Best Herons Poems
Grim fog, I praise the shelter of your drear,
the sundown ghost morose not grandiose,
I walk alone - but, no -- with my despair;
a bittern bids a bitter adiós.
The breakers so in agony they gnash
and gnaw the strand with thrash of foamy green,
the tempest witch brings ironfisted lash
alas, the eye-of-storm epiphany unseen.
Free, free! The tern who flies in Gemini
above beloved peak and shore and wave,
sun-painted wings, away you went -- so spry,
so fierce! Bluebird pierced and buried in your grave,
..and the stars understand; a fateful fall into the sea --
Damn the deep! It’s jostle docile.. my scream to meet the scree!
Susan Ashley
June 29, 2021
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mille 11
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Contemporary Sonnet
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
*bittern: any of several tawny brown herons
*scree: an accumulation of weathered rock fragments at the foot of a cliff
*a Modern / Contemporary Sonnet is a poem of 14 lines addressing any theme of the poet's choosing. It does not need to adhere to any set rhyme scheme, syllable count or meter, nor does it need to include a volta. The only true requirement of a modern sonnet is that it consists of 14 lines*
A hot and humid day floats merrily on the seas
As tiny bikinis amble in sandy footprints
And frolic in the motives of soft ocean breeze
Building sand-castle dreams with playful hints
Hazy hues occupy the environs of a blue sky
As pouring rains flood the tapestry on the arc
When hurriedly blue herons lift-up and fly
Escaping before the flash of a thunderous spark
In a floral garden tempt lavender intimations
Where nearing their beehives honeybees swarm
Skipping the ambiance of fiery red carnations
Subdued by sudden outburst of a fleeting storm
Above the horizon now rainbow colors sprout
Glorifying the moodiness of this season's reign--
Gloominess takes its place when sun opts out
As sunshine comes and goes, and so does the rain
The long day cedes to evening, buzzing in the park
And there by the sidewalks pink rose-blooms sway
Charmed by the bird songs in mating calls of lark
As sunset paints ruby tinges upon a golden display
May 12, 2019
HM: Your choice contest by Brian Strand
written on time’s page
with finite syllables of dust
he spelled my heritage
from earth to sky
along an umbilical line of faith
we fluttered from the lips of fingers
fully form for purpose
written on an invisible calculus
that bring monarchs where birth mark lingers
and salmons somersaulting sluice and streams
turtles, penguins, and herons white wings
netted in design with nested tabula rasa mind
I have an argument
against the beginning begotten from a bang
before atom or element
I have an argument against force and natural laws
at work without mass or embodiment
for embryonic gravity or forces weak or strong
I have an argument
that the singularity could not become more than fragment
of energy again if a single atom explode
its forces flocking away from fusion
for energy fission to explode
a theory
flimsy as spiders web
dethroning my majesty gulped
in primeval slime unlinked history from love
minimizing the particular time of our becoming on ships
that met the stagnant eyes of swampy thoughts … shuddering
in vain
the whip cracks louder than pain -
and on our black blistered backs … crumbling
soils in desertification threw some syllables skywards for mercy
starvation winds with sickle clouds of rain
they lie again ... leaving us without inheritance
for all our labors, lost, and grievance
what bang can buck the strain
and bring us broken souls to glory again?
the full moon dangles low tonight
and whispers sweetly in my ear
memories of fiery delight
the full moon dangles low tonight
graceful herons glide in full flight
I’d trade them all to hold you near
the full moon dangles low tonight
and whispers sweetly in my ear
AP: 1st place 2020
Submitted on November 15, 2018 for contest LATE NOVEMBER sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
i was a frog who wanted to be king
until i realized i couldn't even sing
a songbird shrilled
"you're only a croaker out of tune"
still i stood on my stump with a tortured smile
croaking my heart out all the while
i dreamed of being a stand-up crooner
a swamp-side sinatra maybe a little sooner
the crickets laughed
the herons one-legged stared
every fragile dream i swallowed
sat inside me
broken and unprepared
the wart-filled toad spat from his lily pad
"you’re stretching your skin boy
settle into the scum"
i carried an empty pond inside
where a thousand thorny dreams went to die
the audience left
the moon went home
a cold blue screen spit its light onto the scum
unthinking
no one returned my croak
i died a little every time i tried
my face looked back from the pond
mud-covered
wart-covered
ugly
my reflection looked away
all it could do was cry
today the water settled
the mud claimed the surface
when i looked down
there wasn’t even a frog
left to die
rainbow archway dips
windswept foliage embrace~
wading white herons
12/5/2023
A pond sits in the glen
bright fish dashing about
casting silvery shadows
ducks chasing after them
eels making their way to sea
flying birds circling back and forth
green frogs croaking for a mate
herons gobbling them up
in the depths a pike floats
jutting out its pointed head
keeping hidden as it prowls
lurking between the rotting logs
minnows swim by unharmed in shoals
newts eagerly snapping them up
out in the reeds lays up a catfish
playing dead it patiently waits
quick to react to its prey
reaping the bounties little fry snack
sticklebacks swim lazily through reed beds
trout leaping catching fly's and midgets
under the calm waters life abounds
vivid rainbow trout spawn
while the blue waters thrive
xanthine filled plants floating
yellowfin cutthroat trout dart by and
zander perch fill a fisherman's net
Upon these placid waters the wind blows fair,
bream chase waves tossed by boats here, and there,
Crimson vessels slice through crest,
giving channel cats time to rest,
Blue herons walk along picking through perch nest,
murmuring bull frogs make their best rain calls,
Some white owl makes nightly squalls,
using nothing more than stars to light his way,
Mystical mighty cypress trees sway big, and tall,
they too seem to have something to say to all...
For contest 179
Swamps are like places where dinosaurs roam
shadowed by ancient moss-draped trees.
A prehistoric world in shades of green.
I paddle my pirogue through algae foam.
Around me it's taciturn and serene
as I collect for whittling, cypress knees.
Fishermen, hunters, and I call it home.
Nature's garden profuse with wildflowers;
cattails and swamp iris in brown and blue.
An alligator, inert near the banks.
I sit and gaze at the beauty for hours.
For my primitive domain, I give thanks -
for the bass I caught, simmering in stew,
and for herbs I use for healing powers.
In the swamp, it's as if time has stood still.
Under lily pads there lurks big bullfrogs
hiding from herons and the egret.
I can hear them calling out their trill.
Time in my cabin I never regret.
Life is peaceful in these foggy bogs.
I ready myself for night's misty chill.
Sinister snakes slither in shallow brine
and cling to low branches overhead,
trying to catch the last ray of sun.
I descry them while checking my line
then gather up moss, and when that's done,
I will stuff it inside my mattress bed.
Living in my swamp suits me just fine.
_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_
January 21st, 2016
Human Nature Contest
Sponsor: Marugu Mo
Magic Beans of Many Colors
In a magical fairyland I reside,
herons, toucans, rainbow lorikeets, peacock angels,
hummingbirds, ostrich, even a cockatrice
of magnificent colors that harmonize.
They take flight and soar in the glorious effulgent wide
blue sky; roost on the limbs of lush crisp green trees,
or wander the landscape foraging on meat and plants.
Magical animals, dragons, unicorns, ,Pegasus
Gamayun ,skvaders, wolpertinger all exists.
A forest of trees with canopies so large and trim
the folks build tree houses on the strong large limbs.
Spiral ladders and ropes are used to get upward to their dwellings.
Out of my window I peek, a raven with black glossy plumage
color of soft elegant black silk appears with a gift in his beak.
He has brought beans of assorted colors so rare, a gift from a mage.
I wonder if I plant them is it worth
the effort, what it would bring forth.
I hurriedly get up in the morn, dress,
and have my hot breakfast.
I rush out with my gift to my secret place
a cave where my treasures I place.
By the entrance I dig the moist fertile ground
and plant my rare beans of assorted colors.
To my surprise, a wondrous sight I see.
As soon as the rainbow beans touch the soil,
feel its moisture they establish their roots
and grasp the upturned soft brown, fertile soil.
I stand there and watch in awe
As Hedera vines creep and reach around the mountain side
As it reaches out the stems gets thicker and restricting,
It’s bursting leaves greener and containing
All of a sudden, they stop growing.
Little doors are opening as little people dressed in green peek out.
Leprechauns!!!
Now I can follow my dreams of riches
And look for the pots of gold under the rainbows
5/1/2016
1/25/2015
*
the
watchful eyes
of full moon
flickers again, *
an alchemy of cicada nights
humming a mantra like a pastoral symphony
-- -as if in a twirl of primal energy --- flock of
herons,
band of cattle, and grasses invite smokey dusk to
recite
her fables on morning dew and twilight passages
chant after chant
* and the trees bloom of a thousand foliage
gracing the winds with such opulent swagger,
that the living—absent from babbling language —
sigh after sigh
abandon its own movements to drift on greenery
floating on anklet of sky hardly recognized , except
for this
rare instance: the dignity of darkness, the tiers of
fragrance,
and caresses of nocturnal beings gathering in
warm
oneness of silence, reverent as it were, upon
• dew soaked in buoyant wonder..*
the mind forgets to speak: the branches
of a landscape pivot never knowing why
in solace, the breath marries light
II circle II
after
II circle. II
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^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Creative Layouts Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
8/11/2013
We are off on a long DRIVE to see the famous, re-known big FIVE,
Three hours later at the Kruger National Park we safely arrive,
And cruise among predatory country, beautiful, colorful wildlife,
Full of LIFE the two of us, my husband and his very excited WIFE.
We see a pride of LIONS, and park next to a tour bus of HAWAIIANS,
They seem ecstatic, cameras clicking, among them Uruguayans,
They follow us, as they seem to think we will know where to go,
Continue over a bridge SLOW, see crocodiles drifting with the river FLOW.
Still the tour BUS continues and winds its way whenever they see US,
We see cheetah, leopards, a herd of elephants, an absolute plus,
We stop, the tour bus stops too, at a waterhole, but leave, close by are bees,
We spot rhinos, baboons, eagles perched on TREES, a warthog on its KNEES!
The tourist’s excitement contagious and SPILLS, we come across horn BILLS,
Big birds, the secretary bird, Goliath herons, but the horn bills by the hills,
Excite them the most, we had befriended each other and my husband said,
These birds don't FLY, upon which they flew off towards the SKY, hubby so red!
POETRY CONTEST ENTRY
IN RHYMES SUBLIME POETRY CONTEST ENTRY
SPONSORED BY; JOSEPH MAY
05/11/2020
potpourri of wreaths
splatter night rhinestones with aisles
of gold cashmere talc,
stairways of herons ascend
* sky flooding autumn light bulbs
heaven drips of earth's
elegance, drops of fern boughs
collect hands calmly
chiming psalms of fall's remains *
a mantle bathed by wet stars
(c)Contest of Brian Strand
Spring has come in the Sunshine Coast!
Carried by the wings of Humming birds
flying through the Pacific Flyway,
flowing like a dash of fresh air
Spring has come here to stay!
Look, there in the shallow beaches,
Great Blue Herons wait for the prey,
their aquatic love for eelgrass
keeps them waiting the whole day,
Herrings,Soles are busy in hide and seek play,
Spring has finally come here,
come here to stay!
The blue water of the Pacific
shining with bright sun rays,
heady fragrance of lilacs
thrilling the air whole day,
it must be Miss Kim,as
Miss Canada is still far away;
Spring has finally come here,
come here to stay!
**Miss Kim and Miss Canada are two varieties of lilac.
=============================
I thought to when my mother took my hand.
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
(toys which I could ill-afford;
a Batman cape,
a red fire engine.)
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their
wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.
I never lost my youthfulness, my
joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times,
in Jesus' presence,
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings,
feel content
that tribulation never came to trouble me.
A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth,
to all men
greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet
while the village sleeps and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping,
perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!