Best Scampers Poems
one with the music
a vestibule for magic
love fills the night air
Let my aura deep red spill onto the page,
I an instrument in the name of poetic rage,
L
O
V
EVOL...VES
Into a voice deep and vibrating,
with words feathered and lulling.
We are love...
Love!,
nothing and everything.
With you in the serenity of nothing
that my love is everything.
scampers a bright moon
gifts liquid life a lit view
watch them rendezvous
i wrote you a star covered night
built you a sun with a dimmer light
i turned it down warm and low
called it a moon, made it glow
i rhymed you an early morning hush
so quiet you could hear a person blush
i sketched a fully carpeted globe
dressed it in a thick soft robe
i painted it in greens, blues and a palette full
your own flower garden with no weeds to pull
i sung some words, some harmonized notes
strummed you a new world, one that floats
...a pyramid each and every word, romance...
I
do know
my true love
it will make you
light headed but free.
Space is that way, you know
but you'll adjust. A small price
to pay these days for liberty.
A chance to live in a world of ours,
just us together and lives of all kinds.
Maurice Yvonne
Seasons Change Places
Thick fog scampers up steep hills in billowing tendrils
Ocean winds sweep in on heavy mists at sunset
Summer shivers as days grow shorter
Skies reflect amber, golden hues of twilight leaves
Autumn approaches.
8-21-21
Spring takes me for a long walk in the park:
with emerald trees
swaying in the breeze.
And I hear the chirps of a meadowlark;
sung to captivate,
and attract a mate.
A bushy-tailed squirrel scampers up a tree;
and then immediately starts scolding me:
and I can't help but smile.
The grass feels ticklish under my bare feet:
wet with drops of dew
as I wander through.
And after Winter's white, green is a treat;
a feast for the eyes
under clear blue skies.
A plethora of wildflowers is in bloom,
each blossom flaunting a colorful costume:
and I can't help but smile.
Inhaling a fresh breath of perfumed air:
my heart skips a beat,
for it tastes so sweet.
Spring's innate beauty is beyond compare:
wherever I go,
watercolors flow.
A time of jubilation and renewal:
for although Winter can be long and cruel;
Spring's super octane allows life to refuel.
I've walked about a mile:
and I can't help but smile.
I start my afternoon hike up a mountain trail.
October’s sunlight, the vestige of Indian Summer,
dapples my exposed skin with welcomed warmth.
Sun’s rays are gilded tendrils cutting through pines
whose needles’ sweet scent
I breathe deeply in.
I can almost taste the breeze as it rushes past,
waltzing through the many trees.
The sky, immersed in azure, is heavenly!
I imagine its clouds having been swirled by the wind
with which I wish I too were dancing.
Bright foliage surrounds me.
I am bedazzled by them as they ostensibly flaunt
hues of scarlet, rich amber honey, russet, and tangerine -
an ocean of windswept trees!
My destination is a pristine lake where new trees
shimmer - mirrored in its crystal blue.
One oak is so tall it seems like a steeple reaching upward.
Its limbs have formed an arbor which beautifies
the view that greets my eyes.
Acquiescing to enthrallment, I linger there
where tranquility’s quintessence abides,
inhaling October’s unique potpourri.
Dusk will soon swallow up the day,
so I begin my descent. Birds twitter; leaves whisper.
Seeing me, a timid rabbit scampers behind a bush.
Heaven seems fused with the terrain,
igniting my world with iridescence
as against a splash of persimmon, seagulls soar.
How I would love to glide home like those glorious birds.
Intoxicated by the rhapsody of colors,
I come to the bottom of the trail with just enough time
to reach my home’s comfort before night’s chill
envelops all.
Dec. 16, 2022
For Eve Roper's Still-Life Autumn Scene Poetry Contest
Sunlight scampers between
the twigs of naked trees.
And a web of shadows,
dance with each feisty breeze.
A sullied sun shimmers,
like cheap carnival glass.
And yet, this fickle Sun's
too weak for blades of grass.
Snow accumulates on
branches that almost break.
And bend low to the ground:
with the weight of each flake.
Sugar maple sap stalls:
not even one sweet drip.
And snowmen stop melting:
frozen in Winter's grip.
Spring's not on stage, quite yet,
She's waiting in the wings.
And yet, I can feel Her
tugging on my heartstrings.
Cat door swings open
Field mouse scampers in --
Tiny feet warmed
There you sit...you patiently wait...
thinking of which animal you want to sate...
Observing a fine fox, who favourable flirts...
with sexy green eyes and the shortest of skirts.
She spots a wolf and scampers his way...
asking him coyly, "Do you want to play?"
A teasing Tigress arrives on the scene...
licking her lips like you are ice cream...
Throws off her furs and bares her teeth...
de***ishly dares you to make a leap...
She purrs softly, "Mount if you wish"...
encouraging you with a tantalizing kiss...
The energy pulsating, reaching new heights...
bodies heavenly entwined as they take flight...
After some time, they reluctantly descend...
exhausted, sated and ready again.
An Autumn sunrise lights a maple tree
October’s hues are edged with olive green
The vibrant background cheers the season’s glee
The mountain ridges back the misty scene
Big bears are searching after mountain caves
While mallards fly before the snow begins
The ridges form astounding leafy waves
Where folks are cutting fully-grown pumpkins
The red hawk soars beyond the dew drenched morn
hence he denies to perch and lifts above
his flight creates designs the skies adorn
and dogs pursue raccoons around foxglove.
A lively squirrel scampers to and fro
Gray rabbits bounce amid the splendid leaves
And sparkling streams outrace the brownish doe
With the adieu of summer as she grieves.
Iambic Pentameter
August 8th, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle
O, sweet silence of Spring,
maple seeds rain down and I am
entranced by music from the trees.
Inhaling the fresh mowed grass,
after the drone of the Cub Cadet
I wake myself with a sneeze.
O, sweet silence of spring.
Squirrel scampers building its nest,
your winds scatter the dandelion.
Blessed you are with no prejudice
regarding weeds and “plants”
watering them all with oblivion.
O, sweet silence of spring,
your rest notes fill in the measures
of the birdsong, the day's invocation.
I rest my eyes on the beautiful
colors of tulips and peonies, becoming
engrossed in thoughts of renewal.
May 6, 2017
in grey apparel
scampers trees, skilled acrobat~
furry and frisky
Jan.2. 2022
Squirrel Haiku Poetry Contest
Robert James Ligouri
Rolling hills and dappling willows
Magnolias bordering each side
A mountain range set the background
Beneath a luxuriant bright blue sky
With wisps and trails of tiny clouds
The bright sunlight it dazzles my eyes
The blades of grass between my toes
These sensations make me realise
That within our minds we can create landscapes
And masterpieces of wonder and awe
A dog runs past, a aquirrel scampers up a tree
Butterflies fluttering everywhere I can see
Bees pollinating wild flows
I feel the freedom of beauty as I flows through me
We are artists we are designers
We are lovers living imaginatively.
My love wakes in the morning,
While the birds sing soft to hear;
The day springs from night's dreaming,
And summer's feet fling clear.
Life scampers through the meadows,
Daisies bloom beneath her feet;
The streams flow through the woodland,
With songs that are so sweet.
Branches laden with their fruit,
So low a limb could hold;
As harvest filled with plenty,
For a king in his treasure fold.
Life danced with all the shadows,
That were cast by her substance fair,
My love laughed in the morning,
As she lingered softly there.
Now she sleeps there in the twilight,
And my heart is filled with fear;
Her laughter lost in darkness,
And my joy died in a tear.
I whispered, "Rest while I am singing",
When shadows come at night;
Each fair blossom swinging,
With faint perfumed delight.
When the world is filled with laughter,
And the bird flies on the wing;
When man calls to the hereafter,
There's no song there left to sing.
Her life fades to a shadow,
Death loved her body fair;
My love smiled in her sleeping,
With no one but me to care.
Oh, how we watch a town go by!
Pieces of life
wrapped against the elements,
going somewhere,
always going somewhere.
From this upper window,
my eye is a searchlight,
sweeping the streetscape.
I celebrate my stillness
by remaining still,
stiller,
and stiller still,
holding my breath,
stilling my eyes till they sting.
I will my stillness
to fill me, envelop me,
hold me still from within and without,
a force pushing out and in,
creating an equilibrium for my soul.
And still the life below
scurries, scampers,
scuttles, skitters,
fizzes, bubbles, lives,
the quick and undead,
each destined
to be still one day.
(September 2021)
piper’s heart is full of joy
he scampers the water with joy
the brook gurgles a woodland greeting
balmy light wind twinkles leaves
they frolic in a lively happy way
the day is light, the minnows are dashing
piper scoops up some cool water and takes a drink
his hands are cold now, but worth it
there is a cough. He knows what it means.
He searches, but the woods are a great concealer.
He smiles as he glimpses the tiny white tail
of the deer as she bounds over a thicket
Winter Bows to Spring
In the midst of sullen cold
pink cherry blossoms burst open as winter bows to spring ~
yellow daffodils spring up from frozen icicles ~
white snowdrops vault through soils of howling storms ~
gold jasmina scampers up fences between winter's wildness ~
purple crocus stand tall midst blazing blizzards ~
rosy tulips push up past untamed storms ~
lavender glory-of-the-snows awakens in shivering snow ~
purple daphne spreads perfume to hoary frost ~
Heralds and harbingers of spring in the midst of winter
3-11-22
Contest: I Imagism
Sponsor: Constance La France