Best Naturefamily Poems
I saw a family of killer whales
In the Irish Sea
South-East of Wales .
With radar fins and splashing tails
Giant masters of the sea .
Free Willie's dream was Hollywood
He made a splash
And that was good
But then again , we knew he could
But , no Oscar-winner , he .
The family group , all had names
There was Jonah , Jerry
Jess and James
Zoe , Chloe and Sue were dames
And Bono swam like God .
Bertha and Babs with flashing eyes
Jack and Jill could synchronize
With Pete and Paul , we could sympathize
The only " 2 P's in the Pod " ..
Pumpkin
. I’m
A
melon
From which pies are made.
Have a fright? I used to cure snakebite!
And I removed speckles from people with freckles.
90% water, oh, so delicious. There’s more. I’m nutritious.
Eat me. What, can I say? You’ll get potassium and vitamin A.
That’s why I’ve been used in soups and stews. And not just in pies,
Surprise! Surprise!!! Here’s a fact that’s incredible. My flowers are edible.
Earliest ancestors’ seeds were N-a-t-i-v-e to the A-m-e-r-i-c-a-s. Believe!!!
Did you know? My h-e-r-e-d-i-t-y dates back to 5,000 years. Long, long ago!
That’s not all. Native Americans, with honey in vats, used me to weave their mats.
Here are some facts to make your mind glisten. Early settlers used to- now listen!
Make C_R_U_S_T_S!!! That’s right, I was used in piecrust and NOT poured inside.
That seems in some ways eerily chilling! A pumpkin piecrust with cherry pie filling
Oh, what’s all the fuss about pumpkin piecrust? Minced meat? Or a peachy treat!
Welcome. Come in. Join the fun. Prop up your feet, in the shade, not the sun.
Squash. Cucumbers. We’re all kin. Can you guess what family we’re in?
Cucurbita. I’ll say it again and again. Our family name is Cucurbita.
Cucurbita! Cucurbita! Cucurbita! Cucurbita! Cucurbita!
We're not just jack-o-lanterns. See!!!
*** Pumpkins posess history ***
Our sun is weak
In efforts to fill up our sky today
It’s bleak, a softness of gray marches in
Blanketing our forecast
Mild autumn, cool breeze
Peaceful, rolling low
Dead leaves sweeping around
New pavement cracking ground
An acoustic dance they tap
Out comes a rustling beat
Chasing one another gracefully
Down our city streets
Boisterous hoards of vehicles
Slither and hiss
Creeping their way through
Our city grid
Every so often
Muscular trumpet engines, become outdone
Let’s revert to a momentary handsome jungle scene
Watch and listen with care
As we relish an obtuse family of king elephant’s, trembling
Warring a melancholy parade
Through mothers natural bad lands
Hammering earths ground
With their massive bone crunching feet
Wake up; shake off your visionary nod
Back to the sounds, back to the sights
Back to our tender autumn city nights
A Bass filled honorable horn
Explodes and stretches
Out from an engine train
Vividly flexible slithering through our city
Bouncing off buildings, rolling down alleys
Sliding down rooftops, through slivered windows
Into our homes
As I sit back and observe
This miraculous painting
Of a finely stroked autumn day
I fall in love with the sights and sounds
Which bark and cruise upon her canvas spread
Graceful or not
Beautiful and ugly
Spills or mishaps
O thou spices of our lives
Beauty has been splashed
Upon this land, mighty grand
Even to a family of three or four
So small a note
To the makeup of her….masterpiece composer
Are we grateful? Are we selfish full of lingering lust?
A low storm hungry,
Rolling over grand mountains
Nearly black, pushing east
A shimmering assault of rain shall be released
Once her sky opens up
Like soldiers Para jumping
From a gang of war planes
I render it’s still a bit to warm
For a christening of our seasons first snow
I guess…… you never know
The wildness that can bleed out of our autumn city streets
As we plant future angelic seeds
By her window she looks
As the full moon stares
Three ravens in her light
A sign to beware
They continue to circle
Staying out of the full moons light
Why do they pick on this window
What do they see in their sight
She turns her head gently
As three shadows advance
Crashing against the window
Staring eyes in menace trance
Many times they try
To break through the glass
But as the clouds obscure the moon
They recede from their harass
The young girl falls down crying
As her parents rush to her aid
She tells them of the three ravens
In their crashing window crusade
Before the family moved there
Past events they were told
It appears they brushed them off
To join this community fold
For a few years earlier
There was a family of four
When the three ravens flew
They became a family no more
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-10.php
Saw family of four
again here this morning
took a closer look with
my spy glass,
there's really five of
these enchanting living things
only four young ones,
mama makes five though.
Developing so rapidly and
swimming so fine. As
the rest follow mama so close
one always lags behind.
Little legs pushes so well,
to catch up with rest,
of family so together
much to learn, before
mama lets them go.
wrote 6-4-07 at Lowell ponds