Best Fleece Poems
In England’s pleasant pastures amid the free wild flowers
Lie pagan ways the wise ones do not mock
And one adept at harnessing these ancient rural powers
Was Oggwool Fleece, the black sheep of the flock
Oggwool was old, much older than the old oak it was said
Beneath whose boughs the dark sheep’s plans are sealed
‘Twas said the sheep had come back from the other side of dead
With the darkness in that corner of the field.
The farm hands better knew to venture in the oak’s strange shade
Or to the long grass that the darkness gripped
Where Oggwool lurked amid the spells and potions he had made
A sheep unshorn and magically undipped.
Not limited by four hooves in working his deft skill
Unhindered in ambitious sheepish plans
Harnessing the dark elves to do his dark sheep will
Dexterously with little dark elf hands.
From that darkened corner of that English country field
His influence extends itself outside
His arcane woolly web through which his mystic powers wield
Reaching parts and persons spread worldwide
He has extensive vineyards in Italy and Spain,
He has mining operations in Peru
He owns a flock of ostriches down in the Ukraine
(Although he never quite intended to)
He’s engineering world events on scales beyond the ken
He has his hooves in business of all kinds
He interferes remorselessly in world affairs of men
With night-time thoughts drip-fed to human minds
Little green men fly through space in saucers flat and round
On interstellar missions without cease
But on their furthest journey yet, their enterprise is bound
To the ever growing plans of Oggwool Fleece
The politicians spin their words and armies shoulder arms
And yet do not beyond their small acts see
But Oggwool Fleece with thistle skills and other sheepwise charms
Is planning how to rule a galaxy!
Categories:
fleece, adventure, animals, business, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Cherished gold
illuminating
eyes glint leaving emptiness
Categories:
fleece, cry, dark, evil, lust,
Form:
Haiku
With The Fleece Torn From A Fallen Suitor's Heart
Where were you, as cold winds ate these aging bones,
away counting your wealth, your precious gemstones;
a marauding mist that surrounds its weakened host
tho' cherished, your heart remained as a fleeting ghost.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Where were you, as dark nights- savaged a hurting soul,
idling in wanton lust- polishing your golden bowl;
with the fleece torn from a fallen suitor's heart
in a blind cave, far from what wisdom could impart.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Where were you, as death sent its dark to make calls
parading in your cold heart talking to empty halls;
a lost and vain entity, few could recognize
no longer the tempting beauty, once thought a prize.
Life lesson learned, the weak become the prized prey.
Time says, the predator will someday have to pay.
Robert J. Lindley,10-14-2018
Rhyme, (Fleeing echoes from a heart broken past)
edited from an old poem fragment.
Categories:
fleece, betrayal, dark, judgement, lost
Form:
Rhyme
I sit on my porch on this beautiful day
I will become this poem prayer I now pray
I have learned to enjoy the simple things in life
My daughter’s smile and the love of my wife
The way the leaves rustle in the morning breeze
God’s music always seems to bring me such ease
I love how the breeze softly kisses my face
Tis’ the natural wonder of God’s embrace
I have learned to love as well as learned to live
You know life’s greatest joy is learning to give
Give all that you are till you empty your cup
Have the heart of a lion, soul of a pup
The beautiful things truly cost not a dime
I’m trying hard to make the most of my time
So many years wasted so few left to go
There are so many things that I wish to know
I learn so many new things each passing day
Sometimes I feel like I’m slipping away
I’m trying hard to become all I can be
I owe that social responsibility
What this poem’s about I truly don’t know
Reckon it’s just another piece of my soul
A soul that has finally found itself some peace
What was once a rock is now softer than fleece
Categories:
fleece, faith, introspection, life, peacebeautiful,
Form:
Couplet
Insurance
first customer of day
sheep farmer needs life insurance.
fleecing begins early
Categories:
fleece, hilarious,
Form:
Senryu
The governments are fighting.
They're handing us their guns.
Which one will we call evil
and will ours be the ones?
Our enemies a soldier
who's married with a child
who's fighting for their country
for fear that it has riled.
Their leader is a danger
of everything we know,
but when they start to mimic;
we'll shoot them full of CROW!
Categories:
fleece, abuse, analogy, eulogy, evil,
Form:
Quatrain
Pumping through the boundaries
like water out of a burst pipe
they go beyond
in search of that golden fleece.
Leaving the yam and millet
In hands of ''intellectual weaklings".
Deserting their muddy palaces
Resorting to restrooms yonder
Good hands seasoned for hoes
now tremble at the feel of paltry foreign notes.
It's where ice-cream falls from the sky.
So they say.
Here the soil is "too brown".
They set the stone abroad for those
lofty buildings
and leave to fall their homes.
The fences crumbling
like dry crumbs of bread.
And years later,they return.
Those with the golden fleece
come with an arrogant streak.
Clad in suits and hats.
Muttering incoherencies from their mouth
Or was it their nose?
Disillusion evident in their "four eyes".
Wriggling out of their "below-par" Papa's
"peppering" embrace.
Those whose search plummeted
rush back to their roots
like bee to nectar.
Tears in their vanquished eyes.
They cling to their oldies
smelling the smell of home
with as much relief as finding an oasis.
Then,they are treated
to
a prodigal son's feast.
Pounded yam,goat head
and the likes.
Then,they ravish the lot
punctuating with
musical belches.
Then,they wallow in
the warmth
whilst singing
'home,sweet home'
For tomorrow,
work begins on
homefront
Categories:
fleece, africa,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The night calmly come
This erratic weather
Rarely that I glimpse
Any stars and the moon
Although like a peeping mode
Over the sky above I can see
The flickering golden fleece
Trying to hover me
I suddenly catch one
But the flicker so tender
Aloft wave goodbye
Alas, what have I done
To cause me alone in big trouble
I remember God, seek out His guide
The next day night…
Again the golden fleece come
This time a hundred twinkle amusing me!
Categories:
fleece, angst,
Form:
Free verse
Fleece of morning Light
Out from the shadows
of the night
A new morning
begins to take flight
On breezes of honeysuckle
scented shrouds
Across a sky adorned in
whimsical lacey clouds
The silence of slumber
breaks from a frown
Her vibrancy forces
the night to step down
Friction electrifies the
atmosphere with hues
Of a pastel brocade
in raised designs of blue
The morning air is like
a juicy succulent peach
Acres of buckwheat sway
as if trying to reach
A Jubilee occurs when
monarchs take to the air.
As a myriad of tulips,
color the day with flair
A sweet refrain plays
in the rustle of the trees
Peace chimes like crystal
in the wind to please
Ushering in a newly
born day from dawns loins
Her gold fingers grace
all life as priceless coins
Each morning is an exquisitely
prepared masterpiece
Made from heavens garden
covered by a golden fleece
Carole Cookie Arnold
2011
Categories:
fleece, inspirationalday, morning,
Form:
Rhyme
Gentle ripples float about his wheels,
searching inquisitive around spokes,
questioning apparent lack of motion,
now the little fish turn their backs
and swam back.
Eyes intrinsically profoundly fixated
on innermost thoughts, where loud
voices debate the time away in warm
orange evening glow, fleece quilt for
curious stars
Ears catch finest nuances in vibration
inside, the soft rumble ebbs into loud
roar of high tide and first waves leap
and lap at his numb feet with never
ceasing hunger
As if with sorrow, he pulls the rims
and wheels himself out, thoughts
collected and arranged in fluctuations
Undulations and arranged back into
working order
***
February 18, 2017
Categories:
fleece, beach, dark, depression, dream,
Form:
Prose Poetry
fleece trap
heat treated fluff
my lungs fill with the lovely stuff
strike fear into me
light the match with forefinger
and a wing of a bee
fire through my lungs
don't run let it be
smile while the blood runs
NO don't flee
laughter burnt flesh
lungs like torched fought
marshmallow mesh
do what you call caring
while you stand still staring
Categories:
fleece, death, life,
Form:
Rhyme
As the salvo to parry any blow
succumbs to a deserted battlefield;
what does a warrior do who doesn't know
the war is over and it's time to yield?
The gusto of engagement stirs the thrill
for one final conquest; one final kill!
That last valiant stand is more grave to keep
than slowly wane supine among the sheep.
I canvassed the landscape for upheaval
that needed my sacred call to duty,
but witnessed a warm, sanguine primeval
extolling the virtues of grace and beauty!
The boredom from this unruffled assault;
the pallor of repose leaves who at fault?
If victory (or loss) conclude the fight,
why end the battle that makes war so trite?
I cry, “Is there a battle needing fought”?
The notion is pensive:
the struggle likely for naught.
A worthy offensive
will all the same
bring me no shame!
My Casus Belli is against this peace:
war IS the answer; and ultimate fleece!
Casus Belli
: an event or action that justifies or allegedly justifies a war or conflict
Categories:
fleece, warwar, war, engagement,
Form:
Verse
Weepers with hoods —
tear-stained, faceless.
Dirge monks with shields.
Knight of the golden fleece
on a slab in requiem.
The silent mouth of Cicero.
Fell in love with this funereal piece
— Tomb of Philippe Pot
with life-sized pleurants.
His hands steepled in prayer,
a lion in repose at his feet —
Grand Seneschal of Burgundy
9/28/2020
Tomb of Philippe Pot
Louvre Museum
Categories:
fleece, art, death,
Form:
Ekphrasis
The Golden Fleece
Today my wife and I went to look at an old people’s home,
the entrance looked hotel like and had a reception and
the girl who manned it wore a starched, white uniform.
She showed us around told us that every room double or
single had a shower and a tea kitchen and fridge.
And that we came to the main room where the patients sat,
sorry they are called guests; it was nice only no one spoke
people with open mouths sat watching telly and the air had
a feeling of despondency and a faint smell of urine.
Sometimes I feel like Jason’s old dog, it remembers his master
In my case my youth, but who is to take care of me now?
Categories:
fleece, angst, animal, good night,
Form:
Blank verse
Flickering sunbeams inking Autumn trees,
edge the leaves with ribbons of molten gold.
And raining confetti with every breeze;
leaves tumble to the ground as nights grow cold,
crafting crunchy mosaics to behold.
With rivulets of scarlet and cerise,
an ocean of color floods the landscape.
And as gilded leaves weave a golden fleece,
yellows get added to the ticker tape;
and Autumn's parade begins to take shape.
Crimson embers flare into orange flames;
incinerating all traces of green.
And living up to the hype Autumn claims;
chartreuse and Puce emerge onto the scene,
as the air smells earthy yet crisp and clean.
As Nature senses Winter's arrival,
songbirds fly south, and squirrels hide their stash.
While bears hibernate for their survival
amongst sugar maples and mountain ash;
where vermillion and amber motifs clash.
Categories:
fleece, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Quintain (English)