longer to be shelved.
The memory
I'll cherish of you and I, that day
It's winter now all is white
And you have gone away.
But in the spring I'll meet you there
Where the untame live
With you I'll share the struggle Dad
Of Peace and Joy to give.
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
Beaver dam breaks slowly,
Abandoned but still there,
On a bare riverbed,
On a river that was once there.
The moving water
Cool flowing reflection moves
Blocked by beaver dam
Russell Sivey
There once was a babbling brook flowing through the field,
just one look is all it took to see the beauty of nature’s gift-
All the leaves from the trees seemed to gather in the weald,
in the lumbered beaver dam lay a weak and broken rift.
Just one look is all it took to see the beauty of nature’s gift,
I see the cascading reflections surfacing with the ebb flow-
In the lumbered beaver dam lay a weak and broken rift,
for when the twilit moon arrives it leaves a honeyed glow.
I see the cascading reflections surfacing with the ebb flow,
with mossy vines running through the emerald of the trail-
For when the twilit moon arrives it leaves a honeyed glow,
because of the morning dew, the water is left cold and frail.
With mossy vines running through the emerald of the trail,
it spreads and reaches the distance no space can feel-
Because of the morning dew, the water is left cold and frail,
it shimmers below the setting of the sun that can heal.
It spreads and reaches the distance no space can feel,
for in the light of day the grassy covered land is sincere-
It shimmers below the setting of the sun that can heal,
and as it glimmers it brings splendor into the atmosphere.
For in the light of day the grassy covered land is sincere,
all the leaves from the trees seemed to gather in the weald-
And as it glimmers it brings splendor into the atmosphere,
there once was a babbling brook flowing through the field.
December 14, 2016
Climbing closer
To the sun
The winding trail
The creek crossings
The beaver dam
And felled trees
A snake in the grass
Butterflies everywhere
Feeling older
With rubber legs
And yet,
There is so much
left undone
in the world
There’s an odd thief in our neighborhood
Who steals stuff that he must think is good
Beginning with my small bushes and trees
Which at the start, made no sense to me
Then parts of my fence suddenly disappeared
And a pile of firewood was totally cleared
Yet when most of my porch pickets were gone
It was time to dispense some fighting brawn
By taking some sort of drastic action
For our family needed some satisfaction
Yet the next day he stole lawn sport’s equipment
And a stack of pallets fresh from a shipment
The following day when I got home from work
My front door was ajar; from that crooked jerk
Who oddly took walking sticks and umbrellas
Which confirmed this thief was a strange fella
Since I was so ticked, I left to ponder the scam
Then I saw on a side road a new beaver dam
Amidst the prairie sits this cobbled-up dome
Built with those good things smuggled from our home
Our prairie was treeless, devoid of beaver
Until this thieving one, which was a great weaver
And to top it off, I was totally floored
Coz its lodge was crowned with our head board!
While floating in a tranquil way
Green and yellow ducklings had a lot to say
They swam up and down the stream
Living the dream
Showing formation as a family team
Until one day there was an interruption
Beaver, Inc. building corruption
“What is this?!”
Lead duck did hiss
“It’s a dam,”
Said construction fore beaver Dan
Who was contracted to create a traffic jam
“You are bothering the traveling flow
You know”
Replied the duck
About this idea by the beavers to make a buck
“It will be good
Made from sturdy timber wood
Guaranteed to stop over water running
While we beavers are sunning
Stop drop a half a buck
We wish you good luck”
One beaver gave an address
Explaining progress that was right now a mess
“What a beaver dam
Scam
Fifty cents is nearly a dollar,”
Those ducks were giving a holler
It was then it began
A Beaver State civil stand
If the orange and black
Are successful in the academic sporting attack
They will be able to purchase dam supplies
Twining around those ducking cries
On top of that there would be a silver contribution
Since this was a thoughtful solution
To allow the Beaver to enjoy a recreational bake
During the summer time break
But if the ducks take home a win
Those beavers will be contacting their next of kin
When the critters go to sun bathe
There will be no dam to stop the wave
Created by the ducks swimming thru
Staying cool
Getting ready to study real hard in school
I have seen hoarders. I need a refresher though.
Today.
Right now.
As I decide to give up because this
bedroom is too much for me.
There has been a possible raccoon
den in the corner for six or eight years.
Today was the day I decided to tackle it,
hoping not to find a beaver dam or a
tiger den.
One tiny corner that turned into a mammoth mountain
of stuff that I have spent years throwing into a taller pile.
There are bags, boxes, purses, backpacks, and some hidden
plastic containers in there somewhere. Last week I threw
about one eight of it on the bed, so I would be forced
to take action, to get started.
I did not though because the bed pile overwhelmed me,
took all my energy. Depleted me so hard and fast, I promptly got
physically sick. Maybe as an excuse to not do it? This morning
it was grinning at me wickedly from the bed. Sapping my energy,
and my strength.
It is weird that when I lug this stuff home I have high aspirations for it.
But just dragging it in usurps all my energy. It has sat here glaring at
me for years. I start going through it rapidly the first few hours.
Then I decide to try to nap, but I cannot rest. The only solution is to
take it all back to the resale store and give it back. A pattern I know well.