Best Ganders Poems

Upon the waters waiting still,, a scudding duck decends.!

Dragonflies hover over blossoms and leeches deep,
Geese shake their heads, as they are passing the fronded willows,...

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I accidentally let one loose
A ripe for roasting, fattened goose!
The ganders in Orwellian mode
Honked out the news in gaggled code.

Rash Farmer Giles, blood red with...

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Poet  -  ANJALI DENANDI ,MOM

           “   FOREVER  “
………………………………………………………
THE SUN GIFTS...

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A novice goose farmer named Sanders,
Once wrote for advice from Ann Landers.
He'd encountered a block
To increasing his flock:
He didn't know gooses from ganders....

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Let me begin by declaring
a well known cliche:
our skin does not define us,
nor does our place of birth
define our worth.

And yet we are scattered
across the...

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Ginny didn’t know if it was a large pond or a small lake in the middle of the beautiful park where she had been hired...

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A musing Mary, quite stationary
sitting with her laptop so still
thinks of limo cars, Broadway stars
and her dream house on the hill

Jill and Jack laid in...

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I rose for the summer, but for autumn I fall
Head first into oranges, reds, and yellows
Warm days and cool nights brace for winters call
A season...

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She lands on two hands with childlike innocence 
a sign of the world's forward reacceptance
Spreading her wings she brings us new hope 
Soon the flowers...

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My poem was about innocent hearts
    not purloined, perfumed farts
  'Twas about forever lingering kisses
     not everlasting,...

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Sarah Huckabee Sanders

Her mind performs tasks that are menial;
We never considered ever being congenial;
She slanders
Then ganders;
**** star belonging in colony that is penal.

Jim Horn...

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my eyeball knocks like a pendulum
against the keyhole socket
too close
too personal
the beating of my breath
against the wooden door
sweat seeps into its pores
as a lovely form...

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TO KNOW THE WHYS OF A COW 
IS TO KNOW WHY GOD CREATED MAN

A cow looks at the full moon standing on a sloping hillside
it...

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Wonderworks
by Michael R. Burch

History’s
mysteries
abound
& astound,
found
(profound)
the whole earth ’round,
even if mostly
underground.


The Procrastinator’s Creed
by Michael R. Burch

It’s always, “Tomorrow, I’ll do it.”
Work? I eschew it.
I never collect...

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