Best Forages Poems
He lays there in his own world
Living on memories of the past
life as it is now, is just existing,
memories, are remembered at last
No longer knows who I am
looking at me so scared.
As though I would do him harm
as I gently, help him feed
I know he remembers that I love him
when he forages within his heart’s pages
the word love, carved forever, by his little girl,
Even when he is in his rage, stages.*
Penned 15 October 2016
*the ravages of Altzheimer's Disease......living in the past....in a life full of stages.
Categories:
forages, confusion, life,
Form:
Verse
Sacred Lake Titicaca
High atop the Andes, between Bolivia and Peru,
sits the birthplace of the Incas, sacred Lake Titicaca.
A powerhouse of nature through and through,
it was created by the Inca god of the lake, Viracocha.
A treetop view showcases unique flora and fauna that abound,
from llamas to fresh water snails dozing in the sun;
rainbow trout and other colorful fish are found
as sunlight reflects golden on the lake’s horizon.
Flocks of snowy egrets among the rare totora reed
share this natural habitat with slate-gray Andean coots,
snowy egrets, and white-tufted grebes diving for feed,
while parrots scratch their heads perched on mangrove roots.
Sounds of nature overcome the silence of twilight,
as huge water frogs on lily pads croak their lullabies.
The black-crowned night heron forages in the dying light,
and gloomy catfish float underground for a tasty prize.
Incas believed that when their time on earth was done,
the mystical clear blue water was a portal to the stars,
and into the depths of Titicaca, their spirits would return,
to reunite with their gods and venerable ancestors.
05-25-2017
Categories:
forages, beauty, mountains, nature, water,
Form:
Rhyme
In bed looking out my window... (sighs)
up at the moon with leaden eyes
approaching bleak scarlet skies
dawns spell prompt to arise.
Fawn forages prize
roses, surprise
at moms cries,
it shies,
flies.
11/2/2019
Poetry Contest: Rhyming Nonet
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Categories:
forages, rose,
Form:
Nonet
As he wears his golden crown
He forages frantically.
The goldcrest alights, he touches down.
He wears his crown magnitoquently.
"Fee hee hee" he chirps rapidly
A spider, the goldcrest consumed;
From its web he had plucked it away.
His excited search for food then resumed,
He must eat to survive another day.
The diminutive bird hopped from bough to bough
In search for food he scoured the tree.
His search of the tree was thorough
and fruitful;he had enough to eat.
"Fee hee hee" he sang satisfied
Next, the bird went to the forest floor.
Surrounded by altitudinous conifers,
He noticed on the ground were insects galore
which he closely monitored.
The beetles and earwigs and ants and lice
were building and crawling and swarming.
The goldcrest once and twice and thrice
swallowed an ant with no warning.
"Fee hee hee" no more did he hunger;
His body was warming
"Fee hee hee" he sang from the tree
as he sat on a prominent perch.
So much the little bird could see
from the top of the high-reaching larch.
As dusk fell, he remained on the plant;
He listened to the woodpigeons croon.
The very next day he would feast on more ants
........He drifted off into a sloom
By Sean Martin-Byrne
Categories:
forages, bird, insect, nature, onomatopoeia,
Form:
Ballad
bitter snow blizzard
winter winds whisper warnings ~
snowshoe hare forages
( this poem on PS syllable counter is 17 syllables and 18 on howmanysyllables.com. I posted it as is due to the imagery that it captures. Just a disclaimer since this has been brought to my attention.)
Categories:
forages, nature, winter,
Form:
Haiku
Once two hearts entwined into one
Body and soul drunken embrace fusion
Sunshine and starry skies we couldn't ignore
On wings we use to soar
Fly forever and never fly away
Love I thought would always stay
A desire to rekindle the drop of love left
Dry the river of tears I have shed
Under my skin sweet whisper
Yearns, but also forages anger
Though reclusive, in my solitude
Escape is an illusion to elude
Quivering rumbles feelings of disquietude
Our soul’s no longer entwined, but brewed
This journey has ended, it’s time to say goodbye
2/9/2016
Poetry Contest: Entwined
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Categories:
forages, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
There is such a beauty in d e c a y i n g flowers,
charm, allure and splendor in summer showers.
Murmuring in the fields and my drooping garden,
oh, a sweet melody of u t t e r total abandon.
Lovely, my horse forages in a meadow of yarrow,
soon these fields will be snow covered, oh sorrow.
Yet, there is a deep tranquility in changing leaves,
gold, red and yellow s t o l e n by wind thieves.
And that first perfect snowflake of l a c e filigree,
cold, crisp- me and my horse will fly with jubilee.
But, although the flowers are fading- crumbling,
there is time for delicate summer blooms tumbling.
Today, I found within my sad garden, a r e d rose,
it made me w e e p that soon summer will repose.
____________________________
August 22, 2016
Poetry/Couplet/Fading Summer
Copyright Protected, ID 16-822-281-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Categories:
forages, nature,
Form:
Couplet
Remission
The living soft redwoods rose up into the furthest skies
Rough dark brown and grey pines stood like warriors nearby
The roads are always wrapped in blue and gray mist
as large lumbering trucks and black Suvs swing by
A young deer from the forest forages for cones
old jazz filters over the bay and hills in a sorrowful sigh
We moved from the highway back into the tall mountain road
with its forests and blue birds singing in a curulean sky
Gone are the parking lots, the hospital glass windows
uniformed people pacing the buildings 7 feet high
Gone are rubbery gloves held in doctors' hands
nurses in masks using Purcell over and over again.
The smell of the Eucalyptus, the grasses, the pines
a place living without masks, needles and antibiotic lines
life again with rosemary, hummingbirds and thyme.
Categories:
forages, happiness, health, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Humans not meant to dwell in caves
Drowned out,
No inherited inhabitants
Mother black bear's in rage
suckling on the land of mass construction
Dry and toxic is it's tit
Oh no more!
No natural function
Seduced seducing men mock
Abyssal in spirit!
Is this the choice of your decision?
Idly dragging you down
Can you hear it?
Tick tock!
To you, I give this vision
Stanza 2
Humans not meant to dwell in caves
Drowned out,
No inherited inhabitants
Mother black bear's in rage
While dancing with the devil
Did he place your feet upon the truth?
Did he tell you..
'Dance!' 'advance!'
To this evolution, my envious booth!
Hanging on the doors , the walls, no sanity to crave
Cleaned out,
beheaded!
Mother black bear died in vain
Stanza 3
Humans not meant to dwell in caves
Drowned out,
No inherited inhabitants
Mother black bear's spirit of rage!
They claim we came from monkeys
Starting of dwelling in caves!
Satan twisted the truth
But it seems you'll die this way!
Humans not meant to dwell in caves
I'll burn you out!
Inherit the Inheritance of truth
The mother black bear of flames!
As a Native American symbol, the bear is as free in spirit as the great wind; and grander than its mass. To match that magnitude is the quality of unpredictability in the bear. A massive animal who forages seemingly peacefully in the woods on berries and bush. when provoked in certain ways, the First Peoples witnessed a ferocity expressed from the bear that (understandably) could elicited terror.
Because of this potentially furious storm brewing just under the surface of bears spirit, our native forebears were extremely cautious and respectful of this animal. Even tribes inclined to peace honored the spirit of a warrior, and witnessing the bear seemed to embody that kind of blind, powerful surge of courage and strength that every warrior is want to tap into.
Bear meanings were enhanced by observations made tribal sages. These vital tribal figures were inclined to pensive and deeper understanding of how nature communicated intent in all her forms. These sages found connections between human and beast and from these associations would interpret profound meanings that propelled the community into direction, action, and wisdom.
Categories:
forages, abuse, animal, humanity, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
My Carolyn and I, on Plymouth Hoe we stand
To leave this shire of Devon, to far distant lands
Our desire to leave, and this change in our lives
There's a future out there, for me and my new wife
As I look down on the harbour, at these ships of grand
To be honoured and trusted, my voyage of command
Tomorrow we sail, to the South Seas and beyond
My crew and I, in dutiful naval respond
Even before we set sail, a hurricane did brew
At first we met calm seas, if only we knew
For as we headed south, Atlantic waters churned
Yet still my Highlander's passion in my heart burned
A tsunami grew on the eastern horizon
Would we reach our Caribbean island?
The huge water mass approached and toppled our ship
But James' strong arms ensured that we remained adrift
Tossed and battered, in the midst of her rage
Spewed onto the shore, our bodies and sands engage
Weathered and ashen, we arise in the sun
Deserted and beached, a new day has begun
We view our surrounds, in search of a haven
To collect our thoughts, now in survival craving
It's been many weeks, as we have formed an alliance
Our deserted island called home, in total compliance
A thatched roof he has crafted, shelter from the storms
On this palm-filled beach, two survivors are born
My sweet Highlander climbs and shakes coconuts free
He forages through jungles, brings meat to me
I crafted a spear and have caught many a fish
Whatever I cook, he says it's his favorite dish
When falling sun brings colorful skies, we cuddle
We embrace where nature's other creatures huddle
It's been many many years, on this island of ours
Living with nature, our most wonderful neighbours
We awoke one morning, to see a ship offshore
I turned to my Carolyn, with emotions galore
Do we stay here in paradise, or leave for new lands
It's what we intended, being deserted was not planned
Our signals in tune, we declare to prepare
What we have learnt here, the world needs to share
Categories:
forages, adventure, love, natural disasters
Form:
planting
the staple of life
new beginnings
seedlings
nurtured by natures flow
future hopes
nestling
in the loam and water
sustenance
farmers
weeding the paddies
a crane forages
greens arise
to greet morning rays
honking geese
thrashing
out tiny grains
happy tummies
Categories:
forages, environment, flower, garden, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Candy Cotton Sky.
.
Snow white wisps of cotton candy
Patches of vivid blue peeking through
The yarning sun awoken by joyful pleasant bird song
As a gentle warming breeze Stirs the pretty flowers
Kissed by moisten droplets of clinging dew
.
The May thorn displays wedding gown
Scattered confetti proliferates the ground
Tendril blooms open their hearts
Releasing they’re fragrant perfume
Wafting through bejewelled meadow
And varied thicket
After the sun has pushed away
The sleepy moon
.
Dappled mottled paper winged ladies
Dance a colour flashing
Delicate ballet
As the perky blackbird forages
And field mice venture from they’re cosy nest
In field and hay
.
The expanding day breathes afresh
The lush evergreen abounds as gems
From creations open treasure chest.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Categories:
forages, appreciation, creation, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Hither, Hi, Ho, Fairies Down Below
Hither, hi, ho, fairies down below.
They flit, they flee, from bush to tree,
Flying swiftly, leaping lightly,
Chattering, tinkling, always sprightly.
By day they can laugh and play.
But at night comes worry and fright.
As the gloaming swallows up the sun
It is the end of frollicks and fun.
For out come the snargles,
All piggish and smelly,
Gnashing dribbly fangs,
Tummies wobbling like jelly.
Their homeland was razed,
So they’ve moved to the woods
And discovered that fairies
Taste, ‘Oh, so good!’
Snargles snort and roam all night,
So all the fairies must take flight.
They try to hide, to not be found.
They’ve built a city underground.
And a clever healer, a fairy magician,
Has discovered the spell for which they’d been wishing.
The only problem is that it needs
A rare night flower with luminescent seeds.
Two brave fairies called Silva and Jet
Take on the toughest mission yet:
To fly to the bog where the snargles live,
And collect the flowers that the potion needs.
On a wild and stormy eve
Jet and Silva fly ‘pon the breeze.
They are disguised by cloaks of leaves
To hide at speed amongst the trees.
They flit, they flee, from bush to tree,
But watching before leaping, silently.
Until the stormy winds blow high
Just as a snargle forages by.
Poor Jet gets blown from her log
Into the smelly, sticky bog.
Silva leaps in his leafy disguise
And covers her from the snargle’s eyes.
And next to them, growing right there,
Are the tiniest flowers with seeds so rare.
Are they the flowers that they seek?
Yes! They take them and neither speak.
They quietly, carefully return home.
The spell is made- relief has come.
And now the fairies we will never see,
For they have a potion of invisibility!
copyright Emily Joshua
Categories:
forages, cute, fairy, fantasy, magic,
Form:
Verse
Forrest forever worked full-time in the forest,
forgetting his fast food which was not so fabulous,
foraging for forest food not his forte,
finally fishing till the fish fought and got away,
Forrest was not exactly having a field day,
frantic and fuming and feeling foolish,
he foraged for food in his ford and came up with,
foul smelling fuzzy french fries from February,
famished he ate the frightful foul fries anyway.
Forrest the forest ranger forages for food in his ford.
10-31-16
Categories:
forages, food, humor, work,
Form:
Light Verse
Two souls bound together,
Withheld a world apart,
No leather strap or tether,
Yet, a single tear from the smart.
Two streams flowing to a river,
Gently trickling away,
Eroding with tantric shiver,
Silently cutting the glacier away.
Two clocks quietly ticking past,
Arms never in the same place,
Souls that bond, strengthening fast,
Fused closer still upon meeting face.
Two birds. One needs to take flight,
Rare songbird edges from stale nest,
Flightless avian forages at ground height,
Quietly chirping. Shall do my very best.
Two eyes gazing through the damp fog,
Endless smile that catches the sun,
Fearless avian emerges from log,
Curiosity. Need an assist Hun?
Two distant views of desired life,
Separate, yet each is the same,
Emptiness, torture, sorrow & strife,
Fates destiny on either plane.
Two voices echo through thick forest,
So many prints with curious clicks,
Drifting between, amour’s mist,
Restrained flight, wings clipped.
Two era-torn lovers cast into a spell,
Absence in time bonding stronger still,
Each plans to escape their own private hell,
Desire to restrain, at sublime free will.
(c) 2016 PJ Bayliss
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Categories:
forages, desire, lust,
Form:
Quatrain