Best Lair Poems
The air is wet, the sky is very grey
A buoy works its shift down near the shore
Light is quite scarce in these clouds by the bay
Might be a little rain, clouds to implore
The waves are more brisk down on the surface
There might be a flash of lightning no more
There’s nothing between the water and grace
A constant wind exists out in the air
There’s a tender, calm feeling in this place
Never will one find terror or despair
On this ocean a perfect water lair
Russell Sivey
Hill – lair - y
Gone but not forgotten…
the rancid stench of hope
…..gone rotten.
©4/8/2019
A Realistic Hillary Clinton Poem Poetry Contest
Michael Wegman - sponsor
Fearless Excavation!
Dirt flies into the air.
Turtle Devastation,
As he digs a muddy lair.
Mindful Contemplation.
Winter weather is quite near.
Springtime Fascination
Is when turtle reappears.
I watch as roaring winds accost
withered leaves that would soon be lost.
Branches, once laden green, beware ~
November will strip your limbs bare.
Your clothes swept to the muck and mire,
raked onto their funeral pyre.
Wet from drizzling rain, they are tossed,
weeping, as if they had been glossed.
A windswept death does not seem fair.
It fills me with grief and despair.
I would raise them up high...higher,
each leaf escaping flames of fire.
No headstone with name 'Leaf' embossed,
etched with November's snow and frost.
Fallen leaves have no Winter lair,
no warm warren as does the hare.
If Nature could somehow transpire
to save them, 'twould be my desire.
November 29, 2020
William Kekaula's Lay November Contest
checked with HMS
There once was a leader called Blair
To the Iraqi war he declared
Like little lost sheep
None of his party did weep
Not one was found dead lying there
You have come to the dragons lair,
but don't come in unaware,
others came yet quickly fled,
and those that didn't,
well there now dead,
as you go down into her night,
where there is no sun light,
where many temptations,
lay in wait,
but only i know where they are.
so come in if you dare,
and if you are the treasures heir,
i will smell it in the air,
this is the dragons lair.
The Cunning Stranger at Dragon's Lair - A Narrative Poem
One day at a comic shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For the money, he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.
"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money (wow)."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
This ain’t no zoo or pet store!
"We've got some interesting comics,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some ergonomics."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The store owner said I got Batman # 7;
The man said I’d rather have rabies.
The man seemed exceptionally energetic,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call acetic,
The great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit cunning.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty stunning.
In his hand was Spider-man # 5.
In mint condition worth $1.000.00, what a fine;
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the comic shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."
"Cats, bats, you shall not find.
Comics, ergonomics, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Dragon's Lair Comics.
So to Dragon's Lair Comics, I decided to go,
In search of the bats, I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling comics,
Role-playing cards many heroes shades.
There were even stalls selling home economics
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather cunning
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all stunning.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some comics and cats.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I heard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
Next door to the comic shop Acme Pet Store?
For you see a pet bat, not a cat or a comic was I looking for
6/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
The Dragon's lair awaits her
She knows not which way to turn
This thing has made her soul stir
It’s for this she’s always yearned
The peacefulness her heart has known
Stripped and billowing in the wind
Fragile stitches where calm has been sewn
Are stretched and worn paper thin
The calmness pushes against the seams
Like a dam that holds back raging rivers
Excitement of things that build her dreams
And deep in her bones she quivers
The path to the lair is trodden
Familiar footsteps over time
Just as the grass begins to spring back
Dragons beckon her continue the climb
Enigmas that she needs answered
Are deep in the caverns of hell
Perhaps the path not yet ventured
Is where the answers will dwell.
November 7, 2017
A majestic beast
lives inside a cave.
Sleeping there by day,
soaring high each night.
Red eyes burning bright.
A fire breather,
hunting for prey
with a loud roar
in tales and lore.
I saw him
as he slept
when I crept
in the
dragon's
lair.
June 14, 2022
Diminished Hexaverse Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
How wicked the tricks of your serpent’s lair
a lingual place of wild mango magic behind caliente lips
where a supple sensualist lies in seductive ambush—
rum on the rocks spices the red bed of your taste buds
libation temptation whets my wish like a knife on stone
medieval my want to stir my tongue in your firewater
my fingers a captivated trellis
jealous and zealous carefree and careless
find their way to getting lost in your midnight curls
S curves wind from devil depths to bind
aroused fingers— coiled accomplices hold me captive
as I’m pulled in with potion-puncture fangs
piercing my heart deep piercing my soul sweet
eyes of winter blue skies belie your stealth
l i p s heat-seek as you place your face to mine
tongue flicks for a taste ah flirts with lust-basted taste
yes y e s s s press your whispering mouth on mine
my mouth blooms like a dusk-loving moonflower
throat white against night my breath your honeysuckle
unholy hunger unleashed a famished desperation
my desperation so full of babydoll flame and ash
your jaw unhinges to swallow whole my fire and ire
oh bend me like a willow in the tongue-tie of your kiss
break me take me make me buy the bliss in your hiss
feed me fantasies I need to cede lace without chains
as hush-winged-talons scythe bloodstreams of dreams
bleed me in the weed greed of your sidewinding river
‘til you shed my love the way a constrictor sheds skin
I crave to tame you claim you
make you my burlesque feather boa—
your lightning I’d capture
and wear your glamour with rapture
instead of being your convenience pet kept
The lair
I had a secret treasure I had buried in my soul
Buried in an empty void when I was young , strong and almost whole.
I was proud to have a treasure as I kept it from my peers.
A hint I'd give them now and then for years and years and years
.
It seemed good cause to lift my head and as long as it was there
Their protest didn't matter . I just didn't care.
I had advantage over all who didn't know that it was there
There were times I needed it but it was in a dragons lair.
The dragon blew its' flames at me each time I thought to spend it.
If someone came too close to it the dragon would defend it.
As ages took my strength from me I finally realized
I couldn't use the treasure for the dragon grew in size.
Feeding on my treasure he consumed it day by day
the dragon fed on love you see and defended it with flames.
The Dragons name was Grudges as you may have figured out by now.
IF YOU HAVE A TREASURE CHEST of LOVE
THEN CAST SMALL GRUDGES OUT
By L. Dale McKee
From a moist veil of English Ivy
The renegade snapdragon lurks
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
She looked at the other side
of herself
The ferocious face that everyone would hide
she looked at her other book on the shelf
So brave she is , her world is wide
the hidden things within are her power and pelf
A lioness in the royal liar,she lied
untamed , untidy and this is the best of her side
small it is, as if she is haunted by a wild elf
A wall it is, unseen and from the snide
world outside; she would eternally hide
Who broken into Cupid’s Lair
without roses in both hands?
Did she come from forlorn lands,
her lips smiling fair and fair?
Will she find me hiding here,
bleeding from a chest’s wound?
Do I hear a tapping sound
while she is coming near?
Can I leave and see her face
or it will be something wrong?
I am sure she hums a song,
inviting me to join and dance!
No? It is only my weary heart
recalling a dream I had often.
All my memories will soften:
as I will meet her in my art…
He was lured into her lair
By her mesmerizing stare
And while he was in there
She issued him a dare
She dared him to sit still
While she enforced on him her will
Promising a thrill
Never offered by another girl
He wasn’t really sure
If he should bite into her lure
Then he heard the locking door
And was heard from never more