Best Pheasants Poems
On the day our eyes open to the prism of the sun
On that day, Winter solitude would be gone
The avalanche of differences melts into nothingness
Through the same breath,through the same soul
We would live again as one ,no matter who we are
No matter the colour of our skin,Gay or straight
rich or poor,innocent or once found guilty.
No matter if We are lawyers,prisoners,doctors,drug victims or pheasants
No matter our political believes ,nor our different religions
A catholic,a muslim,a buddhist , a hinduist,or a jew .
On that day,we would all wear identical dresses
We would all be the significant other ,because He has died,
and He has died for all. Jesus died for Peter,John and Judah
for Lazarus and Maria Magdalene, Jesus died for me ,
He has died for you ,for him ,for her,and even for them.
He gave up till the last drop of blood and painful cry
for each and every name engraved upon our Father's palm.
He was born to die,but its not his death that we celebrate ,
We celebrate His life ,because we believe in life
We celebrate His forgivness ,because We experienced
the beauty of forgivness ,the happiness ,the return of blissful joy.
and , We celebrate the ever present love
Because it is the gift of love that He bestowed on us
Jesus was born to die , but He was born to rise
Upon death He has risen , through His death We survived
Because of Him , in the darkness ,in the labyrinth of our night
There will always,always be the little flicker of a candle
that fills our hearts with hope ,and warming light.
Categories:
pheasants, blessing, easter, forgiveness, jesus,
Form:
Free verse
Out of the burrows and hedges and dreys
Heads began bobbing and eyes were agaze.
Rumours were twittered and grunted and squealed:
‘The combine is coming to harvest the field!’
The moles and the voles and the rabbits and hares
All hurried and scurried and scattered in pairs.
The hedgehogs and ladybirds, pheasants and shrews
Did all that they could to distribute the news.
Then all made a dash for old wise badger’s sett;
The only safe refuge in face of the threat.
There, in the deep hollow they felt the vibration
They shivered and shuddered in great trepidation.
The thrumming and thundering monster machine
Soon passed overhead... and then all was serene.
And out of the hollow came heads, tails and paws
Another day safe from the harvester’s jaws!
Most recently entered into 'Your Best Rhyme Poem That Is Trophy Worthy Contest 3 Poetry Contest' sponsored by Tania Kitchin - 05.10.19
I chose this poem because not only is it one of my personal favourites, but to this day, I've no idea where all these little creatures came from! Written early on in my poetic endeavours, it made me appreciate fully the amazing powers of the imagination!
'A rattling rhyme contest' sponsored by Nina Parmenter
12/08/18
04/12/18
'I cannot believe I wrote that Poetry contest' : sponsored by Nina Parmenter
Your Choice,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand
Categories:
pheasants, angst, animal, fear, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea,
There is an archipelago on the blue water crescent,
A group of islands, called Philippines,
Encircled by a girdle of gleaming silver,
With its shores of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep;
A land of green vegetation and terraced terrain!
It houses picturesque and breath-taking views.
Vast beaches of ivory sand sprawl before our eyes
Dolphins leap over seafoam, palm fronds wink
Soft breezes waft and cotton clouds float above.
Anyone will fall in love with these tiny strips of land,
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and celestial monarch birds,
Of strutting peacocks, pigeons, pheasants, and parrots.
The powdery white sand of Boracay
The Chocolate Hills of Bohol
The Caraballo Mountain ranges,
And the Cordillera Mountain chain of Luzon,
The Rice Terraces of Philippine Cordilleras
All these give the country a solemn investiture.
Volcanic peaks, standing mighty and tall,
Proudly line the landscape, dotted with dense forests
Where birds sing melodies and Tarsiers with bug eyes
The tiny primates, endemic to the Philippines roam and jump
Amid the slumbering hills, there is fecund soil,
Turned into orchards and plantations,
Its population with perseverance and patience
Work in the soil relentlessly and in unison.
Well known for their hospitality, they receive tourists,
And outsiders with warmth and camaraderie.
In this paradise of mixed fortunes, tragedy comes unforeseen,
In the form of natural calamities like typhoons and cyclones,
But nothing can tear the people apart and they prosper,
With resilience, bent on sustaining their tradition,
Adding value to it each day and proud of an identity of their own
This beautiful land of velvet waves and crystal sands
Lying as a pendant in a crescent of emerald cluster
Rightly deserves the title- the 'Pearl of the Orient'
Categories:
pheasants, beautiful, nature, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
An English Life
It is midnight the Milk train pulls into darnall station
No ordinary passengers here
Steelworkers with their families
Loaded with fishing tackle, sandwiches and maggots
The Fossdyke in Lincolnshire, their destination
The fare Half a crown for happiness
The long walk in the dark,
A stairway to heaven in my memory
Dawn on the Foss and a cup of tea,
Fever in the blood, the first eel of the day
Our cane rods lovingly handed down from father to son.
I remember, Pheasants looking for mates
Shrieking their songs of love
Swans begging for scraps
Their majestic white necks, nodding,
A greeting into their kingdom
The mist off the water revealing families,
being together, laughing, enjoying what was free.
For tomorrow the grime returns.
A conversation with a stranger then out of a bag,
The rabbits, sometimes hare, sometimes pheasant.
Onions and carrots, shortly follow
The smell, forever linked with summer
The scent of my childhood
Summers were hotter then;
At times I drank the Foss, for I was nature’s child
Being clean was never a priority,
Catching fish was, never killed always returned,
Our Covenant with Nature.
For it is the sport that we honour.
And with age comes reflection,
Poor I may have been, my education neglected
But I have a Doctorate in nature, for I have seen the dawn
Away from the factories, where the pheasant runs free
And where the swan reins king, I was part of them.
It was here I learned what family was,
To share, my last drink of pop with my neighbour,
A simple life, maybe, but what a life
For I have seen what Constable painted
Lived every word that Wordsworth wrote
Understood the Fragrance of the Flowers
And revelled in the poets dream.
I loved every colour, every sound, every scent,
And every fish I ever caught.
Father and mother are gone now,
Never complained about their Station in life,
For they found paradise on the Foss.
They left me the seeds to their heaven
And the key to my happiness
A key forged in a mans worth
To open up my soul to the beauty
That surrounds us all.
Dawn on the Foss, was my church
My soul was cleansed here
And my heart was shaped here
My memories kept safe here
And the Foss fever still resides here
I will die on some bank side, one day
Rod in hand, and I will be content,
So Tight lines my fellow Anglers.
Categories:
pheasants, childhood, happiness, passion, education,
Form:
Free verse
Today's children text on cell phones,
instruments of incalculable knowledge.
And yet, most have never seen a starry sky,
flickering fireflies, pheasants in flight;
or a cocky rooster strut about.
Their reality consists of emojis,
designed to feed social media's insatiable appetite.
Today's children have never seen a cow or a plowed field;
they buy their vegetables, meat, and milk prepackaged
off the shelves of grocery stores;
having never been on a farm.
They spend all their time surfing the internet,
addicted to their iphones and computer screens;
soliciting likes from fictitious fickle friends.
Today's children air-kiss, hoping to go viral;
quantity trumps quality when you number your friends.
And even if a few friendships are genuine,
they'll unlikely ever meet in the flesh.
Eye contact and handshakes are so blasé
they've been relegated to the distant past;
inside alternate realities, today's children live in isolation.
Categories:
pheasants, 10th grade, allusion, community,
Form:
Free verse
Snow has spread a canvas
over the forest floor,
and I see how alive
the woods are:
tracks tell the comings and goings
of furry and feathered things.
The foxes have walked on the ridge,
their trail straight with purpose –
unlike the squirrels’ Brownian motion.
The pheasants have printed arrows;
perhaps
I shall follow
their directions -
who knows to what treasure
they may lead?
December 26, 2017
Categories:
pheasants, nature, winter,
Form:
Free verse
I am he, your Lord of heaven above
I am he, who gifts you life and love.
I am my own competitive opposition
I gift you death and cruel acts of precision.
For I am God, the sole creator of all
For I am the devil, to whom my prey will fall.
I can give you breath, And a beating heart
& just as easily, In death I can bring your life's depart
But unbeknown to man,
they do not think I am just one and all.
choosing to believe God as good
And Satan as evil In any bad downfall.
Through fear of unknown,
& what is to eternally be
They choose to believe,
if I'm God I'll set their soul free.
It's those weak and afraid
To believe in the gift I gave to them life
My intentions were for them to gain strength
Only to believe in himself through struggle & strife.
It's only those manly enough
To not worry thereafter their death.
Who live their life in the moment
Enjoying the very meaning of their given breath.
These are the strong souls
That appreciate without greed.
Not living by fear of their actions
In hope for much more in death they plead.
I admire a strong mind,
the almight & bold
And these are my angels;
True hearts made of gold.
Not like these pheasants,
who now beg & pray,
With only thought for himself,
That in death it will pay.
By Anna Sabrina Tate 23/01/2016.
Categories:
pheasants, birth, corruption, creation, fate,
Form:
Free verse
I am all of above and below
I am he, your Lord of heaven above
I am he, who gifts you life and love.
I am my own competitive opposition
I gift you death and cruel acts of precision.
For I am God, the sole creator of all
For I am the devil, to whom my prey will fall.
I can give you breath, And a beating heart
& just as easily, In death I can bring your life's depart
But unbeknown to man,
they do not think I am just one and all.
choosing to believe God as good
And Satan as evil In any bad downfall.
Through fear of unknown,
& what is to eternally be
They choose to believe,
if I'm God I'll set their soul free.
It's those weak and afraid
To believe in the gift I gave to them life
My intentions were for them to gain strength
Only to believe in himself through struggle & strife.
It's only those manly enough
To not worry thereafter their death.
Who live their life in the moment
Enjoying the very meaning of their given breath.
These are the strong souls
That appreciate without greed.
Not living by fear of their actions
In hope for much more in death they plead.
I admire a strong mind,
the almight & bold
And these are my angels;
True hearts made of gold.
Not like these pheasants,
who now beg & pray,
With only thought for himself,
That in death it will pay.
By Anna Sabrina Tate 23/01/2016.
Categories:
pheasants, bereavement, birth, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
The Wolf
The wolf guards her brood,
Bones of trespassers before,
Death to the unwarned!
My snarl says it all,
The wolf rules this land, no doubt,
Tread lightly, my friend.
The lone wolf unleashed,
Don’t trust the strange traveler,
Trust is never free.
The Fox
The fox senses spring,
The hound is too tired to fight,
Conflict delayed, friends.
The hound hides in wait,
"How smart are you, Miss Foxy?".
Nature in action.
The fox loves to play,
The hound takes his role to heart,
Frustration sets in.
The Coyote
The coyote sleeps,
Wild pheasants roam peacefully,
Hunger soon brings death.
Sunset brings brown death,
The rabbit tastes too gamey,
A nice change of pace.
A cry in the night,
The coyote is a force,
Mutual respect.
Original work written for
The Contest:
“PD’s INNER ANIMAL” ¤¤ 7th Place ¤¤
By: Samual Ronthorpe
If you enjoyed this, I have an expansion to the "Fox" section of this poem, it is titled, "Miss Foxy and Hound".
Categories:
pheasants, animals
Form:
Haiku
Mushrooms
and
meadows
Sunshine
and
shadows
Gentle
ripples on
the calm
river
Foaming
rapids in
white
water
The jungle
echoes in
the semi-
darkness
while
daylight
creepy
crawlies
clear the
mess.
Peasants
seen
toiling and
pheasants
go
scratching
as I spy a cricket kinda'
somersaulting
The cactus in
imagination, the
desert's prickly
femmefatale
Elsewhere a lone fallen
leaf
floats in the canal
Prairie dogs go popping
while hares go hopping
But in town, ladies go
shopping
Swans have formed a V-
line
The flora is ooh yes
divine
and bees they form a
bee-line!
Seista seizes birdlovers
too
They miss out on the
hoopoe's
song
for the hoopoe it does
not sing
on cue
since a bird may sing
anytime
to woo
Gosh what a contrasted
medley became of the
scenery
Town and jungle, the
eve's
murk or dawn's greenery.
Ah wherever you go
nature's
so panoramic
Painters paint pictures
but God
actually created what's
picturesque!
Categories:
pheasants, creation, nature,
Form:
Couplet
They danced and they turned and they tumbled
In wind, how it sighed and it grumbled
With force, how it howled in its fury
But still they bore no trace of worry
In cool autumn winds they cavorted
My foot! How they laughed and they sported
They flew through the air just like pheasants
Till set in my excellent presence
“Red Leaf,” quoth I unto the leader
“To fly, there is nothing more neater
But weren’t you the least bit affrighted
As thus from the breeze you alighted?”
“Dear sir,” quoth the leaf as he flitted
“To fear, for a leaf ain’t permitted
We’re taught from a bud in the cradle
That even a crash isn’t fatal.”
“I say,” quoth I unto the yellow
“You seem to be such a neat fellow
I wonder how likes you this sporting
Or if you a damsel are courting?”
Quoth he, “All this sporting is splendid
The days of my courting are ended
My lover has flown to the northward
While I am constrained to fly southward.”
Before one more word could be spoken
The peace of that moment was broken
Away flew those leaves o’er the treeses
Borne by the chill autumn breezes
October 25, 2012.
For the contest, Up in the Autumn Air. Second place.
Categories:
pheasants, autumn, funny, nature, seasons,
Form:
Personification
< encircling mountain's crest... the mighty eagle .. soars
amidst wetlands standing erect the blue huron
toppling muskrat homes waiting for mice and shrews
colonies emerge shrub trees and lagoons to bond
butterflies flutter medows of greenish hues
snaphots taken afar this is all I could do
catails ~ sway ~ sounds ~ thunder
pheasants fly off in frenzy
braided and despaired
yet forges right on ahead
they live see another day
night ~ time's ~ calling ~ for ~ the ~ wise ~ old ~ owl
bidding feathered friends well ado's
A combination of Monoku, Quintain {English }
Tanka & Crystalline For
Constance LaFrance's For {Four } Beautiful Birds Contest
Written by Katherine Stella
5/8/2011
Categories:
pheasants, adventure, animals, caregiving, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
Mother Nature is an artist!
She really has no peers!
Her masterpiece is, Autumn!
Has been for years and years!
Just pause, and take a conscious look,
at Autumn's scenic view!
Blazing colors, bright and bold!
red, orange, and yellow, too!
The Harvest Moon shines brightly!
Orange pumpkins, all around!
The Autumn breeze, blows gently,
as the leaves, fall to the ground!
Barn Owls, gather in the night.
Turkeys and Pheasants both abound!
Cobs-of-corn in multitude,
lie on the leafy ground!
Geese in V-formation,
seeking a warmer clime!
Cicada and the Sassafras,
prove it's Autumn time!
Crickets chirping, all around,
piercing the Autumn air,
you know it's "Indian Summer",
'cause their sounds are everywhere!
It's time to sit, around the fire,
to enjoy the stirring sights,
drinking coffee and hot cocoa,
to counteract the chilly nights!
Enjoy this beauty, while you can!
Such a colorful array!
You know, it won't be all that long,
till Winter comes our way!
Categories:
pheasants, autumn, beauty, color, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Can't seem to get off to sleep tonight, thoughts buzzing around my old head,
It's dark and quiet, the cat has gone out and the street lights have gone out too,
The odd car passes by maybe coming home from friends or a night on the town,
Could be on the way back from a restaurant a Chinese, or picking up family?
Looking at the calender I see we are getting into mid March and days are longer,
Could it be that the winter has lost its sharp teeth and the might of frosts gone,
A thousand welcomes to Spring but it cannot bring back youth or thicken my hair,
Or enable us to offer the first gathered violets to dear souls in their heavens.
The fowled of the farm yard lay, the pheasants crow in the copse the ring dove coos,
The linnet and the gold finch sing while man looks to fences and drains and water levels,
Next is ploughing and sowing, pruning and planting and talking of good years gone,
Spring stirs all with her mighty influence from the depths of the soil and heart.
So spring is with us and she will throw off one dark and gloomy coat after another,
And spring will chase away winter with his hardly wrinkled face and keen eye for beauty,
It is march rough yet pleasant, vigorous and strong with hope and strength and lovely voice,
His gales will come rushing and sounding over forest and lea and shake nature wide awake.
The tacamahac shows off its long furry green catkins, the mezereon its clustered blossoms,
Then the splendid red China rose unfolds itself to the fresh air, and green pastures return,
Coltsfoot and cardamine embellish old fallows and the star of Bethlehem gleams in the woods,
Crocus spreads around like a purple flood over the old established meadows, spring is sprung.
Categories:
pheasants, nature, old, spring, winter,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Masquerading
as though
fashioned from cloisonné;
cocksure pheasants striking arrogant
poses
Categories:
pheasants, bird, nature, seasons,
Form:
Cinquain