Best Fable Poems
O, my angel, how smitten are yearnings of lonely night!
Will lover’s fantasy enchant, dream of this dreary night?
Though alluring is its rhythm, are you aware my sweet love,
Forlorn is the song, vying favor of this sullen night?
Glance of seduction, glamor of opulence, express doubt:
Can an enamored moon enthrall, this melancholic night?
My dear, how sincerely must I plead, to heavens above:
Let dawn of desires blossom, in passion of wistful night!
It is the quest of my appeal and zeal of my longings:
Oh, fervor of my love, conquer this solitary night!
Have you not heard my love, benevolence of my prayer,
Appealing to the goddess, tolling fervid wish of night?
Voice of love proclaims~ fertile is ending of our story:
Passions will flourish, sowing seeds of love, in womb of night.
You too heard the prophecy, in words of Aphrodite:
Epistle of romance bestows, entrance to glory night!
Expect me my dear, commanding the chariots of knights;
Welcome me with a kiss, to empire of hypnotic night.
O, my angel, open your heart, let-in dream of lifetime,
Where we shall dwell forever, crafting fable of the night.
There once was a fox, as wise as can be,
He lived in the hollow of an old oak tree.
Not so very far from an ol’ Farmer’s Farm;
A farmer he knew would do him great harm.
Also, on that farm lived a lively young goose,
And he caused the fox’s dry mouth to juice.
Without a care, the goose gandered about,
Causing the fox great apprehension, no doubt.
One day they met at the edge of the farm:
The goose knew, for sure, the fox meant him harm.
Mr. Fox, I know you can eat me, he said,
But, I know a better way you can be fed.
The farmer has many an egg you can eat,
and they are more juicy than feathery meat.
I’ll tell you just how to gain your supply;
as quick as a wink, or the blink of an eye.
The farmer is rich and he doesn’t have need
for all of his wealth, and all of his greed.
We poor of the earth, he cares not about:
We should take eggs from the lecherous lout.
Sure, he feeds us, and quite well in fact,
But he profits from the sweat of our back.
We animals are brothers, and should take heed
About each others wants and each others need.
You can sneak around by the ol’ mill gate,
while I distract the hound, down by the lake.
His threat to you I shall circumvent,
and you can then eat to your hearts content.
The sly ol’ fox, he surmised this odd tale:
Hen’s eggs were delicious, he knew quite well.
Oh, this we will do, he quickly agreed:
Eggs, he knew, were quite delicious indeed.
So, the goose set off, the hound to distract,
And also the fox, to the mill gate out back.
But, the goose had another plan in his mind;
A problem solution of a far different kind.
He enlisted the hound in his subversive trick,
To solve the fox dilemma finally and quick.
He sent the hound round to the ol’ mill gate,
Leaving himself to just piddle and wait.
Then suddenly upon him with claw and tooth
Pounced the fox, ‘fore he could honk or hoot.
In this moral lesson we all can deduce,
Why no-one says: “he’s as sly as a goose”.
The SLY fox knew: “If the goose would betray
the farmer that feeds him, he will betray me too.”
Lionel
The pig overheard the farmers conversation,
talking about their crops and needing weather salvation,
the farmers saying "it'll probably rain when pigs fly!,"
to help out the pig thought he'd give it a try,
He wallowed out of his mud and snuck around,
to the inside of the barn not making a sound,
climbing up the ladder to the hayloft above,
he wished someone would help him by giving him a shove,
But then he cast all fear and anxiety aside,
with a running start he thought he would glide,
alarmed he fell down to the earth with a thud,
wishing he had never left the confines of his mud,
He was slightly bruised as well as his pride,
thanking God he had a pretty thick hide,
thinking wait till he tells his friends that are so dear,
to "not believe everything that you hear!"
2-24-17
My Fable~
Real Life Shoe Fable
Old Woman with too many kids
Lives in ancient shoe
Kicks out the heel
And puts in a pool!
(7/5 Trochee Poem)
Chicken Little, thinking that
sky was soon to fall,
saw a mortuary and
crawled beneath a pall.
He was in a strange dark box
where a dead man lay.
Then before he knew it, they
hauled that box away!
He was moved, but that poor bird
couldn’t get a look,
for they’d closed the wooden lid,
Chicken Little shook.
When the casket got dropped down
in the ground so deep,
Chicken Little, very scared,
still made not one peep!
He was sure the sky fell down
when he heard the dirt
being shoveled over him.
This was gonna hurt!
Nothing happened, but he could
barely take in air.
Am I dying? Little thought:
Is the sky still there?
No more would the animals
hear poor “Little’s” call
warning them of tragedy
if the sky should fall.
Chicken Little never guessed
he was murdered by
that same earth he‘d walked upon,
and not by the sky!
Moral: Fear can sometimes lead you into something far worse than you ever imagined, so be careful not to fear things too greatly!
An oldie for Joseph May's Fabled Musings Poetry Contest
In the orchard of opalescence
magnificent myriads of mellows
fervently flow in fountains
breathing beguile blossoms
a forgotten fable ferments,
in haunting hollows I hear.
My heart is a restless garden
with varying pulses of penumbra
conflicts caressing cuddles
tenacious tattered thorns
singing to sumptuous serenades
where brisking bubbles burst
butterflies spread beautiful wings
bees buzzing like ballerinas
to ballads in pirouettes--
a symphony calms my anxieties
descending from azure skies
but my vineyard wilts in agony.
A bird drops a seed of hope
from a foreign land in my orchard
sprouting to strive in storms
emanating exotic effervescence
ballerinas pause their buzz
butterflies flee in fear
serenades slip in streams
out casting the stranger seed.
I touch the seed with curiosity
blissfully in my meadow
melancholy melts to melodies
auspicious aurora allures
tender bud in lavender hues
drenching my dulcet dreams
in showers of chrysanthemum whispers
draping my fears at dusk
embrace my weariness with love
Is this what I'd been awaiting
a stranger I've always known
Aphrodite in lilac curtains
blushes to unfurl the petals
my fingers touch her musings
her fragrance blooms my orchard
ensnaring my sapphire senses
sparkling in emerald dew drops
I plant her beside my window
she's my fable of felicity
vineyard reviving to life
as tendrils ascend to witness
her velvet lullabies
"Sleep my love
another garden awaits me"
July 30, 2020
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place
Life is like a flower this does blossom ever.
Visiting such a nice village I forget never.
So much of love you give I cannot compare.
I am much thankful, oh Sarsara as you care.
Air gives freshness, soil feels new breeze,
Standing in your lap, I see ever green trees.
Please you tell me fable, I am very stable,
Cable of love ties us, I see mirror on table.
Able I am by your bless to stand near you,
Oh Sarsara! Wisdom you give is pure new.
Dew of new dawn adores joy of the dusk,
Busk I hear in street, it greets giving musk.
Husk, removing from fruit you give sweet,
Eat, we eagerly, we are fortunate to meet.
Beet you offer, you offer roots and crops,
Farmers are ever happy getting rain drops.
Stops, a visitor to see, your beauty more,
Door is opened of my heart you are in core.
Store I memory, feeling lucky is sun light,
God is graceful, he makes our lives bright.
© Pintu Mahakul, 11 September 2016. All rights reserved.
My Note: Sarsara pronounced as Sar-Sa-raa is name of a village and meaning of Sarsara is union of soul with God. This poem is written as a tribute to villagers and village Sarsara situated in Western part of Bonai Sub-division of Sundargarh district in Odisha state of India.
Oh, my darling, how passionately you whisper to me
Secrets of forbidden love, titillating magical feelings
Mesmerizing romantic night in blossoms of dreams
Beckoning to heavens above to fulfill sweet fantasy
Alluring sensuous desires twinkling in glistening skies
As I feel your vibes, sparkling in your glamorous eyes.
Ah! river’s serene zeal rejoices your sensuous appeal
Rippling exhilaration emanating from tranquil stream
Sensing my arrival in tenor of soft midnight breeze
Rustling shamrock leaves echoing hearts’ tender music
As melodies of doting souls warble from smitten trees
Jubilant in aspirations, mythical fascinations reveal.
Chasing earthly passions in rhythms of ecstatic ballad
Oh, how I, quixotic star, inflame in your cuddling arms
Crooning breaths on sensual lips, answering you call
Satiating night you vied for, till I part at stroke of dawn
Leaving behind part me to forever cheer your heart
Inscribing upon eternal memories, fable of romance.
September 30, 2020
Placed 1st: Impacts and metaphors poetry contest
A FABLE FOLLOWS
Seeing her son’s smile fade and his face turn to bother,
A question she made, then asked, as his loving Mother.
“Why is your face now laid with such a pouting slant?”
Not scant was the answer he did grant, “Because I’m a can’t,
Wanting to be a can, and can is what I can’t until I’m a man.”
“I can’t reach the bathroom sink when I brush my teeth;
I can’t open the cellar door to see what lies beneath;
Big kids say I can’t play ball because I’m too small;
Adults have such cool books, but I can’t read, just look;
Adults say overly much, ‘don't touch, can’t touch, no to touch’;
Carnival rides have tall lines my head can’t find for a long time;
I can’t use Dad’s tools, not unless he’s there, it’s his rule;
Cabinets and shelves can’t be reached by child-sized selves; and
Better to be a child of elves, ‘cause, Mother, there’s much else,
So many cant’s to rant that telling all, well, I just can’t!”
The boy ran out the door with his pout larger than before.
He broke many fallen sticks, he threw several red bricks,
He kicked lots of rocks and he pulled strings on his socks.
Arriving at the nearby park, he saw a man without a spark.
The elderly man sat on a swing, not at all swinging and
This same old man stared straight ahead, not at all blinking.
The boy stood, thinking, then speaking, “You don’t seem fine.”
The man spoke, "I'm old with no shine. I rage at my age.
I've lost my smile. Joy would place on my face without stall
if all the while I were a child, if I were just, again, boy-small."
... CayCay Jennings
March 2, 2018
“Beware…the beauty of the flower isn’t always as it seems.
If you choose to partake of the sweetness of the nectar,
your fate may be sealed”
A hummingbird flew in my yard, ‘twas in the early morning hour,
hovering o’er my garden blooms while searching for the perfect flower.
Flying ‘round the bright array, he caught sight of a fresh pink daisy
facing towards the morning sun; the flower’s essence drove him crazy.
Coming near the fresh pink bloom whose dew dropped petals seemed quite rosy;
nearer still he couldn’t resist the fragrance of this scented posie.
Drawing close to flower’s bud, his senses like a sweet detector;
placing beak into the bloom the bird began to sip the nectar.
Motionless above the plant until his needs were fully sated;
belly full he moved away not knowing that his time was fated.
How was hummingbird to know the poison of this flower’s honey
soon would lead to his demise, and thus his day would be less sunny.
Satisfied the sleepy bird, into the morning sky, went flying,
poisoned, and his fate was sealed, the hummingbird would soon be dying.
October 11, 2019
a limerick by Wayne Wysocki
The tortoise and hare had a race
But the rabbit came in second place
So the notion that speed
Makes the win guaranteed
Just isn't always the case.
A rising sun sheds light, Bright
from darkness. To you I turn, our eyes
meet for the first time today. Inspiring, tempting,
I want to ravage you. Reveal your mysteries,
talk to you, a conversation. Enter your mind,
a vocal form of four-play
Remember the night we met? that play
I took you to see Rent, your blue eyes shone bright.
We walked, talked, drank coffee. You opened your mind
to me. Penetrating mine with your baby blue eyes.
I was intrigued by your mysterious
ways I still am. Everyday your more tempting.
You tease me with your unrelenting, seductive, temptation.
just by looking your direction you play
tricks on me. Everyday I try to unravel your mystery,
still I come up empty. I love that your so bright.
Intelligence shows through your eyes
Another American great mind.
I'll be home later, do you mind?
My friends are going to the bar, it's tempting.
You trust me, I know, it shows through your eyes.
We're all going to watch football, drink and play
pool. Everyday my love grows brighter
for you. that is no mystery
Our love is like a mystical
fable. A story from a romantic mind.
Yes we argue, yes we fight, this brightens,
strengthens our bond. Other women force temptation,
of course. But, I would never play
outside of your watchful eye.
Everywhere I go your eyes
follow. This is all part of your mystery.
I look forward to coming home, the sexual games we play,
the conversations that stimulate my mind.
I love you, your my temptress,
and like the sun, my love will always shine bright.
Eyes like Cleopatra, with a beautiful Mind
your Mysterious ways, your love, such Temptation
fourPlay in conversation. Never dim, always Bright
stanza 1.............................................. 1,2,3,4,5,6
stanza 2.............................................. 6,1,5,2,4,3
stanza 3.............................................. 3,6,4,1,2,5
stanza 4.............................................. 5,3,2,6,1,4
stanza 5.............................................. 4,5,1,3,6,2
stanza 6.............................................. 2,4,6,5,3,1
concluding tercet
first line............................................... 2 & 5
second line........................................... 4 & 3
third line............................................... 6 & 1
..........:JP)..............................
Once casting violent rays
The setting sun will fall
Among the depth of the haze
The darkness will swallow all
Inside a deep vast cave
A new hero will rise
The princess he will save
And bring darkness to demise
But he faces many troubles
Along his dreary path
The danger on earth just doubles
Will darkness bring its wrath?
With his sword and shield
The hero carries on
Within his soul will yield
A truth that was once gone
I think it's always been there
just in the back of my mind where
a moral spin
of subtle children's interpretations
recalled a story told in Babcis and Dziedzic explanations;
(grandmas and grandpas) *
Some men and women find themselves in darkness lost
just like the solitary man in the moon at winter frost,
he or she led a life distorted
wallowed in the lust of flesh, greed, lie, and sin
until one day, the life itself had come to a desperate tragic end;
life's lessons well remembered,
he or she sought forgiveness from Hell's embers
and the spirit of the Lord heard
listened hopefully to the imploring words
asking forgiveness for the lessons learned;
the answer came with a yes
but first a life long test
a message for the rest
be guide, be light
on every cold December night;
"until time's end, then
at the apocalypse of noon
forever be -
the man, the women, learned teacher
in the face of the moon."
Joseph May
Fabled Musings
2/7/21
A little boy and an ant became great friends one day.
But how to live drew them apart, and this is how they ran astray:
In the Ant’s heart was strict authority and constant work to rule the day.
Why wasn’t the boy toting behind someone, collecting for the food array?
The ant would always build everything in exactly the same proven way.
The anthill, underground, protected them perfectly as shown, every day.
Not adding to the hive was a horrible crime, none would ever display.
The ant knew all would be perfect, if everyone did their job, and obeyed.
But the boy wanted to build bridges and trestles, just like his Dad, each day.
All of them out in the open, none of them under ground or hidden away.
Inventiveness came with the notice, of new and exciting things in daily play.
His life was really cool, not boring, as standing in a line would convey.
He’d invent, ponder, and build in exciting, new ways, to fit each new byway.
Quick minded, resilient he’d build, many fascinating and unique causeways.
The boy and the ant eventually went away, not happy with how the other lived.
They thought the other shortsighted and scorned, at what the other could give.
But they went away without realizing, how very similar were their lives.
For each would spend their time endeavoring to help others with their drive.
But understanding is a harder concept than building a bridge or storing food.
It takes a true gift to see the world as others do…
The moral to this story is really quite easy for all to see:
You can’t expect others to live lives, how you want them to be.
Each was adding to their different worlds, only they could see.
One building for a smaller, singular hive, the other the hive of mankind, you see.
Each in their own way: truly cast a long shadow to fill… an important need.