Best Bog Poems
They congregate in a bog
vying to be the boss hog
all the teethy little fishes
Swimming in circles they go
Baldy, Waldo, and Bozo
When one of them dishes
they all start to nibble
Watch them hurry to the bog
mouths drooling with dribble.
Throw out the chum
and watch them bite
at each other's bum.
It's a hilarious sight.
Swimming in circles they go
Feeding time is status quo
Along the shore they creep,
waiting to dive into the deep.
It's a condition known as stasis
but has no factual basis.
There's no hurry to reel them in
once they've been hooked.
Their circus act can be booked.
Swimming in circles they go
Banjo, Bongo and Bo Bo
A school of big mouth bass
from waters of the lower class
floating around in the bog
getting themselves waterlogged.
My descent was gradual, sedge meadows with wondrous pink orchid variations visited by never identified damselflies, my head starting to swim; erasing time, giving way to a dark canopied wetland of black spruce, difficult to traverse, sloping deer trails the safest path to take, avoiding quick-mud holes. These trails are popular in the forest, as signs reveal, death struggle remains, the saddest.
This is the area I saw the hairless half ape/half wolf like creature block my trail, stopping to look at me deeply, then vanishing like a ghost, without even a ruffle of plants.
Sometimes a plant, flower or insect calls to me "come closer" so I approach with caution; my hand carved heavy oak staff probing for danger, strong enough to ward off bears and badgers, snakes & insect saboteurs, intent on my demise.
With compass and topo I chart my course, knowing each time I visit these wild places in the forest off Lake Superior, it could be my last, so I bring back natural, wondrous souvenirs that fill my day-dreams, content once more, cleansed of my sins by Her Majesty, the forests off Gitchi Gumee.
Authors note...never venture into these wild places alone, always be prepared with survival equipment in your pack.
Cassidy was a curious dog;
One day he walked into a bog,
Coming out, he looked about,
He couldn't see and began to pout;
Because he’s a sludge caked dog!
We've slogged through bog and briar.
To coddle the pond's "tranquility".
This emerald within an emerald
of tender water~ lily harmony.
Indian paintbrush to whisk a memory.
Winged flutes seep gently from maple trees.
Her sweetened songs will tear the eye.
If you let it be-just let it be.
The sun glances off the endless green.
Speckles it with flakes of gold.
Soon shadows of the great unknown,
will chime it's time to head back home.
So, we leave thorned but blissful.
Eaten alive by this humble Eden.
Can we ever coddle happiness again?
Garnish both bog and briar.
encountered last Spring...exuberantly too far,
hiking deep in a Minnesota forest-bog, almost
dreamlike... Mosquito clouds engulfed me
...james
Silent zeroes flood my reflex memory
Mosquito clouds so thick to breathe
Meant inhaling dozens
Smiles and scorns at Springs first leap
Of freedom deep in a hidden forest bog
Bouncing leaps of retreat
Time froze
I glanced across a frozen universe
Scars finely creased with age
Memories still fresh
'Ancient Boulders' it is said in stories
Still vibrate with sacred chants
Audible to the chosen ones
Ears worthy of silence
Ears worthy
Of
Silence
ghostly lilypads
brightly adrift in moonlight
alligater sleeps
Listen well my droogs
the prevention of free will
leads to prestoopnick
"Bloodbath in the Bog"
Bloodbath in the Bog
Leeches go down hard on turtles
fattened egos in a feeding frenzy
agitated mosquitoes land on the slime
to take a taste
grinning hares race each other out the gates
wasting life and time
smoking the green grass
eating all the pretty flowers
(LadyLabyrinth/2020)
"Edible Flowers" / Finn Brothers
https://youtu.be/UY8xoSERti4
“But looks can be deceptive
and that sweet looking field
can be a dangerous man eater.
The meadow is actually a peat bog-
more specifically a blanket bog -
and while it's a rich habitat for wildlife watchers,
it hides potential dangers for the unwary.”
English colloquialism/Bog.
There was an old man who lived in a bog
And he owned a hog
Each time the hog farted
The old man darted
right out of the back door.
I was once told a story, of the wee folk of Bensham Bog; they live in carved mushroom houses that are shaped like bullfrogs and they ensure the survival of creatures there. They travel in petrified skins of bananas and are rarely ever seen yet, they mix all of the peat moss and propagate trees. Coniferous trees like pine and spruce, larch and fir; trees that produce oxygen; negative ions for the air. Be thankful, these fey exist; if you see one at night; you’ll know because, they glow with blue light.
in the bog
trees thriving-
faeries labor
Wetlands help to keep a balance within our environment; their preservation is vital, this everyone should know. They provide iron deposits, lovely, translucent obsidian stone from which, early man, made himself tools. Flora, like water lily’s grow in bogs and thriving there, leatherback turtles, an endangered species.
a leatherback turtle swims-
crickets chirping
The bog of Incredible Stench
Not a place I knew of when young
Not a place I'd ever contemplate going to
Not a place I'd recommend – learning cure?
@Not a place I want to be@
Why do so many do so many regrettable things
Evita – no regrets?
They wish!
Borrow a life or two – hind – no regrets?
≠
I knew bizarre wear of the Emperor
New life – borrowed life
New life – better life?
New life – old strife
♣Invisible hands to help the Emperors into their robes♣
Invisible mantle stolen on view – star wear
All on show invisible bizarre wear
Star wear - star war
Poor star?
Poof gone?
Mantle gone!
Stardom gone?
©
Catch a falling star for the pocket
New life – borrowed life
Catch a falling star for the pocket
New life – better life
Catching a falling star for the pocket
New life – new lies
Catch a falling star for the pocket
New life – old life, old strife!
Will you go
To ware stench?
Will you go
following
stardom?
Does it
happen
or
is it
taken
Nurtured thievery
Kept not given back
Thievery of many to greedy to know
They're Emperors on Show
Deject jejune muck
Underarm hollow tax cows
Nods lone land per hoof
Grasshopper a widower
Yelps fable ape logy bog
When Sunday dinner is through
There’s something you must not do
Don’t flush Yorkshire Pudding
It could cause bad flooding
In toilets - wee paper or pooh!
Inspired by story on Sky News - you know me guys I just couldn't turn down the opportunity to do a limerick!
2/24/19
On the subject of an unwanted water feature...
Water, water, everywhere
In rushing rivers down the wall
As loud as grand Niagara’s Fall
In to the Wobbly Bog
Pouring, pouring, endlessly
Insistent flow of running stream
Unwanted runnels carved through dream
Swelling the Wobbly Bog
Soaking, soaking, soggily
The puddle deep, the muddy ground
‘Tis said there was a postman found
Drowned in the Wobbly Bog
Dropping, dropping, gravity
Bleaching brick with scale of lime
On damp of wall the mark of time
Shadows the Wobbly Bog
Gushing, gushing, noisily
Unbalancing the Feng and Shui
No wind to dry the churning sea
Flooding the Wobbly Bog
Madness, madness, sanity
By white noise of incessant drip
Is sunken like a sodden ship
Wrecked in the Wobbly Bog
Misty, misty, spookily
By moonlight come the boggy sprites
With mischief and their tiny lights
Haunting the Wobbly Bog
Wishing, wishing, hopelessly
That some good knight with tool or sword
From Aster or the Water Board
Might conquer the Wobbly Bog
Watching, watching, grumpily
The paint that never dries; dismay
As Wiltshire waters pour away
In to the Wobbly Bog
by Gail
The Frog bog
When you go to the fair today.
Listen real close to hear.
A man yelling as he says,
Flip them and flop them
Slip them and slop them.
Three frogs for a dollar.
One in the lily pad you do win.
Here at the frog bog.