Best Bogs Poems

Bogs Is Truly Awful !

Cold like old man bony 
the wind whooshes,
through impudent rushes
empty, stony, hungry 
It's special beauty 
melancholic, 
making wretched poetry 
The night skys velvet 
torn to shreads
you there 
stumbling woefully 
Your two pale feet 
turning brown, brown
as Sunday gravy
And now you come...

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THE BOGS
You can here her faint voice in the brisk mornin breeze
sure she sings for her lover, down under the trees,
and all Ireland can hear every word she will sing,
when the bogs are dressed out in the colors of spring.

She will sing her heart out,...

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Cross the river Charles
Steady stream of steam the bogs envelop 
Sweaty air resists your passage
Drift to town a short distance down

Woolly summer wonder wrought
All move and sing at once
A billow from his pipe
His bellow calls you up to join him

From a porch, the fairest view
Sun...

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