Best Leaps And Bounds Poems
The good earth!...ahh! its beauty
sloping down to golden river’s bank,
where trout and dreamy summit play
their game, a contest of who looks
longest, passers by or the tickled fish
and cumly eagle in her fortress nest
Yet is there a winner, who feasts off such
delight?
The latter in leaps and bounds astounds the
cornered eye: feathered lord of all surveyed.
Then smell the scent of bracken on the wind….
the eagle’s feather and crafty trout’s scale
intertwine, for pleasure and delight…no contest
to amend.
All’s well on the good earth!
Silky black hair, eyes so blue.
I get goosebumps being with you
A smile that makes the room so bright
My dreams of you all through the night
The laughter that brightens up your face
Being with you my heart starts to race
The wings behind you on the wall
The angelic features that say it all
The charm and charisma soot you best
You are leaps and bounds above the rest
The moral standards you hold so true
These are the reasons I fell for you
When I first saw you, you were just another pretty face in the crowd, another student, another stranger. But one night that all changed.
Suddenly I saw you in a new light. You moved from stranger to friend in the blink of an eye. You captured my attention.
Weeks went by and our friendship grew. You never knew my feelings for you, but what could I do? Several relationships passed by as I watched you love and get hurt, wishing I could ease the pain.
I played the "just friends" part well, almost too well. I wish I had had the courage to tell you how I felt; but I remained silent. I was afraid of your rejection.
Finally things changed in my favor. You started to take an interest in me, and my heart jumped for joy. We spent time together and my feelings for you grew in leaps and bounds.
You were my first kiss, and to this very day, you still don't know. We weren't together, but everyone looking at us from the outside would know the difference. You were my Romeo and I was your Juliet.
It was perfect for a while, but then life hit us like a ton of bricks. Suddenly everything fell apart and I was pulled into the swift undertow. I was losing you . . .
I did everything I could to salvage the pieces, but there were too many and I couldn't do it on my own. You said you were leaving me and my heart shattered. I tried to hold it in, tried to play it off as insignificant, but you saw through my facade.
You said I was strong, but in that moment I felt so weak. You said you were "just a guy" but my heart protested the thought. You meant the world to me, but you didn't believe it.
You couldn't see the tears coursing down my cheeks. Could feel the pain tearing though my heart, or hear the unspoken words in my mind, "I think I'm falling in love with you".
Looked up and down, right and left
Wondering why life suffers a theft
Subtracted beauty from my chin cleft
If I deserved and preserved the best
My love could lavish to attest
Why my love passed a preset test
Under dodgy durations of circumstances
Pummeling endeavours made in instances
That diminished and dwindled distances
Acknowledged to reveal robust character
On a bus, on a train, on foot, on a tractor
Where we determined adversity no longer a factor
In consolidating the love we feel
Grows by leaps and bounds despite the bill
Your family sprang on me to deal and kill
The foundations you and I have built
Over the years to fight to the hilt
Any machinations to pour heaps of silt
Into our love cogs
Meaning love should don cogs
Saunter under coercion in bogs and fogs
To prove its strength
Walking on hot coals at length
If truth should pervade and invade love width
To delight your parents
So worried and harried by overdue rents
We owe for domestic tents
That accommodate our nights and days
Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays
Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays
Shared with supreme care
Far beyond compare
Even when evil eyes stare
Willing you and I could disintegrate
To delight the flight of the ingrate
Who wishes our relationship could migrate
Into Dante's Hades
Struck by full blown Aids
Enfeebled and disabled in beds
Where to detractors we surrender
Stuck owing bucks to the vendor
Who dares to crush our love in his blender
Administering his coup the grace
As we lie panting on yellow grass
Listening to soothing sounds of brass
Whispering osculation and consolation
Amid an attempt at immolation
Our love sustains not in isolation
But in tandem
With a hustled harem
Which sings its ultimate knell anthem.
Little kids have a natural curiosity
that can catch us off guard too often.
Like little Bobby, who went into the kitchen and said,
"Mom, can I ask you a question"?"
"Okay", says she, "I've time for a few".
"I just wanted to know...how old are you"?
"That is not a question you ask of a lady in point,
if you don't want to get her nose out of joint".
"I'm sorry, if I got you upset.
So I'll ask instead, How much do you weigh"?
"Those are not polite questions you are asking son,
and as a lady I'm unwilling to say".
"I'm sorry", again, came Bobby's retort.
"Why doesn't Dad live with us anymore"?
That was it, she'd had enough as she ran him outside,
"Go out and play with your friends before I get sore".
Out he went, his little attitude shattered,
until his friend saw Bobby's face in a frown.
He asked Bobby what was going on,
to make him so gloomy and so down.
After a little conversation about his encounter with mom,
his friend's advice cheered him of that there's no doubt.
"You can get all that info, you silly goof,
Look at her Driver's License and figure it out".
Bobby followed his friend's simple words,
got the info, and ran into the kitchen by leaps and bounds.
Smirkingly he said, "I know how old you are...you're 27,
and you weigh 116 pounds."
"That's right, how do you know"? her face quizzical
"I looked at your Driver's License and just did the math".
His mother had to give him some credit,
after all, it was an unusual path.
"And I know why Dad doesn't live here anymore".
"Now that wasn't on my" Driver's Licence", she said rather vexed.
"Oh yes it was, it was right there...
I saw that you got an 'F' in SEX"!
Note:
this is an old joke I heard somewhere, and
decided to try to put it to rhyme.
The spring was on the way
time for the farmer to plough
straight lines running parallel
gleaming in the rich red loam
It had laid all winter waiting
now it was time to sow and seed
yellow mustard glinting in the sun
so pretty as it grows in leaps and bounds
Little animals made their home
borrows in between the roots
even a dormouse always sleepy
soon they scurry off as harvest begins
Harvesters hard at work birds feasting
on those that were far too slow
crops are now gathered in and stored
the horses fallow the field now it rests
This spring the field will remain fallow
all part of the master plan of rotation
it's life is simple following a four year plan
to maximize each year's yield without stress
Following being fallow potatoes go in
these help clear the land of weeds
while adding goodness to the soil
then the golden wheat which the land depletes
Last to go in will be turnips for feed
completing a long term cycle of crops
If it could talk many tales it would tell
of all of the goings on within it's boundaries
Jumping on a trampoline
Falling off could be quite mean!
Jumping up with leaps and bounds
Oh how fun that really sounds!
These obstacles are high
the leaps and bounds exhausting
Yet your challenge is the bit I bite
to tear away your percieved control.
I am the force of will who knows no master.
I am the beast to ravage all oppressors.
My muscles tremble my fervour grows
And my freedom will over throw.
Let loose your reigns and see how high I soar.
Have a cap, a baseball type cap
With the NASA symbol emblazoned
Reminds me of my visit to Cape Canaveral
A symbol of man's dedication
Feels so good wearing this hat
Such a tribute to man's ingenuity
Each day something else blows my mind
The progress, the real continuity
In leaps and bounds we move ahead
It's left my poor mind in the dust
Am really too old to keep abreast anymore
Age makes it difficult to adjust
So from little old me I'm sending this
A tribute to those amazing people
Who've forged this path to the heavens above
To me it all seems so surreal
© Jack Ellison 2013
He has no poetic garden to gaze upon
no outside to the inside of this room
Soft breaths of brothers 1, 2 and 3
like the breeze on the asphalt playground
of his tiny school, one mile away.
No light shines in his window
No birds sing hymns from leafing trees
No sign of spring or fall or summer
display beyond the sill.
In this place where nothing grows
is life, but hidden from the world
and the grand and stylish homes
(with their fruit trees and fancy lawns)
Within these walls with brothers 1, 2 and 3
mama collapses, exhausted on the sofa
and papa snores loudly from the floor.
He prevails with dreams and plans and sadness
in leaps and bounds and setbacks
between school lunches and cafe con leche for breakfast.
In the place where nothing grows, he lives.
An ode must be written to the player of strings
Thanking them for the joy their playing brings
Reminiscent to a puppet master they strike the strings
Like a ventriloquist with seemingly voicelessness the object sings.
Sometimes seated or even when they stand
By pick, by bow or by hand
Played as an acoustic or powered with juice in the form on an electric
Like perfect circles both sit perfectly concentric
A lute, a cello and guitar
A harp, a bass, zither or sitar
A double bass, banjo or mandolin
A cigar box guitar or violin
Treble, Lyon, Pistoy, Diapason and fret gut
As different as a cashew and macadamia nut
As long as it is played well and not abused
It doesn’t matter how or what is used
The impact of sound orders the audience to be silent
In a forceful way which is strangely non-violent
The sound created is so divine
As delicious as a creamy cheese or well aged wine.
If a picture tells a thousands words
There must be infinite words present in your soulful chords
When you arrive at that magical sound
Body quivers and feet lift off the ground.
Like a boat in the ocean calmly afloat
There is a calming peace that arrives when you hit the perfect note
Choosing between being blind or deaf is decision one wouldn’t want to make
But if I was to only hear, for heaven’s sake
Strike those strings and create those harmonious sounds
And the visual images will come in leaps and bounds
Play me an a, b, c, d, e, f or g in major or minor
When beautifully played nothing could be finer
A verse on its own can be said and cheery
But without the strings it becomes tiresome and weary
The body shakes when the sounds of the strings reach perfection
In peculiar cases it has been known to aid downstairs in an uplifting direction
With the perfect note the soldier stands to attention
Here’s hoping it doesn’t occur at a men’s only convention
Undoubtedly when you play
The dark of night turns into the bright of day
Like a perfect duck dive without a splash
Or a burnt out fire with the remaining golden ash
Whether you’re in your twenty’s or seventy five
The magic moments keep you alive
So thank you to the player of the strings
For the absolute pleasure your playing brings
And sheer delight when your instrument sings
THANK YOU PLAYER OF STRINGS
One day I was really busy with chores as my son was sitting all around.
Not helping, he was driving me crazy as he got in the way, in leaps and bounds.
Every few seconds he was asking what to do, and acting, oh so bored.
His whining and irritation carried on, as all my suggestions, he deplored.
In a moment of weakness, I told him to go fly a kite high up in the blue…
Well, we all know how karma has its way, and comes around so true…
He found a kite and sailed it with a kid with wilder views, outdoors.
Sure enough, trouble began as a girl in tears came running to my door.
She was begging me to save her froggy friend, the one she so adored.
For he was indeed taking a trip to worldly heights, as that kite soared.
Panicked, thoughts of a little broken froggie now sailed thru my mind.
And PETA knocking down my door was of course not far behind.
Chores forgotten, and with eyes full of horror I raced out the door.
Low and behold a kite that never could seem to get off the ground, before…
Was soaring at 200 feet where it continued to climb and soar, some more.
I figured my sons real want, had been to get attention from his Mom, for sure.
And he had won as we were together, as we tried to get that froggy to our side.
But he kept telling me the froggy had, himself, jumped twice on the kite, to ride.
But of course I didn’t believe him as we fought for froggy’s life.
After an hour of swoops and dives while praying for the best, amid the strife.…
Finally he was settled in a tree. But was the little guy happy? Did you guess?
No siree! No way! For when the kite took off again, I must confess…
With a leap of faith… he was again riding that kite as it shot up like an arrow.
And my son told me SEEEE I told you he really wanted to go…
As I reeled him quickly in, I ate a little crow, for not believing in him, before.
As we brought the froggy back down…I explained he didn’t want to soar…
But no matter what he wanted… he must not let him, ever sail again…
For my son was old enough to now understood the danger he’d been in.
I told him it was his responsibility to protect and pay attention to his little friend.
Instead give him love and attention, and to always be kind to him.
Dedicated to my Hubby always encouraging me on this site. PS: This is fictional.
Lord only knows how the settlers survived
When in Arizona's desert they arrived
I visited there in late November
And the piercing heat I still remember
Air conditioning's great invention
Brought to this state renewed attention
The population grew by leaps and bounds
Many homes were built on the sandy mounds
"There's no humidity," some still will say
Yet none survive without AC each day
(AC stands for air conditioning)
He rapt his thoughts
In a tone of utter solemnity
Reverent disgust veiled
The icy wasteland of his soul
Seized with doubt
His emaciated lust- the empty mirage
Of his forgotten manhood
Countenanced immodesty
An extension of natural law
Plucked from tender bosom
Leaving this prodigal sweetheart
’twixt searing blaze of shameless prurience
Here they came in leaps and bounds
Clad in flames of destruction
To gobble solace paramount
Bringing pungent odour of uncouthness
This unmarried hermit
Took pleasure in worldly jubilation
Defied childhood admonition
That infamy seeds its own immolation
He was not to buttress his memory
On whimpers of bleeding hearts
Nor on the flooded gutter of spiritualism:
Only the endowments of heart… only these.
Two white rabbits arrived on Easter Sunday
They sat in the basket, didn’t get away
Until I woke and found them nestling there
A wee young girl, I began stroking their hair
As they grew older, there was a cage to clean
The pellets they ate looked like awful cuisine
Each day they went running through our enclosed yard
Dad’s vegetable garden was ravaged hard
Although Dad was dismayed, he never yelled out
For he enjoyed watching them romping about
I loved my bunnies, but boy did they grow fast
They were bigger and bigger as each week passed
By the end of summer as cooler winds blew
I had 15 rabbits instead of just two
Who would have guessed how quickly they procreate
Leaps and bounds above normal human birth rate
Finally came the day when Dad said, “Enough!”
But giving them away proved terribly tough
Our neighbors had seen what had happened to us
Mom was in distress and put up quite a fuss
Folks at the Humane Society just laughed
To feed them, they would have needed a bank draft
I placed them in a wagon, went door-to-door
Found homes for thirteen, but still had two more
Till the kindly old woman across the street
Offered them a room in her “luxury” suite
Suddenly one night the lady disappeared
“Foreclosure,” some said, and that is what we feared
By spring she had opened a "Bunny Resort"
Visitors came, but she filed no earnings report
The tax man came by and she vanished again
Left on our doorstep, an empty rabbit pen
A note was attached, explanation given
She’d bestowed the rabbits on a magician
So when I see rabbits pulled out of a hat
I enjoy thinking we played a role in that
*Written February 24, 2012 for Carol's "Bunny Rabbits" contest