Best Fleeces Poems

Biting winds and swirling flakes of snow had finally abated

We surveyed the deep drifts, which lay on the fields
The silvery moon peeped through the clouds and lit our way
It was bitterly cold, but the pitiful sound of bleating spurred us on
Some friends and neighbours had...

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Seasons

With a chill still in the wind, spring arrives
Clutching her white coat that slowly melts
In Sun's warmth, coaxing blossom's birth.

Humidity heavy with the scent of Jasmine
Announces summer's steamy footsteps
As ripe strawberries share sweet savors.

A harvest moon greets lovely autumn, smiling,
When her frosty breath changes verdant...

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A swallow swoops for flitting flies
While Johnny rubs exhausted eyes
(As morning clasps the rising sun)
Confirming Captain’s day’s begun:
Slow streams emerge from melting snows -
The Merchant Ship’s in stark repose...

As Johnny frets with tingling tongue
A Vulture fleeces fields far-flung
 (Beneath a bleeding sun above),
And Captain culls...

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Earth dwelling mongeese are neither toys nor coins and pedalling backwards then forward is not considered the primary way of jet propulsion off a very high hill. So one two ping means fried rice coming? How long for? Will it rest a while? On a...

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A young man bought a tight pair of fleeces,

 And their stranglehold filled all the creases,

But the fit was so thin

 That he couldn't begin

     To pump blood to his bits ... and his pieces.


     Well, they...

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Rejection
a roundel by Geoffrey Chaucer
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your beauty from your heart has so erased
Pity, that it's useless to complain;
For Pride now holds your mercy by a chain.

I'm guiltless, yet my sentence has been passed.
I tell you truly, needless now to feign:
Your beauty...

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A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast
Against a dry stone wall on a windy hill
She cradles it with love so truly blessed

Over steep Welsh hills they roam best
Hardy hill sheep bred to wander at will  
A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast

Long...

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Various Heresies 2

You
by Michael R. Burch

For thirty years You have not spoken to me;
I heard the dull hollow echo of silence
as though strange communion between us.

For thirty years You would not open to me;
You remained closed, hard and tense,
like a clenched fist.

For thirty years You...

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Medieval Poem V

A Proverb from Winfred's Time
anonymous Old English poem, circa 757-786
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
The procrastinator puts off purpose,
never initiates anything marvelous,
never succeeds, and dies alone.

2.
The late-deed-doer delays glory-striving,
never indulges daring dreams,
never succeeds, and dies alone.

3.
Often the deed-dodger avoids ventures,
never succeeds, and dies...

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Penny dropped circular clocks on carved out emblematic wisdom cones. Be careful if it rains coal dust as radioactive drones, mobile phones, and teapots too could all gather to form lines of imperialism. How rather interesting it is to count the snot flung out of...

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Through the sea of timeless beauty
swaying heads of flaxen gold
whispered kiss of prairie breezes
under globes of blue bird oceans
sailing ships are floating fleeces
in this vast and timeless world
lie me down neath Apollo's splender
let me warm my troubled soul.....

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Enough!
by Michael R. Burch

It’s not that I don’t want to die;
I shall be glad to go.
Enough of diabetes pie,
and eating sickly crow!
Enough of win and place and show.
Enough of endless woe!

Enough of suffering and vice!
I’ve said it once;
I’ll say it twice:
I shall be glad to...

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Sleeping in the night
Haunted by fears
Hiding myself from this terrible sight
Searching for the healing light

A spark attracts my attention
An angel comes to me
“”Hey! Am drowning in your eyes”
Please save me
And then you whispered in my ears
“Where you lost???”

I took you to the meadows
Then to the...

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At thirty-five imperial gallons
Or one hundred fifty-nine liters
Match a barrel of crude
Which every day, millions you export
To the disappointment of all others
Fellow citizens, to whom your gluttony assaults

Still, to Mother Nature
We should be grateful
Despite much energy resource
With which they generate poverty
And all sorts of mistreatment

Each...

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Spring is coming soon  - and thank the Lord!
Resplendent blossoms renovate each tree.
It cannot get here quick enough for me,
Nor does it linger long. The shining sward
Gleams, garlanded with daisies.  Every pond
Is laced with life!  I love to see the spawn,
Surmising that...

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