Best Nips Poems
Snowdrop gleams brightly in the light
On autumn's nape that hangs on iced trees;
Its shine endures and fills the night
With a lacquer from nature's alchemy.
Each shape is unique than the rest
Wondrously strung as mist of worth
Rare flurry ones; its chapter's best,
Designed by frost to enchant our earth
Woven tight flashing through chilled air
To warm nips of November's spell
Oval or round, these gems declare
The sparkling white made to excel.
Lovely the flake in endless streams
Bestowed to winter...nature's dream!
Super Sonnet Premium Contest For John Hamilton
Re-post: 12/14/2018
Originally Written 7/23/2018
bee pollinates blooms
hummingbird nips at nectar
flurry of wee wings
April first drives up in a new Lamborghini,
Everyone knows it is one of her foolish tricks
She will be driving a beat-up pickup farm truck
In thirty days, when time comes to start the planting.
April, she flounces between winter and summer,
Calling herself spring but she is, frankly, confused.
By the tenth, she is tossing around snow flurries
She grins crazily; our warm coats are put away.
Next day or so her temperatures are soaring,
The snow has melted, and we are donning our shorts.
What the old folks always call "Blackberry Winter"
Strikes with vengeance, temperatures in the thirties,
April says maybe that heavy sweater will do.
She laughs by tax-filing day with strong gusty wind
Though ornamental trees are beginning to bud,
There's talk of late frost, April does not seem to care.
Another few days, and she lets the top down so
Warm breezes are embracing the faint scent of lime.
When April suggests a warm spring is here to stay
A blast of Arctic air nips buds with frosty dew
In a warm day or two, sure enough, April comes
Driving her pickup truck full of mulch and manure,
April plants the sturdy vegetables like kale.
Despite late frost, the tulips will soon burst open
Gentler rains, and April may settle down for good.
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
Written April 11, 2021
for "April Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Certain weeks I’m busy
And I run around a lot
So I’m either in a tizzy
Or I’m wondering why not.
For when plans are sometimes lacking
You might think I’d just relax
But I sent those calm genes packing
And I’m antsy to the max.
Though, with age in the equation,
Staying home at times appeals
And I don’t need much persuasion
If the cold nips at my heels.
Yet it’s balance I am seeking,
Busy interspersed with not.
Too much either way I’m freaking
(Which I tend to do a lot).
Lurking in the darkest shadows,
she looks for one of us to hound,
trying to catch a little glimpse
as she staggers along and limps
Spittle and drool keeps dripping
from yellow teeth and snarling lips.
She whines and hunches her back
picking out one of us to attack.
Alone because she's made enemies
of those who once pitied her, but
she never let us howl our intentions
and blocked any effort of intervention.
With watchful eyes she tries to be sly
and has an ego that's rude and annoying.
She's always waiting for the chance
to trounce, then do her trophy dance.
She takes swipes and nips at our butts
when she thinks she has the upper hand,
but her whining doesn't matter to us.
Our pack calls her 'the ornery old cuss.'
Let her coo and take those falsetto bows,
and let her think she's a ruling queen,
but we all know she's just a looney hyena
while we laugh at her haughty demeanor.
^. .^
1/31/17
Poetry in an animal's view
contest by Jamie
When Crocodiles shoal in a watering hole they're collectively known as a 'float',
why not include clothes pegs, (though you won't lose a leg
and they never been near a boat)
They hustle and clatter , skins not coated in batter, in different hues, green, yellow, red,
there's a blue one, poor thing with a twisted wire spring
that's unused, I assume that he's dead.
From a bag under the stairs they will come out in pairs
although sometimes they will hunt in threes
when bedsheets they attack, though their jaws may just crack
when it fights them all off in the breeze.
If encountering a red one, for sure, you're a dead one,
it nips at your fingers and toes,
and when the timing is right it's a horrible sight on the tip of a young child's nose.
I can honestly state that they sometimes migrate
not a lot, since they always get caught,
but please, take it from me, that I can guarantee- on washdays you are always one short.
11th April 2018
For contest 'Bring to life', sponsor Shadow Hamilton
See how the wind's of March bluster, torment;
they break boughs and chase the fallen leaves.
Oh hear, the frozen garden bed's lament,
as twigs across the way skate 'cross the pond.
And, do you feel the goosebumps through your sleeves
and the chill of daffodil as it responds?
The buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn, attend
The wild wolf wind nips at spring's fragile tips
of infant green and willows which transcend
as they with golden blossoms grow rows high.
See the forsythia limbs, they bend and whip
but soon they'll dance beneath a clear blue sky
See how the wind's of March bluster, torment,
the buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn attend.
Catwalks
Crowd gawks
Wont style
Forced smile
Strike pose
Fake nose
Weird strut
Flat butt
Scant curves
Unnerves
Small-hipped
Lunch skipped
Stick-thin
Chagrin
Faux tan
Pecan
Plucked brow
Used plough?
Long lash
Bleached 'tache
Plump lips
Veiled nips
Waxed mound
Astound
Forebear
Despair
Sweet girls
Morph churls
Sly pout
Grim trout
Taut thighs
All lies
Make hot
Post-shot
Airbrushed
Not hushed
Mere gaud
Defraud
Model?
Twaddle!
- - - - - - - - - -
25 November 2017
For the "Footle Form - Sequenced or Stand-Alone" contest, sponsored by Brian Strand.
This soul must yield to a Master's hand
At path's end, with toil endured
Destined worth, its truth assured
As winters frost nips at the rose
Shorn from time, as cold winds blow
This soul must yield to a Master's hand
With source of light that guides my way
Beyond these shrouds before me lay
A peace, nor I could understand
This soul found hope with a Master's hand
Such repose within this heart I felt
With veneration, my will has knelt
The warmth of spring doth fill the air
As only one could answer prayer.
On the bed, my ginger cat settles
onto a pile of clean laundry, dryer warm
Feline steady stare, resolute
a strategy of possession
she relaxes the way prayer soothes
"Off!" I command. My cat an unwelcome bedded guest.
she whines, "Surely, he's bluffing!"
solidified
empowered
swollen in the pride of "I'm not moving!"
meows spewed like an anthem of resistance
I lift her from the pile,
my underwear dangles from cat claws
like cheap tinsel on a tree
she exits, her short lived reign
sulks into howls of whining
till dinner softens her rebuff
till wherever curiosity and comfort take her,
anew
My hope of co-habitation:
to calm the little woes of daily chores
to reduce cat prestige from shedded hair
to shrink feline non-compliance to a
manageable scale
Our social contract - a trade off
to reaffirm my status
to maintain the charade of "boss"
an unsteady footing
in the crushed aspiration of rule
Poem composed February 7/2022
The oyster's shell of succulent dawn
Burst open a suppressed exhalation yawn.
They had waited on the beach
To see the amber sunshine reach,
Huddled beneath a blanket each.
In their nude feet they walked.
They kept silent, with hands locked.
Darken clouds nudge intruding
leaving the day brooding.
Sweet brine whiff encouraged, as they listen.
Falling gracefully rain glisten.
A smile pulled at both their lips
Beneath umbrella they shared rain nips.
Rain resonating deep into the ocean,
Sand, and the lover's soul emotion.
11/10/2022
Inspiring Rainy Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
CHRISTMAS
For seasonal spice I was joyed to see
Our Japanese lights on the Christmas tree
Old Santa bulb fashioned so saucy and stout
We couldn’t imagine him ever burn out
A lean yellow lantern-man hung by his side
Another glass phantom who never died
Each twelve-month end when we screwed them in
Old Nips assumed their oriental grin
I swear those two quaint foreign boys
Were dearer by far than all my toys
I’d give most anything now to view
Our tree aglow an old time new
To hear Mom laugh Dad’s riotous cheer
When the pair lit-up for another year
Nasty Aussies
Nasty critters do we have
Under the Southern Cross
Deadly Funnel Web Spider
Deadly Blue ringed octopus
Box jelly fish might get you (deadly)
Great white shark eat you too (nice fella)
Our Redback spider nips a bit (burns like hot coal)
And Possums in the loo (toilet)
A Pelican will blurt on you (whitewash)
Cane toads come in the house (poison glands on back)
Sand goannas sucking eggs
Roo’s will punch you out
Pussycats they are perhaps
Paralyss tick gets you
Short arm snake attacks, gets slaps
The Shielas run off too
Don Johnson 15-may-11
Empty footprints in the snow, leave me wishing you are here
The miles feel so far right now, as you are not near
Cold air nips my face, as gray skies lay so far away
But there above me, blue skies find an open place to stay
Scattered with wisps of clouds, the snow no longer falls
Just what’s left beneath my feet and all these thoughts that flow
The wishes you could know, all that I hold on tight inside
Especially for you, as my heart continues to hide
Maybe you will see these clouds, float by where you are
And then you’ll see my wishes, with the next shooting star
Heidi Sands
12/4/19
Part of me disappears
without me knowing
Can’t reap a blessed thing
no clue what I was sowing
North wind nips buds of yesterday
icicles freeze every flower that sways
The brain desires to work overtime
while a haze swirls round
~ ‘Tis not a victimless crime