Best Dover Poems
Vera Lynn's, "There'll Be Bluebirds Over, The White Cliffs Of Dover",
Keeps streaming through my brain like a wafting zephyr over and over!
'Tis a poignant reminder of sad and cheerless days during World War Two,
Yet, the Cliffs themselves were a beacon of hope when things were looking blue.
What a beautiful sight for weary bomber crews returning from flak-filled skies!
Seeing those venerable Cliffs, thanking God for their safe return with joyous cries!
Brave young men would live another day to carry on the battle with wings of flight;
On the 'morrow some to live, some to die to rid the world of tyranny's blight!
Royal Air Force pilots clashed in battle o'er the Cliffs - so very few, the very brave,
Defending Britain's shores as enemy planes flew from France in wave after wave!
Alas, many forfeited their lives on The Altar of Honor defending precious liberty.
They placed national destiny above their own that their countrymen might live free.
On a clear day the Cliffs could be seen gleaming from across the Dover Straits.
'Twas surely a beacon of hope for those across the sea facing uncertain fates.
They placed their hope in God praying that their comrades from across the way,
Would come to carry the Torch of Freedom to their shores one glorious day!
The magnificent South Foreland Lighthouse above the Cliffs today stands tall,
And brave men lie in hallowed graves awaiting Gabriel's clarion bugle call.
And Vera Lynn's "There'll Be Bluebirds Over, The White Cliffs Of Dover",
Yet streams through my brain like a wafting zephyr over and over and over!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
In our little Arkansas Dover town, we never clown around, about the sacrifice
Christmas is about Christ, and his great love, which suffices
We live and let live, to our charities we give, for in heaven above
It's all about Love, refining one's self, to enjoy in Dove, who is love
We put down the mind of strife, we celebrate Christ's birth
The sacrifice, `tis about life, and knowing it’s worth
Increasing our unction, never to wane, the Lamb's fame
In public we still pray, at our functions we still say, “in the Name”
In celebration of Love's life, we give up, all of our means
No hazing, it's amazing, all over town, Nativity scenes
To suffices our worship, the special day is necessary
Signs of heaven, Love's leaven, the Babe, and mother Mary
The Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, some don't want to get even close, (or near)
For they fear, the special day of love's cheer, unto Christ, so dear
Have a very, very, merry, Christmas, Devonshire, to heaven for sure, and to all at Soup
Now year is close to over, don't be a rover, please visit Dover, “old Moses love scop”
10-16-09 For Carolyn's Christmas contest
4th placement
There once was a
lady from Dover,
that wasnt good in
kissing her lover.
She bite him so hard
like futurless bard.
He later pursued her
to Dover.
Cliffs of Dover
© Ben Burton
Leah, lovely Leah, looking good and well tonight
As you walk the Cliffs of Dover with a faint, but regal, smile
And paint your wistful dreams on the facing's chalky white
The Cliffs of Dover plan to keep you for a while
On seven years since nature's wrath came blowing
To channel spirits in salt water long asleep
Appeared a lovely girl steadfastly hoping
To summon fate and make a date with destiny
No clinging ray of hope left to console her
A love knot woven into silken, jet black hair
Three hundred feet below, the crash of rollers
Her champagne eyes reflecting spectres dwelling there
What Siren's tale brought one so young such sorrow
Her spirit riddled with regret she could not purge
And though losers are not favored with the laurel
The winners' cup will render ashes in return
The myst'ry of your heartache ebbs and flows upon the tide
Were you searching for what few folks ever find
Does yesterday's remorse provoke tomorrow's suicide
Another mermaid heeds the call from Neptune's brine
Leah, lovely Leah, look like bloody hell tonight
As you walk the Cliffs of Dover with a ghostly, languid smile
But the haunted dreams you painted on the facing's chalky white
Have faded from the tears of another set to die
The Cliffs of Dover bid farewell to you, dear child
Near Dover Arkansas can be viewed on most any night
A puzzle documented as, ‘The Dover city lights‘
Folks from many miles around, some even out of town
Eyes fill with wonderment when the lights begin to clown
I have viewed myself, no proof of science I found
From the mountain above, as interest begins abound
The lights flicker in different colors, energetically
They dance and prance, leap and treatment for all to see
This outstanding thriller performs an impressive show
In a valley below, on Long Pool waterway, well I know
In the night sky are voices, with many thoughts and theory
As the lights pretend ghostly pranks, their trade quite scary
One popular legend has it some old miner lost his gold
Lights are many who died believing, “still searching are lost souls’
To a Native Indian raid on a wagon train, some attention is laid
If so the braves were plenty, for the lights are many charades
My personal suspicion, it is the moon’s seduction
In riffled waters below, anomaly is moon’s concoction
Perhaps the campfires in Long Pool park below, give show
The utter mystery glow, in Big Piney riffles below
For and in Honor of Carolyn Devonshire
And Contest
Cliffs of Dover Horn Haiku
This is kind of about North Korea.
Play death on demand
Thing is getting out of hand
And was poorly planned.
His name was Say Who
Accepted their point of view
Was killed that is true.
So who may be next?
Causing us to be perplexed
Sent message of text.
North has no clover
So should do a flyover
But Cliffs of Dover?
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran, Poet and Soothsayer
The wind blew so hard, I fell out of my tree
Not literally my friends, but I did start to pee
Inspired “Yellow Waterfall” by I. P. Dover
A bestseller the whole damn world over
Back to the blow, sure had to duck some debris
A Weimaraner residing in Dover
is this summer’s most delightful rover
He’ll swim and he’ll play
on Delaware Bay
having a blast ‘till the day is over
Death is the thing with feathered wings
Here on these rocky Dover cliffs
Against which breaks perpetual wave upon wave
Melting away this earth-stone base
Atop which rests the sky
Sleepwalkers, walking with lead-laden feet
They dream only of falling, falling
Let us, love, dream of one another
Beneath the white gulls crying
And the moon-tides dying
Penelope could touch her toes
And quickly would assume that pose
But everyone knows
It isn't her toes
That beckons to so many beaux!
I am alone, by choice you see.
No time for romance, it just isn't me.
Or, maybe it's pain...that I don't long to feel,
that keeps me alone, and afraid to feel.
I look at a couple and sometimes think,
I used to have that, but now it's history.
I open my eyes as if from a dream..I'm another year older..and time is passing
me.
A Lonely Dove I am and may forever me, but I am surrounded by color's and
that's enough for me.
Green snail discovered the tiny robot lost in the grass.
The only other who had spoken was a deep water bass.
Hop on, and I will take you to your people snail told him.
The robot was shy, but decided to do it on a little whim.
The robot was glad for a ride that never seemed to be over.
At this rate how long would it be to get back to Planet Dover?
Feeling less lonely and afraid, robot did wish snail was faster.
I don’t know where Dover is, snail admitted. Want to see the master?
The master was an owl who said he could get him as high as a tree.
Where robot sat for centuries, waiting for his alien space ship to see…
But they did not come, and he wished he was back with the green snail.
He did not like this earth where people only came outside for the mail.