Best Burrows Poems

Through shadowed trails, beneath the moon’s cold stare, 
     Its Amber gaze: a burden hard to bear.
This feathered prize found peace...

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Out of the burrows and hedges and dreys
Heads came a bobbing in frantic relays.
Rumours were twittered and grunted and squealed:
‘The Harvester’s coming to furrow the...

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a rhyme for the spring equinox...

the hills are growing green beneath the snow 
white horses, shake the winter from your manes
the spring has come, the...

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I once was a grand and old oak tree,
Wearing my crown with shades of green.
A protector of fields, a watcher of night.
I stood with my...

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Leveret scurries
Trained ears, panoramic sight
Saved - by a hare's breath.


Easter Bunny blinks
Burrows the deep undergrowth
Close shave this morning...

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The bees buzzed as they always did
and storms receded.
Silence hushed itself inside a shell.
Jackrabbits hopped away from hell
still intoxicated.

The village swarmed with threats.
Honest men could...

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In deep forest with rotten leaves and wood
Where the sun’s light finds it hard to reflect.
Where wind won't blow even if it could
below dense undergrowth,...

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I am an awkward aardvark

Awkward because, no one knows exactly
what kind of animal I am
how to classify me

I am an awkward aardvark

Evolved by necessity into...

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Beneath the passage of the sun
I surrender thoughts to a mindless haze
and turn my eyes around to gaze
upon the wave of rolling hills,
where tender grass...

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moon peers from heaven
                     ...

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Where the antelope used to play is now shopping malls and plats.
Man in his insatiable greed has encroached upon its ancient habitats.
Not so very long...

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Grains of sand 
hiding small burrows;
every tiny sand crabs, the Emerita Analoga
needs its burrow.
intense sunlight’s warm but
has its dangers, even for a tiny crab’s skin.
xiphosurans,...

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I can feel the slow sleep sitting
In a window made for slitting
Lullabys that have no morals
Tales of lies that seem so formal

Snow flakes falling on...

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yesterday
I worked without being able to control myself
I thought I was a guy in a pot of clouds
coming out of one of the earth
frightened

at midnight...

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What story should I tell?
This is the tale of how the lonely acorn fell
 far from where the mighty oak had stood
 cut by the...

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