Best Quails Poems
When...
Apples Ate Apes
Bananas Beat Bullies
Courage Conquers Cowards
Dolls Do Dances
Eggs Eat Everyone
Fears Freeze Fate
Grapes Greed Gold
Happiness Holds Hearts
Ignorance Is Irregular
Jack Joy Jill
Kicking Kangaroos KO
Liquor Likes Laziness
Mayhem Makes Merry
No-one Nails Notes
Oranges Omit Oats
People Pretend Peace
Quiz Quails Quickly
Royalty Raids Rome
Soccer Soars Skies
Teddies Turned Terrible
Umbrellas Unite Uglies
Very Violent Violets
We Win Worlds
X-mas Xeroxes X-ray's
Yelling Yoda's Young
Zany Zebras Zap
When... ABC met Me...
The sunniest island,
with its Sea Stacks standing out
of the Tyrrhenian Sea,
shimmers as sailboats glide
in timeless serenity...
Paradise's duplication in man's heart.
Winter brings no drifts of snow,
only mild breezes from Sicily,
and the tourist is always on the go,
exploring, discovering and wondering
how this small island came to be...
when God stopped and began creating.
The sunniest island
with pastel houses perched on cliffs edges,
and ruins of castles and villas on rocky hills;
the loveliest island
in the Mediterranean garden...terraces
decked with common brooms and oleanders.
And as the mists vanish towards evening,
the quails are seen flying above, while the lemons'
perfume is hard to resist...the beautiful landscapes are revealed;
sail away in the bluest sea ever seen by the human's eye...
spend the starriest night gazing over its glistening waves:
a traveler's dream realized in the sunny island of Capri!
An alligator always ate addax and antelopes.
Baby bats began bouncing before burping
Caterpillars climb cable crossings carefully
Dingos don't dine delicately during dinner.
Eager elephants enjoy easily eating eggplants
Funny frogs finally find flipping fun
Granny goat 's girl got green grapes
Healthy heavy happy hippos hate horrendous heat
Iguana is inhaling icky insects
Jolly Joey Jumps joyfully juggling jelly jars.
Kevin's kangaroo keeps kicking kids
Lions like long-legged little llamas
monkeys making magical music
Nightingales nest neatly nearby
Olly's old Ostrich outruns others
Polly parrot playfully peck puppies paws
Quick quirky quails quarrel quietly
Robert's rascally rabbits racing raccoons
Slinky slimy snakes slither slowly
Tony the Tiger tasted termites.
Unusual Ukari understands us
Voracious vicarious vultures visibly vibrate
Walruses wobble while wiggling wildly
x-ray tetras want worms
Young yellow yackety Yaks yawn
Zealous Zany Zesty Zebra
The distinguished guests arrive
And sign the book.
The prima donna,
Wearing tight slippers and a jade necklace,
Warms her voice with a few scales:
Do, Ra, Me
Do, Ra, Me
The diva sings as soulfully as a sparrow.
Her heart is bursting all over.
Mozart approves and claps;
He is a phantom of the opera.
Finally, the crowd disperses
Like dry tea leaves blown by a solstice wind.
The evening was a success.
All who attended are as satisfied
As a covey of quails in a corn field.
Someone comments about the weather--
Says it is mundane.
More down to earth,
The janitor wipes fingerprints
From the arms of chairs
And weeps.
Mountain soften the gawp of sun
far beyond the boondocks,
where the fog plays in stillness,
‘fore the banties arouse the glade
When life came to Bottom Land
bare feet stomped common paths
Between the tall oak trees
echoes stood for seconds,
as tiny voices cartwheeled
from hanging rocks that bite into the dell
The Good River lend a hand, Big Sandy,
to water the Bottom Land,
three acres that fed nine mouths
and satisfy our bellies
When the snow turn up,
and pile high on the new year,
like cotton on a mule cart,
Pap wore rags to keep his toes;
we count ten in early spring
When God send Roosevelt and the WPA,
Pap wore cow hide boots like men ought to
The log cabin was heaven; we lived like gods
In winter, we listen to the hissing of burning
fir and pinewood, and Pap’s alluring hunting tales
Ma’s fried-green tomatoes and cornmeal pancakes
were more than quails falling ‘fore Mt Horeb,
and Pap was more than Moses,
We loved more than Israel,
far from the isle where milk and honey flow
TIME FLIES by Jeanette Jones
based on PORTRAIT NO 9
Morning at the Quay in Venice by Helen Allingham
TIME FLIES
Early still, I rise again.
For the quails came calling.
Dragging my feet, I stumbled
across the room, to get a glimpse
before they get to far away.
The kettle’s on, brewing the tea,
to place in my flask.
Milk too for little Emily as we stroll along.
At the edge of the bay, our four feet dangle,
little Emily hums away; a nice beat to my
dream.
Small canoes, large boats with sails,
carry me away across the water.
Traveling up into the lighthouse,
I look over bay, watching the workmen,
out for the day.
Hours pass as I gather up to leave.
Little Emily and I, hand in hand,
we’ve just gotten here, must we go?
Good night Mr. Workman.
Good afternoon Ma’dam.
Walk side with me to a valley,
And we shall be yonder pleasures of heavens light,
Of whose firmament, hills, groves, shining woods presume wonder.
And we will weight off our feet upon the hills,
Seeing swains tends to their torn flocks,
Quails harping to harmonic tunes,
And we shall made mat of Ambrosia,
With fragrant from Acacia, Aster, Azalea and Arum,
A hat of Begonia and a Larkspur crème,
Cross-stich with the bark of yellow birch.
Which through our intimate loving lay rest,
A metal slipper for the snows,
With buckle fashioned from alloyed silver,
An apple from Janna,
If suited thee
Walk side with me to a valley.
The tunes of heaven shall we dance,
A coffee for your morning
If such picture delights thy heart, move
Walk with me to the valley, and be my Joy.
Abraham the father of the faithful
Barnabas the encourager so graceful
Caleb who believed victory to bring
David the shepherd boy became king
Exodus the book containing God's law
Felix reasoned with Paul found no flaw
Genesis tells of God's work of creation
Habakkuk rejoiced in God of his salvation
Isaiah prophesied the suffering of the Lord
Jacob succeeded in prevailing with God
Kidron brook where David from Absalom fled
Luke the gospel writer and physician well read
Matthew followed Jesus call to leave his tax
Nehemiah sought to rebuild city wall no time to relax
Obadiah a chief in house of king Ahab
Paul the chief apostle so very fab
Quails God's wilderness dessert to eat
Resurrection of Christ our heavenly seat
Satan hater of God's church constantly lies
Tomb from where Jesus indeed did rise
Uriah wrong by King David for Barsheba
Veil was torn it's meaning so deeper
Whale where Jonah was for days three
Xerxes was king when Esther set Jews free
Yoke which Jesus spoke of his being light
Zechariah was God's prophet to tell what's right
How delightful is the softest sound of a clear and starry summer's night,
You may hear a moth bashing up against a cottage window pane near a lamp,
If you listen really hard you can hear him amongst the many garden leaves,
A boom as the soaring cockchafer passes your ear, into the flowery lime.
The smallest runnel murmurs aloud as do the far rivers over the green downs,
The frogs deep in the marshes sound like they are turning a thousand wheels,
And the dorhawk, the cuckoo and the nightingale sing from meadows far away,
Quails pipe from the ripe green corn, curlews from the far away moorlands.
The sound of a little owl, hooting, he is small, smaller than the blackbird,
He hunts for food in the twilight of the evening, mewing shrilly like a cat,
The little owl lands in a back lawn, and his head swivels like a corn wheel,
It's a fierce little bird and will rid a garden of mice, rats and small birds.
The flowers are in the fields, scabious, companula, glomerata and some thrift,
The flowers in our gardens are borage, phlox, day-lily, gladiolas and many more,
Grasses that make mowing grass beautiful are perennial clover and goats beard,
Filling the air with sweetness that will make you heady and happy, great days.
Antisocial anacondas don't associate in numbers;
Bears and beavers don't become the best of friends.
Civet cats catch rats, so is it any wonder
On doleful dingoes dire dilemmas do descend?
Effete elephants eschew jumping, it's ungraceful;
"Frenching" frogs will never fetch nor wart nor prince.
Beware lest grim gaboons give you a face full;
Hyena's haunting laugh makes haughty hippos wince.
Iguanas ignorantly ignore sunscreen on their eyelids;
Jaguars judiciously adjure a jungle nook.
Kangaroos are kind of cute when they have cute kids;
In Lima llamas leap and lastly look.
Mountain lions may masquerade as pumas;
Nimble narwhal's noble spear's his joy and pride.
Opossums opt not to oppose those "play dead" rumors;
Prosaic penguins probably take leglessness in stride.
Quails quibble querulously in quorums;
Raccoons rinse their rations when they eat.
A snail can wreak some slimy harum-scarum;
Tarantulas tout tasty toads as treats.
Urutus usually undulate in jungles;
Vultures vainly vote for haute cuisine.
A wildebeest's a waggish work somebody bungled;
Xeric xenops don't exactly tan, they just stay green.
Yenta yaks may yell and yowl when they feel chatty;
Zany zebra's zoned in black, or white, if you prefer.
I pray this piece will play and not seem "catty",
SPCA's raucous ridicule I'd rather not incur,
For these bits of critterary trivia, A to Z,
Are things I never learned from Marlin Perkins*, R.I.P.
*For those of you, dear readers, who may not know, or who may not remember, Marlin Perkins was the host of the long-running NBC nature series, "Wild Kingdom", which aired on Sunday nights from 1963-1971.
QUAIL ARMY SONG
I don’t know but I’ve been told
No quail born ever gets old
It’s plain that we gotta fight
For each and ev’ry God-given right
To be quails and not hors d’oeuvres
It’s simply what we all deserve
We want quail houses with double glazing
Is that so very amazing?
And quail babies and quail mortgages;
And not to end up as quail sausages;
To pick up our old-age quail pension,
And not even have to mention
Ignominiously turning up
In a French mustard dip,
Like uncle Bert who met an early death
As pate on a singing soldier’s breath :
“47 Chevy and a tankful of gas,*
Quail liver pate kinds tastes like grass”.
………………………………………………………
*Plagiarised from HEARTBREAK RIDGE movie
(From my collection of Bird Poetry and Other Pretensious Crap"
Adam Actually Aced An Awesome Adventure
Bradley Boldly Baked Bad Beef
Christopher Canned Cut Cold Cuts
David Dunked Darla Dimple
Evan Ecstatically Escaped Every Eagle
Franklin Flipped Fat Franks
Gary Gerrickson Gave Gary Ginton Good Gooey Guavas
Harriet Had Hot Ham
Impish Idiot Igor's Island
Jerky Jared's Jelly Jammies
Kate's Kosher Kitty Kale
Leon's Lovely Lyrical Limerick :D
Marys Many Morbid Mail Men
Nana Nancy's Nonexistent Nymphs
Orange Orangutan Oliver's Oily Olive Oboe
Patty's Peabrained Puppys Pea
Queenies Quails Quest
Rad Raphael's Rolo Rapped "Red Robins Ripped Rose"
Samuels Sadsack Sister Sat
Totally Tubular Thomas Took Tammy's Tempeh
Understandable Underdog Ursula Unfaithfully Undertook Understudy
Victors Vamped Valiant Valour
Waldo's Weird Wolf Went Walking Wistfully
Xavier's Xeroxing Xylophone
Your Yakking Young Yolanda
Zacks Zippy Zapper Zapped Zeke
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Fourteen
Even sea-gulls mistake this lavish lap of water for sea
All day long their cries betray their delusion so eerie
Circling and swooping and settling on her deranged graces
Coming in with wild winds this day dismal and dreary
Cannon fire: a shot? Pigeons by the dozens take wing
Atlantic sea-gulls shriek and circle above her hovering
A squadron of bernache cravant takes to the air trumpeting
The alert blares loud: the Lady of the Lake is whimpering:
“Murder!” “Vile iniquitous act!” proclaim madly hopping crows
Shriek hell upon her tummy in motion: “Everybody knows!”
Grebes and coots dive to bring up the truth: “Dark purple poison!”
Behind tinted glasses Men of Paperasserie in throes.
Enticed inveigled lured to her fallen tripped entrapment
Her cervical and lumbar discs verily out of joint
No many-splendoured rays of the rising and setting sun
Reflect the rhododendron dews of her irises glint
Only the lone Bard of Nishapur hears her anguished quails:
“They see not the heinous hurt of the hills dug into dales
Nor drink they pure geothermal juices of the guts of the earth:
Here must I lie die till Sister Seine flows into my entrails!”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
A covey of quails
Decided to cross the road,
The brush was their goal.
He was born Alex Wanton Wells -
A healer of the incurable and a remover of spells,
Died chasing his insatiable appetite for quails;
He’s not there, for he kicked the pails!