Best Plains Poems
Left tall and dry, lies the pillared maize forsaken.
Barren fields of corn, stand row by row.
When yellow ears have long been gathered,
a dusty crop has paid it's garnered due.
The dry stalks bend and dangle stiff remains,
and autumn winds return to whip batons and play.
The quiet fields tune harps and violins,
making harmony from husks, with swaying stalk refrains.
They thundered across the fertile plains,
Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes,
But now the Buffalo can't be found.
They thundered across the fertile plains.
The long grass has vanished from the ground
Where cities and highways now abound.
They thundered across the fertile plains,
Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes.
Upon the waters waiting still,, a scudding duck decends.!
Dragonflies hover over blossoms and leeches deep,
Geese shake their heads, as they are passing the fronded willows, in verdant pleats
Hissy hiss is all they say,with their blatant contempt for the lush summers day!
The ganders enjoying their swaggering time on this fecund month of may.
While on meadow banks are waxing longer the source of septembers hay
Near lily pads
A gaggle of goslings go
Deep yellow fluffing they bob
Eyes on mom stay (close)
Egrets stream like banners
( Art white) on aqua skies.
Joe Maverick for Constance La France's four beautiful birds contest.
copyright may 2011
Painted ponies
across the plains;
splashes of color
against an azure sky;
an equine convention
in the clouds.
Stratospheric
abstracts meet
with colors to produce
ecstatic paintings.
Nature’s canvas
is everywhere and
She paints life
with vigorous
enthusiasm.
The cow lows to her baby as night falls
A cricket gaily chirps there is nothing wrong
A little frog croaks as I walk by the stream
A whip-poor-will calls from a near by grove of trees
A screech of the eagle as he balances on the wind
The yip yip of the kit foxes as they play by their den
The cooing of the dove as it calls to it’s mate
The beller of the bull as he declares his space
The grunting of a mare as she gives her colt a bath
The thumping of a rabbit as he crosses my path
The rattle of a snake warning he is close by
The hoot hoot-hoot of a skunk says he’s nigh
The call of the red winged black bird as he settles on the reeds
While the blue jay called me a thief, as from my garden he gets his seeds
Mr. Owl brought a smile as he said hello
For you see we have spoken before
The chatter of the squirrel as he scampers through the trees
As the wind gently rattles it’s leaves.
The bark bark of the prairie dog as he bobs up and down
The splash of the raindrops is a soothing sound
The rustle of the brush as the quail pass
The kill deer tries to tempt me away from his nest.
The call of the coyote begging for the moon
And from a near by lake the call of a loon
With a tear in my eye I thank the Lord once again
That He has given me one more night to enjoy the Lullaby of the Plains.
The Great Plains
Vast expanse of land,
Virginal, pure, and yet shaped by man’s hands,
A rich and lustrous corn carpet,
An open land with distant horizon
Where man’s green fields and nature’s blue sky meet
Cows and deer fearlessly frolic
On man’s earth, bucolic
With the long spidery electrical wires,
The tall water sprinkler towers
That the cornfield requires
Lone truckers headed to distant cities,
With microwaves, shoes, juice boxes, and other nitty-gritties
Loaded with goods of everyday need,
Unable to ignore this picture painted by man
Cruising at a ginger speed
In this isolation, man’s cares are forgotten,
He abandons his city life rotten
Incredible peace gently seeps,
The deep, satisfying solitude
For an eternity in his mind he keeps
He will again roam the vast land with a new sense of freedom,
Re-live his life as sacred
Such are the magnanimous Great Plains of this wondrous land,
Which bring tears to my eyes
Dumbstruck, on this land of numerous possibilities I stand.
_____________________________________________________________
Inspired by a cross-country Amtrak trip from New York City to Kingman, AZ
Fears ensnared within the winter drifts along the harden ground
One lone ember stares off yearning for heaven brothers
As I watch its simple battle for survival from dust of ashes gray
To tombs that lie stone in forever twilight slumbers
In my sleepy hollow head like a saddened tune on flute play
I hear further, farther days ahead and think them some great enemy
But, louder are the years which shall follow as if it’s greater dread
So I return to thoughts outward of the plains lullaby instead
Outside the winds lost are moaning singing a sacred song
Warning, crawling like shadows long, carry astral visions rolling in
Caught like prey dancing in the trees by guardian dream catchers
Shamans of the din, their medicine cleansing, sweeping away village sin
The ember grows brighter as I feel the warmth on my Ojibwe people all around
Sounds of the old man elder still breathing, rhythms of the ceremonial drum
Hearst beating over silence of the coming whites waiting to steal away the clouds
And their cold tracks of steel lying like death dividing up the rivers run
Still I listen, to the plains that speak in nightless lullabies
So the cricket’s lie dormant the buffalo’s wintry song is a bolder snore
Like clouds upon the desert floor, beneath the watchful eye of the snowy goddess moon
Ghosts of warriors galloping across the plains looking for their home
So, I call out whispers to them “here we are” adding to the Algonquin tune
Smiling with eyes closing, I watch the ember stronger glowing hearth
Empowered by life, the gift of the Great Spirit, mountain coyote serenading love of light
And mother lays her hand across the plains tucking in all her children of this Earth
With this I sleep sounder for awhile longer
Although, knowing all things must end with death
But, the spirit will live on and on
Across the plains in its lullabying song, like the winter's breath
As the sun turns blood Red in a dark empty sky, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by,
Of biblical proportions much blood to be spilled, revelations played out and prophecies fulfilled,
Then along the horizon God's angels I seen, as mankind wished that somehow the slate they could clean,
But the Earth's being flooded by the tears angels cried, as the dead and the living they stand side by side,
And the falsest of prophets does rise from the East, and he carries three sixes, the mark of the beast,
As to deal with the carnage all mankind does try, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by,
So the battlefield's set and the war will be waged, the season finale of life to be staged,
All the major contenders are playing their part, Armageddon loom's closer,the fights set to start,
As the good and the wicked they fight for their worth, the mother of all battles begins on the Earth,
And the rivers rum red with the blood of the slain, as brother fight's brother like Abel & Cain,
And as fire & brimstone rains down from the sky, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by.
Native
American
medicinal drug store-
a boutonniere of daisy
petals.
The plains have become a quilted patchwork
Dotted with combines, tractors and trucks
the fall harvest is loaded in the bins
Harvest complete for another season
The evenings now pick up a chill
The sun's light fades earlier with seasonal change
Birds that adorned the trees have taken flight
Heading south with early mornings light
Flocks of birds gather near watering holes
Finding bits of grain left on the fields
The greenery of summer fades into past
While autumn's bold colors show
Leaves cascade to the earth below
Soon to be covered by winter's snow.
10/8/13
On These Plains I Lay
White fire and heat, blinding light, blinding bright.
Shot down on these plains,
My soldiers, My warriors,
Fading from my sight.
Battle lost? Battle won?
Battered men, moaning in the morning sun.
I believe I am dying,
Not too old, definitely too young.
Fading. Now floating.
Moving forward to the light.
A pull on my cloak.
My eyes closed, but open to this sight,
of a man in kilt,
Arm outstretched to mine.
I reach for his hand, battle scarred
for all time.
My eyes closed and still,
but I see his face clear.
I know this man. I fought this man.
Still he calls me near.
"James" he beckons.
"Its Charles of Culloden, the man you spared."
"In the moor,
on the field in Scotland".
Indeed I did,
this Jacobite I spared,
This wounded Fraser,
laid down in despair.
Cumberland's' order gave no dignity,
Gave no honour,
to this brave Scot.
He was not my fodder.
Why are you here,
my mind speaks in silence.
This "Fraser" replies,
Men of honour have earned this quietness.
Walk with me, to our God, to our Saviour.
Pay no heed to this battle.
You have fought. You have died,
with honour and with favour.
Come to heaven and stand with pride.
Your life distinguished, and now time to rest,
beside our saviour.
By His side.
I reach out to grasp,
this Jacobite Fraser.
He holds me, and comforts me,
on our way to heaven,
on our way to our Saviour.
And now I rest.
Graham Alexander Devenish
Thunder roars on plain
Not thunder storm, but
Hooves Of buffalo
prizes on the left
ended on the right,we wish
carry us,oh faith
Endowed with miraculous blessings of Nature
Astounding plains and valleys, mountains and oceans
Raindrops, and clouds, plants and trees,
Tangerine sunset, ruby-red dawn
Harmonious life flows like a meandering river.
May 13, 2021
For Planet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
FIRST PLACE
Brian Strand August Poetry Contest
The climb was gentle
As the rose
Caressed by the bee.
The blue hills
From whence come these waters
Range on either side of us
Guarding the ancient secrets
Of the vast plains
Touching this lake here
And those far away
To the right and south.
How the plains love each other!
Whether rich with grass
Or richer with wheat
They gently merge into each other
And lose their greyness
To the hills further away
Than the eye can see.
Those that love not the plains
Have no love of their own!
Each plain with a cloud of its own
Sailing by and shading the plain
From the harshness of the sun
And occasionally floating away
Into the hills beyond
To return charged with rain.
The plains are pregnant with memory:
They will tell you of invasions
From beyond the hills
Via the pass to your right
Where the iron snake
Made its lasting appearance;
They will tell you
How, long ago,
The invaders stood stunned
As the earth heaved
And the plains sunk
To beyond a spear throw.
The plains thanked their god
And flourished with growth.
They spread endless
And sealed a vow
To share the shores of the lakes.
In later years the plains
Summoned subterranean force
And Mt Longonot stood guard
Should the invaders return.
These things we saw
As we descended into lovely grassland
Where cows are in calf
All the year round
And milk never wanting.