Best Feather Poems
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
There, high upon a sheer jagged, rocky cliff,
An appaloosa horse of many colors stands majestic;
There, under a blazing azure sky above,
An Ojibwa girl looks at the beautiful land of Canada.
There, in that mighty wind that roars and howls,
Eagle feathers in my hair and on my horse gently flutter;
There, below the Ottawa River thunders,
And the vast lands of wilderness stretch to the horizon.
There, above in that cloudless sky canopy,
Eagles fly, symbolizing the Peoples spirit and strength;
There, in my dream, I am one with my ancestors,
The only sound is the wind that moves the fluttering feathers.
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
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April 29, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"A Lost Feather"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-077-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
4/1/2019, 2019 Poetry Marathon Final Placement
Sponsor, Mark Toney
Seventh Place
_______________________________
Submitted to Marathon, Mile 24
Sponsor, Mark Toney
First Place
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For the contest, A Poem Please
sponsor, John Lawless
Fourth Place
Pain had damaged her wings
in her seemingly endless struggles
beating them against the valley walls,
then, in the last days she made haste
and climbed to the mountain’s summit
and flew free.
At first I could not see
that the sun and the moon
were shining on that verdant floor
where she lay still
till her soul opened its wings and ascended to live
far above the clouds.
That bird of her soul encompassed the earth
casting no shadows
in all the six directions, and as I watched her ascent
one falcon feather like a sycamore seed
spiralled down and became entangled
in my hair.
I found myself floating again
numerous wings to fly
a curve on the mountain
a mellow in the morning
evaporating in azure sky.
Should I go ahead?
Is there a world that's mine...
the feather wonders each day.
Lo! The whirlpool scatters them all
it rises alone, terrified in the wind.
Hush! The streams calm those shrieks
the feather strides on a fluffy cloud
glittering shades of scarlet twilight
then falls to slumber on a pale leaf...
July 28, 2020
STRAND completely new (14)any theme any form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: 1st Place
WTF burning bright with pondering ink.
Graceful swans or blackbirds skedaddling
across the vast and empty space. The think
kerplunking into cavernous link.
The quill flying…descriptives diving
onto the writer’s canvas…surviving.
WTF, loud and clear, dear John…
the calligraphic rend of relationship…
The salutation is a haunting paragon.
Parisian-perfumed paper is withdrawn.
The ebony of the crow’s feather, fitting.
His abdominals are eternally splitting.
WTF, wet with mascara tears. Joy
at the indoctrination of its mirth,
bearing personalities of a girl and boy.
To induce was another cousin’s ploy -
joining in on the birth experience fun,
flexing his muscles, nearly triplets spun.
WTF, wading in pools of grace, prayerful rest
of folded hands - serenity glides over vellum.
The ink, so gentle, melodic, transfigured, blessed.
Saint’s swan lyrics - God’s glory expressed.
Whisper of angels, feathers like baby’s-breath.
Resurrected quill in pall of Christ’s death.
clouds caress the sky
with a trail of white feathers...
grass tickles our toes
.............................................
7/13/15 For Skat's Contest: "Feathers"
my eyes are covered
glide the plumes oh so s l o w l y
tickle my fancy
Was used in a contest once for Richard Lamoureux
You float and fly
for all to see
you fill the sky
with daydream fantasy
A sign, this fate
foreseeing plans
laid about
through gentle hands
Drifting off
in heartfelt mystery
A captured hope
through painted scenes
clearing minds
and what it means
Soon that gift
will be alive and free
as I hold your
feather
as a memory
Leaving my son's house
a rain-burst had just passed.
At the edge of the wood,
contrasted against dark clouds,
a single tree stood glowing.
Wet in the sun’s rays,
its leaves shimmering in the breeze.
Like a feather in the forest floating,
Singly.
Brightly shining yellow green,
A cottonwood applauds the coming of the rains.
Waving glimmering in rain rays, wet enlightening.
Reminding me to dance in the sun.
At night the Whip-Poor-Will sings
A frantic lover's tune Whip-Poor-Will Whip-Poor-Wil
At dawn the Dove's coo coo _soft peace surely brings
Then the Roosters in their chorus appeal
Singing a tune that is slightly shrill
As the gray clouds amass like sand 'pon the beach
Birds sing unrehearsed a tune destined at birth
Each one their own melody a treat
'Tis a delight, laughter, and mirth
To most residence of this great earth
But when the Owl's hoot is heard
A name he calls tells of coming woe
Please sing a song lovely Catbird
Not you Owl with your death bow
Awake me soft cooing Dove tell me its not so
Inspired by Francine Robert's contest
Whimsy in English Quintain
Birds topic chosen
Written this Fourteenth day of April 2013
A shadow of the sun
a silhouette created by a sunset
One more summer has came and went
and I'm sitting inbetween the hours of 8 and 9
miserable and lonely
Is it me
Is it me to get screwed over aimlessly
tied in a knot of pretty little bow
on top of a brand new shredder
Oh no, there's one of my strands caught
here I go into the cascade of oblivion
Is it me
Is it me to lay here, stuck in a timeless routine
I could predict every step of my life
name all the things I would do down to the key
the hours and times I would end and begin again to find a source of idiotic entertainment
Is it me, is it me
Why is this me
I could blame every inch of this city
I could blame every inch of this city
I could point all my fingers at this blistering heat
but it would just look like I'm bowing down in submission to the sun
but it would just look like there's something massively wrong with me
Is there something massively wrong with me
I just want to go back home
but I would just be the same wreck as I am now
I just want to go back home
but I'd still be me, moping in someone's elses grief
I'd still be me getting screwed over by more cunning minds
or just the less naive
As morbid as it seems
the days I live sometimes just makes me want to abruptly
shut my eyes and never open them again
the poetic mind I bear which never ceases these endless visions
these endless memories I'd rather forget
and never remember
I can't chuckle at the things that point the knife in back
and turns to where I can't run away, paralyzed
I have a fear of drowning
I've mentioned it before
I just want to buy an ocean
and float on my back
float on my back, sail to a distant island
or close my eyes and sink like a feather of lead...
These summer days aren't how these used to be
The gurgling of the brook
Daisies swaying on the bank
As light as a feather I am, to look
Problems tossed with the stone that sank
The wind chime music, playing light
Jingling in the soft breeze of air
As light as a feather, I take flight
My mind is floating in ways I care
Clouds travel above me in the sky
Moving in patterns to see
As light as a feather, I watch them go by
Dreaming of places I want to be
Soft Dandelion seeds circle in wind from flowers
In an open field, where I am free
As light as a feather, like soft rain showers
In a ballet dance between each tree
As light as a feather, where I have peace of mind
As light as a feather, in these discoveries I find
Heidi Sands
7/30/22
A robin holds her verdant perch
La primavera song
Now fills the air of nature’s church
As I stroll along
I stop to try and catch a glimpse
To witness her refrain
Beheld in beauty lush and green
So sweetly does she reign
Her heartfelt chorus carries me
It is suggestive of
What I would call, this morning
A feathered song of love
Floating through the trees
On the current of the wind
Soaring to freedom
Mounting to the sky
Drifting slowly back again
Smoothly descending
Dancing with the leaves
Swirling in a light whirlwind
Spiraling downward
Completely silent
Falling from heaven to earth
Softly lands below
Paused for a moment
Swept up in a gentle breeze
No longer in sight
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
In life…
Whether you remain as plain toast,
Or into a soldier you are cut,
Whether you are covered in marmalade,
Or dipped into yolk from an egg cup,
In life there’s one main rule, should you fall…
Stay butter side up!
after “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” (also sometimes called “Daffodils”) by William Wordsworth
I wandered weightless as a feather,
a muted plume from mourning dove.
A tuft afloat in breezy weather
connected now to skies above;
as long as winds will carry me
from over fields and out to sea.
My glad esprit more free than birds,
detached from mortal needs I fly,
where spirits long to share their words
among the songs in clouds, I sigh...
for Earth was never this composed,
this high I travel unopposed.
Oh cumulus, a meadow white,
I feel at home atop your waves
illuminant, in purest light.
Mid savored heights my mem’ry saves
inertia of the clover green
and shiver of the water’s sheen.
Such riches now I do enjoy
in solitude away from fray.
I'm free from living once so coy;
in spirits’ realm I long to stay,
for then, myself I will fulfill
with gild as gold as daffodil.