Best Gliders Poems
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
there are seven birds that I often get to see
as I walk on the tracks in pristine forestry,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
A Whipbird crack through ti-tree scrub,
a Lyrebird echo from Cascade Creek,
Red Browed Finch on the sword grass heads,
I’m watching close a Ground Thrush sneak.
Black Cockies feed on Blackwood wattle,
in heath Blue Wrens are a family,
Yellow Robins perch on a paperbark trunk
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
are seven mammals sometimes I get to see,
as I walk on the tracks in pristine forestry,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
Echidnas forage in wood or litter
Wallabies graze on grass and weeds,
a burrowing wombat sleeps all day;
high in a manna gum, a Koala feeds.
Sugar Gliders doze in a hollow log,
like Ring-tail Possums in a high ti-tree.
A Bandicoot scarps through the undergrowth
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
in Cascade Creek sometimes I get to see,
as I look at the water in pristine forestry,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
Flowing over sand, fishbone fern as cover,
lurk Blackfish and the Gippsland Cray.
Brown trout forage in the hiding place
where Mountain Galaxias are their prey.
In Cascade Creek; well the Platypus play,
in long deep holes, but are rare to see.
There’s Short Finned Eel, Yabbies and Shrimp,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
are a few reptiles I sometimes get to see,
if I look down at my feet in pristine forestry,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
There are Blue Tongue Lizards and Three Lined Skinks;
Goanna’s up a tree and the Tiger Snake.
There’s Copperheads or Red-bellied Black,
and treading on snakes is a big mistake.
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
Growling Grass Frogs watch from water grass,
And the ‘pobblebonk’ croak is an Eastern Banjo,
in a swampy pool as I walk on past.
Skippers float over the canopy blooms;
Mosquito, March Fly, Bush Fly blight;
Jezebel Caterpillars feed on mistletoe;
Stag Beetles hover in the fading light.
In one square mile, northeast of Noojee,
on walking tracks there is much to see,
where I’m just a link that don’t belong,
in one square mile, northeast of Noojee.
Categories:
gliders, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Dappled Winds
Phantom gliders in the sky rise at day
To rush the firmament on dappled winds,
Heaven’s piebald appaloosas at play,
Brindled tempests ruffle zephyr’s fringes
On stippled flurries in mistral tinges -
Flecks of dirges – the haunting calls of loons –
Laugh with ecstasy at mosaic breeze,
Born from the mottled rainbow’s pure cocoon,
In a dappled dance of impish teases.
2-11-22
Contest: D Forms - Dizain
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
gliders, wind,
Form:
Dizain
Some came by air
Some came by sea
They fought and died
So we could be free
The 6th of June 1944
Normandy a place in France
Operation Overlord or Neptune
Thousands took their last stance
Parachutists and gliders and
boats of all size
Thousands of soldiers met their demise
156,115 allied soldiers took part this way
75 years ago on D DAY
The beaches to name a few were called
Omaha, Utah, Juno and Sword
The largest allied beach invasion to date
So many died because of fate
10,500 allied casualties in one day
Fought for our freedom all I can say
Respect, hats of sir where it's due
I and others will remember you
REMEMBER RESPECT
Categories:
gliders, hero, history, military, remember,
Form:
Free verse
Flesh on show and sun tan lotion
bodies laid on towels or sun lounges
By the ocean
Salty air wind blown hair
Music streaming from the near by fair
Baby screaming nappies full
Cool guys looking for babes on the pull
Sun shades and floppy hats
Grown men playing cricket with ball and bats
Sand castles and buckets and spades
Candy floss and lemonade
Father With binoculars pretending to look out to sea
Or read a newspaper but really looking at the bathing beauties
Bikinis and manknies G strings tight where the sun don't shine
Hot dogs and hamburgers the popping of corks from bottles of wine
Hairy legs and wrinkled skin
child almost drowning couldn't swim
Muscle bound Life guards with muscles to impress
Granma lost her false teeth
Dropped between her breasts
Ice creams and summer dreams
Young child peeing in the sea
Among the swimmers splashing about with glee
People playing beach ball and football
Mother calls come on all it's time for tea
Large Busty woman running like jelly on a plate
Wobble wobble
And nearly starting an earthquake
Sand between your toes
Sun burn on your nose
Sweaty arm pits sweaty bums
Toffee apples and bleeding gums
Sea gulls flying screeching high above
Clear blue sky pure white dove
Watching the frothy waves stretch upon the shore
Watching the horizon and tiny boats 10 miles away or more
Dogs running here and there
Sweets being passed around to share
Crabs and shrimps and other critters in a rocky pool
Children with fishing nets and jars to take them back to school
Para gliders pulled by speed boats high in the sky
Oh why do people want to risk life
As they could die
Postcards to write people on there bikes
The smell of fish and chips
Children with jam around their lips
Couples walking hand in hand barefoot on warm sand
Treasured memories and photo's to cherish
Suitcases packed feeling unwound and relaxed
Can't wait until next year when they come back.
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. July.
Categories:
gliders, abuse, beach, fun, funny,
Form:
Free verse
SONG OF THE EVENING
In a lullaby song of the evening.
In the background a cricket sings,
corellas fly past, to their resting tree
high upon silhouette wings.
Red sky widens and covers the west
with half sun glowing and gold,
there’s stark contrast between heaven and earth
as life in a pondage unfold.
Bullfrog! Bullfrog! Clearing your throat,
reed warbler should be going to sleep.
‘Sweet pretty creature,’ call of willy wagtail
and crickets continue to cheep.
In a lullaby song of the evening,
new stars are beginning to shine,
plovers’ static call fills the growing dim sky
and the reed warbler's calling decline.
So when the changeover’s completed,
and day has now turned into night,
these lullaby songs of the evening,
are now hidden well out of sight.
Bullfrog! Bullfrog! Clearing your throat,
and crickets continue to cheep.
‘Sweet pretty creature,’ call of willy wagtail,
the ringtail awake from their sleep.
A red fox is yapping, then a mournful drawl,
the mopoke hoots steady and soft.
Radar pings in flight of the wattled bat
echo with it flying aloft.
A koala growls in the manna gum tops,
a sugar gliders’ stealing its space,
maned geese flying blind from dam to dam
moan ‘gnow’ for the night to embrace.
The lullaby song of the evening is dying,
where hunter and hunted exist,
for the art of survival is simply relying
on mute vigilance in their midst.
Bullfrog! Bullfrog! You are silent now,
reed warbler is sleeping at last.
Plovers’ are quiet, crickets no longer sing
the moon in a stillness drifts past.
Categories:
gliders, nature, peace, , Lullaby,
Form:
Rhyme
I: Sheep
(A poem about Covid)
next door to 19 chimneys
and 'the dark satanic mills'
a flock of sheep is grazing
oblivious in the hills.
II: Other Animals
(They do all exist!)
goblin sharks and pangolins
sea pigs, star-nosed moles
mata matas, sugar gliders
shoats and water voles.
aye-ayes, dik-diks, wobbegongs
chicken turtles, loons
shoebills, snipes and yeti crabs
and cozumel raccoons.
pink fairy armadillos
bilbys, 52-hertz whales
the red-lipped batfish, panda ants
and emperor helmet snails.
the pleasing fungus beetles, thrips
hellbenders, great potoos
lilac breasted rollers, bongos
glass frogs, kinkajous.
boobies, fried egg jellyfish
happy wrens and teals
sarcastic fringe heads, cock-tailed tyrants
shags, electric eels.
johnny cash tarantulas
slevin's emo skinks
hanging thieves, agra cadabras
turbo shrews and minks.
the mediterranean shame-faced crabs
dugongs, gangly lancers
jesus lizards, pistol shrimps
fossas, spanish dancers.
the rare long-wattled umbrellabirds
chubs and munchkin cats
satanic leaf-tailed geckos, shads
gars, nits and fancy rats.
Categories:
gliders, allegory, animal, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
Summer sight
Ripples of the river, in addition, current of the slope
And canoe's shake, ahead lover's smiley face
Foam like milky run, sprinkles of icy flakes
Scatters of cold drops, and sprinters of river's
Funniest on earth I was the monarch in the moment
Greenery of the bank, chirps of the birds
Fisherman's' net in cold water, hung baits in the strings
Livelihood for life how to celebrate remembering events.
Different case, separate face, writing poems in open space
Blue water on wade, ship's glade on that, mind blowing taste
Different tongues, hands on waists, berets on heads
Blue pace on space, thin white rope of jetliner's trace
On sky, blue ocean far and wide no boundary limitless
Lines of poetry were heading on, no wish for ends
Far from bank, in mid of sea, a bird on mast how it came!
Patches of clouds, below of sun, seems gliders from heaven
Smiling face, touched my heart, as bliss landed from heaven
Response from there, dignified the heart, add more line of poem
In one corner, the day of summer, a sight of humor was on
Two shadows of beau and lassie,was erecting as if pillar one
Drawing eyes of gentlemen and ladies inadvertently to them
The day was bright, guys in that, imbibing fun of summer season
Dance of sharks, delights of dolphins, far in sea reminisce remained.
Categories:
gliders, blue, fun, love, poems,
Form:
Blank verse
28th &29th March 2012.
Sandy saunter through virgin sands,
The trudging pathways lead me to beach lands.
Cam a red nude peeped under a Mac,
Slight drizzle from the clouds, into the coco nut grove I move, on the hammock to lie aback.
Blue carpets waves silently lie await to gala regattas,
Satan oscillates my metallic sonatas.
Beneath the tepid and warm waters lie melodies churned,
Now on whipped and agitated waters surf frothy strains upturned.
White virgin sands lie dormant and waiting,
Bright sands looks like satin spread , love making.
Waiting and dormant lie sands virgin white,
Making love ,spread satin like, looks sand bright.
Water gliders and surfers , the sandy shores they crowd,
Skills and mind thrills by practice they are now richly endowed.
Ah Satan sees Natasha,
They are all competing Asha, Natasha, Trasha and handsome Pasha
PALINDROMES
Cam a red nude peeped under a Mac,
Satan oscillates my metallic sonatas
White virgin sands lie dormant and waiting,
Bright sands looks like satin spread , love making.
Ah Satan sees Natasha
By: Sashi .Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Categories:
gliders, nature, passion, sea, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Canary yellow flowers herald in the spring.
So bold are we sitting in sea of green.
Most grown-ups look at us as weeds.
They pluck, dig, spray and mow with limited success.
The curse, when our yellow flowers turn fluffy white.
We have many seed gliders attached to our white heads,
Just waiting for the wind to blow our seeds, setting us all free.
Assaulting from the air, not caring where we land,
Settling in the soil and waiting for our germination to begin.
Remember when-
Dandelions were the flowers of your youth.
An act of playfulness, gingerly you picked our stalks,
And blew our fluffy white heads high up in the air-
In one breath was your goal,
Then watched our white swirls dance upon the wind.
So next time you pass by our fluffy white heads,
Become a child once more and blow.
For Sandy Ivy D's contest, "Seeds"
Categories:
gliders, nature, yellow,
Form:
Free verse
Beachfront condos shrouded in the early mist
of morning. Seagulls hanging on the breeze,
their screeching waking sleepyheads
before their coffee, it's July the 4th,
the holiday is here!
Sailboats daubed in milky opalescence
growing clear, as sunlight nibbles at the sea wall.
Artists set their easels, hot dog vendors
primed and waiting, T-shirt boutiques
ready for the avalanche.
Parking-lots are full, it's getting hot now.
Suntanned beauties modeling string bikinis
scramble for position.
"Let's get the best spot on the beach!"
they cry, toting towels and frisbees to the sand.
Flags and beer are peddled in profusion,
smells of barbecue and pizza fill the air.
Suntan oil for those who need it,
all those fair-skinned redheads seeking
rest and refuge from the blazing sun.
Painters competing for the famed Grand Prize,
trying to catch the essence of the ocean.
Could be the next Monet! Muted pastels
smeared on canvas. Hold on, Claude,
you'd best not give up your day job!
Para-gliders soar in gay abandon,
floating through the sky like eagles hovering
they lay it on the line. You ask me,
it's sheer recklessness,
all those crazy people cheating gravity!
Musicians making ready for the concert,
violins and tubas tuning up.
People find their beach chairs
and get comfortable to listen
to the melodies of vintage Broadway songs.
And then the fireworks - woosh, boom, crackle! -
shock the heavens with their iridescent light.
'The Star-Spangled Banner.' Couples cuddle
up in blankets to watch the rockets
paint the sky 'Red, White and Blue!'
They make their way contented to their cars,
young and old alike loved the festivities.
Stop to get some Rolaids, (too much pizza,
fun and frolic!) but the day will last forever
in their memories.
Categories:
gliders, holiday,
Form:
Verse
I look across the rays of morning sun,
The roosting birds first day flight has begun,
They soar up high and swoop and swirl as one.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
My gaze lifts to where the air is colder
And thick clouds drift o’er the mountain’s shoulder.
In Cape Town, Table Mountain is white caped,
With cloth like clouds it is mistily draped,
The neighbouring peak is lion head shaped.
Signal Hill’s resident wind gives a lift
To the Para gliders who take off, drift.
All give my camera a morning gift.
Categories:
gliders, africa, beauty, bird, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
Eternal love is considerate, in its presence ~ gliders grace with elegance—Poet
All true and deep love is a sacrifice—Carl Jung
*
As winter’s snow drifts upon the meadows
I await the thaw, *
and the caw of the cockatoo
perched on the magnolia tree branch
White icy avalanche melting, *
nourishing the soil ‘neath the brittle bush
*
As the first cherry blossom blooms
An umbra of blushing pink
A white parrot whistles his tunes
Spring dissipates dark ink laden clouds
Left behind are the remnants
of snow squall shrouds, *
*
Fall's
* cascading
eminence
*
A new moon dawns
To defy autumnal of March
would be to deny
the swans of their elegant arch
Of their everlasting love
for each other, fidelities peace
As peaceful as the dove,
As loyal as geese
*
They roam, lead bird navigator,
social dominance his experience
Holds sway as an avian aviator
Riverboat pilot steering the helm
Like the migratory birds with no homes
find comfort on the majestic elm
In serene and bluest of skies
flocks fly in V forms *
Trailing birds ride an updraft effortlessly
glide along the breeze
While other birds fly aimlessly
Swanning over the hillside with ease
*
Gliding above the oceanside
are the seagulls without any destination
Robins let their tails
just brush the ground
To spat isn’t the mountain quail’s thing
Just charming chit chat *
Or a love song he’ll sing
The parrot in the cherry blossom tree
Elegant, considerate feathered friend so free
The whole world belongs to you
In warmer weathered early Spring
Categories:
gliders, bird, love, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
“Where do you come from?” is a query, that most of us have heard
And the answers that are given range from honest to absurd
“My mother” might be appropriate , if a jerk you want to be
But past contrite; the question, still holds ambiguity
What does the poser need to know to complete this obscure tome
Where was I born? Where did I grow up? or Where do I call home?
American by birth, and raised in the hills of the empire state
On the outskirts of an unrenowned town, with Horseheads on the gate
Fond memories of autumns, filled with crimson leaves and cider
Of football games, cold crisp air and watching wind blown gliders
Then the Air Force came a calling and promised I’d see the world
First to St. Louis’ Arch, then across the Atlantic I was hurled
The land I found was green year round, and not too hot or cold
The cobbled village streets, reminds of a Dickens’ tale; told
was here I met and married an English Rose, unplanned
And thought to raise a family in this green and fertile land
With view of ancient parish and beside a Roman road
We found a place that fit our needs and where we could grow old
That did not work out near as well we had hoped
Several years working abroad and the passion had eloped
The rose that I had married turned more thorn than sweet
On the internet I found the one that’s meant for me
Ten years in and still abroad; but, this time, with love
Spending time together with sunny skies above
Abu Dhabi’s sandy dunes have become our new playground
Spending desert weekends camping with no one else around
The stars become our ceiling, a fire to warm our toes
Listening to the silence of nature’s sweet repose
So this is where we call home and where we say we’re from
At least until the next move, but we’ll take that as it comes…..
Categories:
gliders, family, home, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
Imagine a world if they made it first
Their want to dominate would continue to thirst
Heavy Water to be their goal
More innocent lives, more lost souls
The German want for Nuclear Arms
Brought them to, Telemark's charms
A county in scenic south Norway
If they achieve the world will pray
1942, at Vemork Power Station
Scientist boffins on the road to creation
Allied forces, intelligence heard
Sabotage on the tongue is the word
November 1942 Operation Freshman starts
The 1st British Airborne
From Wick, Scotland they part
Destination Møsvatn - frozen lake
Where hero's will land
For the worlds sake
But tragedy hits, the gliders crash land
Soldiers captured, now with German command
Gestapo interrogate these fathers and sons
On Hitlers Order
Machine gunned
Operation Swallow and Gunnerside
Norwegian and British commando pride
Take on this mission to destroy this plant
If they fail, they face German rant
Production impeded as they make their escape
To Ski to safety and dodge their drape
A decision is made to bomb the plant
143 B-17's, as many bombs grant
Many fail, to hit their mark
This Heavy Water terror in Telemark
Damage is little as the Germans act
Shipped back to Germany by boat and rail track
On February 20th 1944
The ferry ship SF Hydro is at the fore
Her laid-en cargo in railed tanks
By the grace of god, about to be sunk
Plastic explosive, alarm clocks
Ignite together as the Hydro rocks
As her Stern sinks, the tanks roll
Into the fjord, jeopardise German goal
All hero's they are to risk their lives
As this conflict of history
Is told from their eyes
To sabotage this plant and its Holy Water
And saved the world from Ultimate Slaughter
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Categories:
gliders, history, warworld, water, water,
Form:
Rhyme
A cat attempting a headstand is akin to a gridlocked caterpillar visiting an air show of duck aero gliders. Aero gliders are neither glimpsing nor glimmering but glimmering could often be mistaken for a cider walking mildew headed bullock whose field antics were superfluous in the season of dun dun dun. But a dun dun dun is neither a worry nor a weasel waiting. Weasels wisely waiting wanting winning ways. And a dish of cloud is served on a rock to a cup of salt water lake spray. Lovely. And how very kind. It is to be assumed that there are a significant amount of ever increasing formations of swamps and strips of sunlit streams. Uninvited are the dwellers of infrastructure whose intelligence only works in a money bag with five golden balls. Interesting that isn't it? Now count to 48395839682058209589285938569025893 96038591958506969695958692058406830 594069305839583069305830583959 and then climb up and up and up the side of a cup using a sturdy ladder that extends beyond the houses. Ok then. Eat a spoon of rice and sit down. Oh look a carriage is catching a chubby carthorse today! Oh no a wardrobe has collapsed after attempting to juggle socks while jumping on a pogo stick. Xxxx meteorologist z z z z z z at forty five sprouts with ten foot wings soaring over eggplant and avocado bake with nine purple goldfish in a six inch tank. Z
Categories:
gliders, analogy,
Form: