Best Holt Poems
In those bleak fields that so quietly lie - stilled as graves,
Between where the thin wind creaks and upwardly heaves,
Unseen feet can sometimes be heard
Shuffling through the old woods discarded leaves.
For i have seen those strange distant lights
That detach themselves from heavens spilling crowds;
When dropping over the blindside of the little ridge
They rise to leap from cloud to cloud.
Impossible angles of inexplicable darting momentum -
Inwardly gyrating wheels now ingeniously turning;
Marvelous these the strange crafts of unknown design...
Yes - I have seen the night skies burning!
For well i remember as a reckless child
How i stole out to ascend that one forbidden hill:
Cast deep plans, set the clock ticking accordingly,
Rose, wrapped myself against Novembers raw chill.
Deep inside the Beech-hanger the Plough was struggling,
And over the despairing holt a devisive breeze...
As, of a sudden, on the edge of swirling darkness -
Showered particles upon vapourous ethers so violently seized!
Oh the hissing bolts of sizzling electrons -
Brilliance of colours like a dying meteors last rites!
Anti-Graviton paradox of mastered equational conundrum
Igniting the latent freeze within winters sharp night.
Radiant orb held aligned by polar-opposites forceful lines,
Spinning upon a singular point with such consummate ease;
Roaring furiously liken fabled dragon of Arthurian legend,
Hot breath licking across lines of illuminated trees.
Momentary seconds that crept alongside an age enraptured
Amidst tumbling thoughts of - "Just another Alien abductee"!
Then, gently tilting starboard, accelerating smoothly away,
Vanishing over the stacks and tiled rooftops of nearby Walton-Lea.
Often have i wistfully pondered in ever hopeful, watchful years:
What was it so witnessed as it hung before me in suspended flight?
And - with many cramming thoughts - groping for answers sought -
Recalling the wondrous moment of such an awe-inspiring sight!
Categories:
holt, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
Do
Do what I can ,
But but maybe old man,
I can’t do what I wanna do,
Less I can catch a good holt,
Can’t do the sweet bolt,
Till I catch me a shiela , true blue,
Do think it is slack,
But, just never look back,
Till the fowls flap, wherever they flew.
Paula Swanson
Contest Name How Due You Dew
Categories:
holt, adventure,
Form:
Rhyme
Full Bloom
A Rose in full bloom,
such a beautiful sight to see.
In mornin' first dewy light,
lettin' it's pedals free.
Something to admire,
Only from a distance.
On the back of a good horse,
across a fence.
My life has been romanced,
and turned to some fantasy.
But the cowboy life is mine,
the dreams of it are for those in the city.
For bronc's can be flat mean,
and the dusty breeze is hot.
and if an ol' ladino gets a holt of ya,
you appreciate what you got.
But a mountain mornin'
can make a heart turn glad.
and get ya to thinkin'
of all you had.
With so much and so little,
beauty is ones life.
A cowboy has to stop and gaze,
just for a moment and a half.
So this ol' tumbleweed gets movin'
when the wind blows.
Takin' me away from,
from the garden of Rose.
Categories:
holt, cowboy-western, introspection, love, life,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
This pain is not my fault
I was just unlucky
It brings my life to holt
Each stabbing pain, twisting ache
Strikes as hard as a lightening bolt
This cramping is so hard to shake
Endometriosis is its name
We're not playing this is no game
It takes away so many things
Each person its sorrow it brings
To know what we go through
If you only knew
You see sometimes we can't do much
Apart from lay in the fetal position
People judge as such
Oh she has that condition
Never fully understanding just what it takes to paint her face
And show the world she's not a waste of space.
So to you fellow endo sisters
Out there
Your not your illness
Your beautifully flawed and are so very strong
We are here for each other in this mess
I'm sorry this poem is very long
So I hope these words have helped you know. Each time you get told your lazy, making it up
go and prove them wrong
We are survivors and we know
That this awareness for this condition should grow
From one endo sister to another with love ??????
Categories:
holt, emotions, for her,
Form:
Rhyme
Happy Happy Birthday Claire Holt
To the 'ABSOLUTELY most STUNNING,
'SOPHISTICATED BEAUTY OF ALL TIME '
with the most
'SPARKLING, PERKY, ENCHANTING PERSONALITY
that goes with the
'BRIGHTEST HOMETOWN GOOD-GIRL SMILE'
let me say
Happy Happy Birthday to you
I lift up my glass with a
'LYRICAL Toast'
just as 'TOMBOY NATURALLY FLAWLESS'
and 'ENTHUSIASTICALLY, SINCERE, and ORIGINAL'
as to say to you
I hope you have a
Happy Happy Birthday
that only a
'CELESTIAL GODDESS'
like you can do
Happy Happy Birthday
to a 'BELOVED VISION of LOVELINESS'
as 'Angelically enchanting, and ADORABLY SOPHISTICATEDLY KIND'
irreplaceable CLAIRE HOLT wonderful you
Categories:
holt, beautiful, celebration, celebrity, happy
Form:
Bio
I had them hidden
locked & safe
my treasure, my precious
What I value above all
Some said gold
Some said money
but some, even surprised me
whispering "puh; she hasn't got a thing"
some made me laugh
while others made me cry
But, here I have them
still safe, hidden & locked
my treasure, my precious
My Books...
What I value above all...
Charlotte & Emily Bronte
Dickens, Twain
Austen, Hugo
Nesbit & Holt
Even Dumas...
It took a little time
Gave me a hard time
But, I have them now
my treasure, my books
My favorites..
Made me my world
Gave me new taste
I value above all
more than gold
My Books, My Treasure....
Categories:
holt, books,
Form:
Free verse
I stand on the cliff’s edge and look down,
The falling stones, I hear their resound.
I close my eyes to feel the winds embrace,
I sense its touch all over my face.
I’m alone,
No fear...
The white waters pound the rocks below,
If I fall...
Who would know.
This is my selfish experience
My life is of little significance
The coward’s way out
I feel the wind moving about
Its blowing on my back as if to say jump
It would be all over in a minute with a thump
But like something invisible keeping me on
Though I see the happy things in my life all gone
I decide not to do it, to step away
Then a sudden scream I heard, aimed my way
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I slip over the edge with my face all screwing
I scream and start to bawl
“Urrrrrh!!!!! Arrrrrrrrrrrsehoooooooooole!!!”
The fear I now feel racing through me veins
And the pain I'm about to feel rushing through me brain
I helplessly lash out at the cliff edge
And manage to grasp hold of a protruding bit of veg
I’m brought to a holt like a snap of a whip
Then snap, crackle and pop I’m moving again to finish of my trip
I hit the rocks with a promising thud
I punch the air and say “Thank you me Lard”
Well I was air lifted to hospital with, a dislocated shoulder broken ribs and two leg bones,
If it weren’t for that hiker I would be ok walking home...
Ps some where amongst that bit of veg
If you ever climb down you'll see me teeth stuck on the cliff's edge
Categories:
holt, funny, me, life, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Well lemme tell ya a thing er two bout people,
Ben round plenny of em and ah got sumpin figerred,
Don’t make no diffrence if’n they is under a steeple,
If’n they small, medium, smart, dumb, big er bigger,
Ah seen that most ever body kin dish it out,
But ain’t many a tender body kin take it.
Ya see criticizins fair easy to do as shout,
To do that folks are a chompin at the bit.
We thinks we got everthin lassoed right smart,
And got a holt a the branded calf by the tail,
But truth is we ain’t hardly got no heart,
Gotsta look at ar own sels ..else we fail.
So yup, ah reckon that’s what most a us folks are all about,
We cain’t take it but sure as grass grows we uns kin dish it out !
Categories:
holt, people, body,
Form:
Sonnet
~I Always Love To Read A Good Book~
( Rhyming Couplet)
I always love to read a good book
And sitting down with one beside a brook.
Non-fiction or fiction, who cares! I'll check any book
And when I read a great book I just get hook.
I love them all small or very big
Any way I get them for me, you dig.
I travel with them about just anywhere
And they usually take me to places I do care.
I like them all with just a little gig
And they perform for me nicely a jig.
When I see a book that I really like
I have to have it, before it takes a hike.
I buy my books from special places, but mostly new,
Sometimes, I can't swallow all that I want to chew.
Books! Books! And more, I love them all kind of books
Keep them all coming, together with my checkbook.
I just love to read LOTR and all the books by J.R.R.Tolkien,
Jane Austen, and the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S.Lewis also his friend,
Give me the Holy Bible, Victoria Holt, Stephen King and Anne Rice
Nora Roberts, Jackie Collins, and J.K. Rowling, all, they're all quite nice.
So buying books I shall never, ever stop
I prefer reading any time than floors in my house to mop.
My favorite stops are the art stores and the bookshops,
And in my list books, are always right, at the top.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
December.26.2015
Categories:
holt, beautiful, blessing, books, inspirational,
Form:
Couplet
It was one year ago today when four innocent people were shot.
The killer thought if he killed the witnesses he'd get away with it but he did not.
Two of those unfortunate people died but the other two survived.
They would've all perished if the Paramedics hadn't quickly arrived.
It's terrifying to even think about what happened in that drug store.
Because of a very evil man, two nice people aren't alive anymore.
Somebody told my friend that she should move because of that man's brutal attack.
But she and I are not going to leave our hometown because of that deranged maniac.
Jason Bryan Holt is the murderer and he has a town full of haters.
The town of Bean Station is still saddened and in shock one year later.
(Dedicated to Stephen Lovell, Richard Sommerville, Alexia Wilson and Janet Clift who were shot one year ago today at Minnis Downhome Pharmacy.)
Categories:
holt, dark, death, dedication, murder,
Form:
Rhyme
G20-Blue
At the G20 meeting, many nations steps they trod,
where the Abbot in his Budgies, tried to fight the Putin sod,
oh it came down to leaders, now to fight a war for us,
no casualties no bleeders, just the fisticuffs and stuff,
{ideal war let the leaders do it}
the new age brought a war change, it was just a man on man,
and the victor won the battle, and the boundaries changed again,
Putin with a drop-kick, caught ole Abbot by the ear,
and he would have bit it off, but the dandruff tasted *****,
cos he said it needed salt?
so they frolicked and they tussled till the Abbot got a chop,
and he sent it to the kitchen, needed onions on the top?
Putin was disgusting when he got the Christmas holt,
and the budgie smugglers cringed, did his testes bloody moult?
But Abbot whispered in his ear,
and took it up a gear,
Pissle whipped the Rusky dolt,
who had given up his holdt,
cos he said he wasn't *****,
just a Russian farm boy colt,
Abbot he did sneer at the Billy Stinker Goat,
and they sat there sucking beer,
till the lights were dim with bloat,
: return we will at daylight,
when the rooster crows his note,
to fight another day,
a winner yet, unquote?
Don Johnson
Categories:
holt, adventure,
Form:
Ballad
The End Of Harold Holt
By Roy Merritt
On December seventeenth, nineteen sixty seven
The Prime Minister of Australia
Perhaps went off to heaven
He went swimming in the ocean
Against all good advice
They told him not to do it
They told him more than twice
But he insisted on doing it
For it was summer that time of year
And he was a strong swimmer
A man of little fear
But he never came back that day
They never saw this man again
And many rumors surrounded
This man’s final swim
Some thought he was kidnapped
By the Chinese Reds
Some thought it was suicide
That the man was just plain dead
Some thought sharks had gotten him
That the man was an obstinate dolt
But regardless what the truth was
It was the end of Harold Holt
Categories:
holt, history, humor, mystery, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme
Arise young man
for you're sat in my chair
it's a black and tan fact that I always sit there.
My body's effete
I envisage a pause
insipid responses are'nt helping the cause.
Disrupting proceedings
congesting the room
I shall rain on your head a disparaging tune.
Who gave you admission
who gave you the ball
you pitch in Zimbabwe, Yemen or Nepal.
You're dropping your drivel all over the place
I'm brewing a mixture to foetor your space.
Contemptuous derision of cultured advice
and cute disrespect of our country's entice.
You hustlers got rhythm
you hustlers got stance
us shufflers are hoofing the Floral Dance.
I'm standing...you're sitting amazing the court
reciting us Shakespeare and Pinter and Holt.
You're devouring my dinner
then guzzling my tea
the resident kookies are cracking with glee.
Are they your wheels hogging the hub of my drive?
that's it mate....you're finished....I'll skin you alive.
This bale revelation has made me uptight
to retrieve my location I'll hammer all night.
........Get up I say
that's my bloody chair
it's a black and tan fact.....that I always sit there.
Categories:
holt, funny
Form:
Light Verse
Like a frosted mini-wheat there is always two sides
As they will continually compete for in whom one abides
Oh that kid side is there but that grown up is there too
But these are not a pair in fact the exact opposite is true
The child is so impulsive especially when the adult is not round
He just wants to live and he doesn't care about being found
But the adult is very different as he has grown over the years
In knowing what is meant by experiencing those same tears
So rarely do they meet this odd couple that is forever within
Each finding it hard to compete as Glory doesn't hang around with sin
It's like they take turns especially in not being the vigilant adult
For the little kid will always yearn which I so often try to holt
But that's where God's Grace comes in and He takes control
Smacking his grinning face and therein securing your soul
God knows your every grain and He knows your exact oat
Hey kid, stop being so vain, shut up, sit down and just take note
Categories:
holt, age, child, desire, devotion,
Form:
Rhyme
Songbird- by Michelle Artiaga
(For my girls Maya Holt and Kira Holt)
It's hard to find the words or deeds to somehow make things right –
To try and mend the broken wing and renew it's joyful flight.
I'm with you in the storm you face
My love, my heart,there too.
Just know the day that passes by ,
will once again renew.
Songbird, sing your song again- when dark days and nights are long.
Your sweetest song will right the way---
when all the world is wrong.
The hurricane has ended,that
destroyed our happy home.
We can now rebuild again -
The foundation, oh,so strong!
Rest your weary head
upon my strengthened chest.
May it help to ease the pain inside
and give you time to rest.
Your wings will mend -face towards the light.
The sun above and love within, will help regain your sight----
Songbird sing your song anew,
Within the darkest night.
Soon the broken wing will mend,
In song, you'll find your flight
(Written for you with love my babies--Mom)-By Michelle Artiaga 10/24/16
Categories:
holt, beauty, courage, flying, growth,
Form:
Free verse