Best Espying Poems


Eating With Bigfoot

My baking skills I have to change
Vast quantity is needed now
Cos I invited Bigfoot to lunch
Do I serve deer or a tasty cow

He doesn't want meat and two veg
His menu would want meat and nuts
For a whole deer he will surely beg
Must have protein and carbohydrates 

A nut roast to accompany his steer
Meat like a hog roast is cooking fine
Hmm nasty smell I think he is near
I hope he realises some of its mine

He squats his frame against a tree
Looks over to where I am
Geez I think he fancies eating me
Licking his lips causes me alarm.

But all is well he has spied
Lurking in a tree above
A grey squirrel looking boss-eyed
At big foot with a look of love

Down it comes and sit's quite near
Espying of the fruit and nuts
It doesn't eat cow or deer
I will high 5 this squirrel cos it has guts.

So all is well Bigfoot eats with glee
Most of the deer and nuts as well
Managed to leave a bit for me
Then up he leaves, left this story to tell.


Penned 17 April 2015 by Seren Roberts
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Monarch Butterfly

Dedicated To: Joe DiMino 

An ultimatum flight giving fancy, to monarch wings 
of beauty and grace. 
Towards the blazing sun she travels deep 
into the bowls of heaven, a fearless painted lady  
etched *gold *orange* red*, with a touch of black
She becomes a chiaroscuro angel, a Monarch of lace. 
Such utter perfection that even Picasso cannot duplicate 
Ignorant of endemics of earth her soul is a warrior 
through and through, she flies on and on ... 
like a Monarch of old to the moon and back she goes,    
espying every private room of angels and demons alike. 
When God gives you your final ultimatum dear friend, 
I pray that you choose well and like the Monarch,  
you will choose to go where He leads you, 
without ever asking, why ?  

Written by: Mystic Rose

Thomas Kinkaid

quick figurative brush stroke drawn out character sketch
(serendipitous verisimilitude)

i stand in awe
(with mouth agape) at elegiac, fantastic,
   and graphic idyllic Kinkade magic
   leaving breathlessness from craw

at such artistic talent oozing
   spellbindingly, whatever
   aforementioned noteworthy craftsman
   doth paint or draw,

and chanced to comment
   about sad affairs leaving flaw
in regard to questionable business ethics -
   where press hee haw
contradicting, maligning, undermining, and jaw
boning sans said late talented mortal
   engaging in sketchy traits of south paw

city when contrasted with a dog given gift -
   ooh...such rah...rah...rah
when he first appeared on the scene,
   where most viewers saw
utmost dynamic, fantastic, and harmonic convergence
displaying such prosaic, rhapsodic,
   titanic art show events

hum...and perhaps not surprising
   his illicit in dull gents presents stark contrast,
   staring hypnotized as imagination invents
experiencing peaceful, restful
   and tumblerful joie de vivre espying

   honorable mentioned nonpareil oeuvre
   that placidly rents
craving to disappear into bucolic landscape whence,
splashed upon canvass,

attempting to bat
presumed "FAKE" rumors aside as nonsense - fat
chance prevailed constituting:
   deceitful, immoral, unfaithful sly kat
nocturnal antics, despite scathing attacks

   (cut him down to size), niggardly praises spat
out for me, I maintain cult of personality (his)
   setting Mac Book Pro wallpaper
   with exemplary landscape, either authentic or copy cat.
Form: Elegy


King Arthur

King Arthur

Pendragon a boy of fifteen unknown
But of Merlin about the accord
Shrouding Arthur's rightful identity: King Uther's
Son. Upon King Uther's demise England
Needed a Sovereign...one prophesied in
Times of dragons...a great upholding
Savior. Albeit Nobles and Knights aspiring
Crown and Kingdom attempted conspicuous acquisitions
Failing in their efforts. So it was on 
Christmas Eve that Arthur came about
Needing a sword. Espying the one
Stuck in stone availed the iron...
Beginning eternal legends of King Arthur...

©deborah burch
02.17.2013

Premium Member Epitome of Love and Romance-Win

Shahjahan built the Taj Mahal, a mausoleum
Situated on the bank of the River Yamuna,
In memory of his beloved wife Mumtaz
With whom he fell in love at first sight
Espying her in a fair, enraptured by her charms.

 The very sight of The Taj leaves one mesmerized.
The voluptuous curves of domes and arches,
The rhythm of birds in flight, secrets of flowers,
Vibrant colors of Nature never fading,
Like the everlasting love of Shah Jahan,
Immortalizing it as the epitome of undying love,
A lyric carved in luminous marble,
This monument of immeasurable beauty.

The Taj Mahal, one of the Seven Wonders of the World,
The crown palace, of love and romance derives its name
From Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal, the immortal lovers.
It’s promise kept to the dying wife in of a child birth.


=====================================================
Shah Jahan was the emperor of India in 17th Century and Mumtaz Mahal was his third wife.
====================================================

Second Placement
Contest: Everyman's Ekphrasis by Brian Strand
The word Taj means crown and Mahal means palace-  The Taj Mahal is situated in Agra City of Uttar Pradesh state of India. Year of Construction: 1631-1653
Spread Over: 42 acres.

Yamuna: name of the river
Form: Verse

Epistle To Barack Obama

this epistle per mine choice of heir apparent presidential throne
composed from one liberal minded non-conformist rolling stone  

prompted awareness that one voice can affect which contestant will win
and occupy the white house after the votes get tallied from political spin

aware thy missive from an anonymous fellow  and a self anointed scribe
will be carefully screened no matter opinion already cast with nada bribe

personal opinion of this sole american male of two score and nine years
that barack obama possesses that je ne sais quois diplomatic state craft
   despite disparaging broadside starring paris hilton plus britney spears

the land of lincoln candidate exemplifies (to myself) a charismatic charm
in tandem with a relaxed persona and gait akin per a commoner on a farm

that nonchalant easy going affinity speaks nonverbal volumes to this chap
cringes when espying or hearing from opposing challenger whose lips flap
   meaning john mccain whose hidden motives and agenda include his trap
to plant seeds of doubt per un-decided electorate causing lead to get a zap

unknown how trials and tribulations rival democratic senator from  Illinois
will weather local nor global challenges and said solution he might employ
i opt for said captain to steer ship of state and exclaim to drop anchor ahoy

if via cosmic divine intercession the galloping newcomer in this horse race 
ushering biracial as nominal winner televisions would show a beaming face
the political ramifications analogous to betting square outcome on this ace

i gently beg, decry, fulminate counter attack advertisements fast and quick
against those subliminal sly messages that at first blush appear airily slick
and please reach deep in that magic bag resorting to retaliatory artful trick
lest burning from the madding crowd extinguished like jack’s candle wick!


Drinker's Mother

I found poison sweeter 
Than to be called Drinker's Mother 
It was second time You came home 
Caprenetoid and open buttons
When you came home like this at first time 
I haven't slept that night 
I was thinking and thinking 
Where my nurture not went right? 

I think you have forgotten 
those painful and hurtful night 
Yeah, you have forgotten 
Your mother's all pain and tear 
because of your father's bear 
I have heard those torturous words 
"look, Drinker's wife walking 
there on the road "
I fathomed myself -
"If I am Drinker's wife 
It's not my bloomer "
But,  if I am Drinker's Mother 
Ovio I am the offender 
Now,  I have no more power 
to tolerate dual agony's shower 
I am committing suicide 
without espying your wife 
Don't repeat my hellish life 
with that girl 
It's my last wish 
Say NO, NO To Alcohol

27 December, 2017
Form: Ode

A Breeze Ballet

A single orange leaf
twists and turns 'bove vibrant vales -
espying a shadowed glimpse
of nature's palette as she sails.
A variegated dreamer
drifts beyond a wooded realm -
'tween doughty boughs of balsa
floating o’er oak and elm.

She glides along the gleaming glens 
with bewitchery and charm -
fingertips slowly dance and dip
as she whispers in Fall's arms.
A silent soaring sonnet
soon greets her tinctured friends;
atmospheric art is born
as their colors braid and blend.

A masterpiece of chroma
gently lures the naked eye -
leaves of bronze and yellow
decorate a midday sky.
An orchestra of colored flags
sing passed a closing eve - 
now its time to bid adieu
and thus, each stipule leaves.

The orange leaf then slumbers
underneath a yawning sun.
Her wings have gone to sleep,
my friend, for her breeze ballet 
is done.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Just Another Rainy Day

A child yearned to play baseball today -
a million raindrops dashed the boy's luck.
Yet, espying an object upon the floor;
a moppet's imagination runs amuck.

The lad fantasized he was young David
and mighty Goliath was his foe.
Using his treasure as a slingshot,
he slew the giant with a single blow.

Next he was off to the wild, wild West -
pretending to be Chief Thunderdown!
He turned his friend into a headband -
sporting colored feathers 'round his crown.

Chief Thunderdown is injured in battle.
His arm dips like a clipped eagles’ wing.
The young lad acts as the town's doctor -
his treasure doubles as the chief's sling.

The child makes believe he's an archer;
alinging ten tin cans in a row.
A crayon transforms into an arrow -
his playmate will suffice as his bow.

The youngster is now a circus clown.
Under the Big-Top, he’ll giggle and dance!
Wriggling his playtoy around his waist;
his new found friend will hold up his pants!

Out of all the toys that adorn his room -
the small prize his dreams would expand?
A headdress, a belt and a slingshot are
brought to life by one boy’s rubberband. 


Inspired by:
Trash or Treasure?  Rhyming Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Karen Neary
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Government

Good job you are doing
Not all of us appreciate that
Not all things are pleasant,but
We tired to praising you
We tired to hearing your prevarication promises
We tired to espying your unskillful actions
We tired to succeeding your phrases, "Avocado noise" "Butterfly skirt"
We tired to retaining your streamlet fears
We tired to practicing in your unvisionary hours
We tired to promulgating your name.

You are the government, indubitably
The government without care spirit,
Here, 
we start to reminding you
We start to instructing you
We start to exhibiting you
We start to divulging your secrets
We start to modifying your plans
We start to weeping for you.

#EDM.

Cowl Lix Aged Language Lover

please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
   especially, encountering 
   the following conglomeration
   in matthew scott harris patois).

He readily admits writing inventive
   attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
   Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
   courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
   gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
   and certainly less
to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward 
   cogency, fancy ingenuity,
   levity, the inevitable 
   resultant wrought gobbledygook
   fascination for Lingua Franca
   feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
   and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
   sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
   finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
   swimmingly enervated 
   via erotic laced sentiments
   perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
   hollering, gesticulating floundering,
   (in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
   to avoid drowning at sea
   perchance comprehending passionate influence.

   Upon espying a signature poem of mine
   forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
   tib hush anonymous re:
   dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
   taking him/her to the brainy 
   (briny) deep brink
   Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
   aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
   alphabetic wanton soup,
   or figurative egg drop bub
   bling broth (el) doth brew)

   pronouns Sibyl affectation 
   affliction sans plethora,
   where each ladle full adrip with
   richly flavor Verdana Font lee
   and sincerely textured vocabulary.

   Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
   (blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
   suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
   particularly expectorating flashy 

   hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
   hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
   might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
   vis a vis plagiarize plethora 
  amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
   temptation to bask exultantly,
   professed glorious unrequited love
   announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:

The Mirror of Time

18/04/2017
Mirror Of Time

 
Surrounded by skeletons, 
All just a' running  and fast, 
Occupying their moments and minds., 
Big time,
Regrets of the past.., 
To stop themselves espying.., 
The mirror of time.

My friend.., my age, a paperboy., 
On his bike ., cycling to catch the freetime
Of a Sunny Saturday morning., 
In 20 Billion., I'll recall him.., 
Free-wheeling, right 'long,
The middle line.

Got an advert  inter-netted me., 
A mystic, says my future's all set.., 
For a minimal amount of coinage.., 
Tomorrow's Knowledge.,
And for a coin? 
What'd they hope for with what they purloin?

Guess I'll ask them in 20 billion.., 
See if they kinda misspent their days., 
They'll just give me their enamoured bible still.., in some kind of reverence, 
And say their guns speak louder than prayers. 

I'm just surrounded by all these walking skeletons., 
All running around to nowhere and fast., 
Trynna' occupy their minds and their moments,
But the mirror of time and their payment.., 
.....Comes....
At last.
Form:

Glue Bill Whar Ming Dublin Down

Court hiss sea hove The Irish Times,
     this hum mere ruck can bloke
kin esse spy climb mitt till impact
     desiccation ravaging with choke

hold thee aim rilled isle,
     which haint ok key doke
cuz won hoot rook froom sun
     whelps like heretic burned at stoke!
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -   
More to the point (meaning jaw
ken minus **** faux
hackney poetic strung bow
Willy Wonka barely understandable

     twanged and twinged) accent
hen reed how, accomplishment
in garnering alarming
     news-worthy ailment

     while this Unit Aryan ensconced
     within beef hoar tee four comfortably
     numb burred battlement,
here at Highland Manor,

     I pay (if totally tubularly pennies rolled)
     approximately equaling bedazzlement
17,500 viz copper cent,
per month gratuity clement,

sans Grosse and Quade
     associates co-management
offered rental assistance congruent
(predicated on social security disability)

     to occupy one bedroom
     apartment kept air 
     conditioned 60°Fahrenheit
     perfect for concupiscent

     activity, albeit unfortunately marriage
     shot thru with celibacy
     suppressed sexless existence
more difficult to control

     than catching a tiger by the tail,
     hence this damned delinquent dependent
Dickensian dada cooly cruising thru
      cyberspace espying embodiment,

how measurable heating up
     Gaia, i.e. Mother Earth (she) evinces
     no illusory figment, and just by a fluke,
     the spontaneous Google search,

     keyed revealed tumy mine eyes,
     wretched webpage showed
     stark rising temperature gradient
Dublin, Ireland experiencing

     worst drought since
     records began 168 years ago
where Irish Water (utility)
     warned Dublin would run out of water
     in 70 days, a “worst-case scenario”
     necessitating hyper-efficient
protocols immediately inherent.

Upon Espying Aesthetically Pleasing Females

I admit tubby distracted by a modeling
female physique when attempting to write,
an aching agony rips thru this son,
gripping with hard on – tight -
by Dickens constricting sensation,

who orbited the sun LX times
coon sitters himself heterosexual male,
where slumbering testosterone forces unite,
no matter my libido feels
deadened, this despite

the above mentioned
asthma ordinary devoid sexual drive,
when these eyes (brown and myopic) sight
even just a picture
oven an attractive gal fanciful flight

evokes dormant longings
crashing thru concentration
without any invite
sparring dueling animal urge,
I know ain't right

since being married,
and all (witches nothing to celibate)
boot even if aye hapt tubby
dim witted with cerebral blight
prurient predilections, would

nonetheless prevail causing affright,
whereby the photographed lovely lady
dashes out like shuttered image,
though only so few inches in height,
would make a bee line into an

unreachable cubbyhole,
 not totally airtight
just enough breathing room
to await darkening hour of night
than with lightspeed akin to meteorite

off into the farther reaches with a blink quite
invisible this quasi
holographic like pseudo sprite
leaves yours truly in the lurch ignite
ting a supposed sexual propensity gone cold

nay, no can do, cuz 
untethered high as a kite
electrifying animal desire forced to bite
the dust, though thankfully concupiscent pang
ordinarily not the least bit aroused, aye attest

nope, not lascivious provocative
Barenaked Ladies can NOT excite
an older fellow, whose adolescent body
seethed with hormonal secretion,
and any pretty young thang did alight

a stick up between still skinny legs,
hence people watching
(particularly gals), a birthright
even migrant and/or
teenage mutant ninja turtle doth delight

tool hook, but NOT touch
most times an effortless fight,
yet every once in a while atavistic
pulsations, asper call 
of the wild bobwhite

overrides instagramming, snapchatting,
and twittering uber with such might
even erupting sexless interludes of eunuch
or "FAKE" shining knight

chess moonlighting also  as “FAKE” playwright,
hence if perchance a beauty catches me sight
lack of youth in your favor
from my penitent penile plight!

Premium Member Joy

Joy 

Watching the sailboats go by without a care in the world 
gazing at the stars at night after their lights have unfurled
Viewing earth from a celestial window keeping an eye on 
gaping at tiny babies in their infant nurseries calling mom

Feasting on nature, flowers, trees, and mountain peaks 
following love wherever it leads when it lovingly, seeks 
Eyeing life from a joyful point of view without regret or rue 
Espying the spark in my lover's eye as he whispers I love you 

Beholding faith with a clarion soul that trumpets all it entails 
A mellifluous moment whole as the sun with nothing that ails
A hug, a caress , an embrace, tracing the lines of a favorite face
Day and weeks of appropriate deeds without a thing out of place  

What brings me great joy, is sharing time with family and friends 
Admiring the change of season and being grateful for its extend
Being able to go for walks, sing, write , and  cook a great meal 
Owning a contented heart that nothing on this earth can steal. 

July 21, 2022
Form: Couplet

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