Best Scurried Poems
Dawn slowly awakened to supplant the moon
Empty, the canopy where stars had been strewn
In repose, Luna slept after wandering velvet skies
and spider webs shimmered in the flight of sunrise
Dew drops evaporated upon the fragrant tuberose
as a playful breeze billowed my sheer nightclothes
Seagulls swooped and scurried along amber shores
A salty crew grappled with the sea on labored oars
Muscles pulled in rhythmic chorus, as if in lyrical rote
as surging waves rocked the hull of their fishing boat
They surpassed each crest and triumphed over swells
The sun's prisms painted the horizon in muted pastels
Inspired by the milieu of ruffled swirls across the sea
sunlight dappled over its surface in sequenced litany
I sipped a second cup as thoughts were being seeded
Poetry spawned inside of me; a birthing to be heeded
For as driftwood hastens down rapids to a new frontier
I needed to ledger my verses, ere they hie to disappear
August 13, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Categories:
scurried, poetry, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
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:
scurried, angst, animal, fear, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m grateful for the sun
which shone on younger days
The days of scurried heartbeats
and butterflies of love
And for the carefree hearts
on beaches of my youth
The nights of clothes and cars
and bars of clubbing beats
I’m grateful for the sun
which lights the memories
of newlyweds with king sized beds
and never-ending dreams
And for all the glory days
I’ve lived and loved, gone by
Yet, as I know sun still
I’m grateful for the glory days of now
Categories:
scurried, appreciation, blessing, life, self,
Form:
Free verse
It was on a Kansas farm
I saw the beauty and the charm
as I sat gazing out across the hills
Not a car or man in sight
just a blue and cloudless sky
and the smell of barley wafting from the mills
A rabbit scurried fast
and a meadowlark flew past
and I could hear the quiet ripple of a stream
As the sun set miles away
I had hoped to keep this day
as I likened this adventure to a dream
As I lie upon the grass
with no rush to hurry back
to the city with its bustle in the street
I closed my eyes awhile
and in classic country style
I held a blade of wheat between my teeth
The ‘nothingness’ was there
yet it displayed a certain air
and the splendor of the tall grass was pristine
It was on a Kansas farm
that I found this scene of charm
and my heart rejoiced in all that was serene.
Categories:
scurried, farm, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
In the cool of the evening he laid there basking
as my fingers touched the gleaming surface of the pool.
Deeper i penetrated till my hand was beneath him,
slowly my fingers engaged his slithery belly,
then gently with a slight single movement
to and thro, then up and down
his whole body fully relaxed as he rolled a little
to accommodate me.
As he laid there his eye and my eyes connected
each of us wondering no doubt what the next move would be,
while carefully not to let my nose which was just above the surface
play any part in this my devious quest.
Suddenly a water skater bug came floating by
and decided to explore my nostril,
at this point making me sneeze, the force of the blast
sending the bug careering upon the surface.
In a flash swallowed by my impending supper
who then scurried away to the safety
of the rocky bed of the creek,
to become King Trout for another day.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
Categories:
scurried, adventure, food,
Form:
Narrative
One can hardly take a breath at all
For brilliance splashed against the wall
has reasoned with a summer's soul
and paints the season with vibrant gold
The brittle breeze as evening falls
is mixed with smoke from burning piles
of leaves we raked one afternoon
stacked high with colors bold and wild
Smoke whirls up high above the house
Each silent garden laid to rest,
As the close of day leaves nothing left
but crimson skies, and colors red
We can hear the music of the trees,
with rustling sounds, stained red and tan
While wind seeks out the apple tree,
And scents the air with celestial zest
The mighty oak drops acorns, freed,
Brown squirrels have scurried to their nest
They've stored a harvest from the earth,
We'll watch as geese form silhouettes
And when the trees are barren branched,
A world takes rest, to start anew
While autumn prances through the hills,
With stain ablaze in amber hues
The heart is filled with peace of mind,
As embers warm our home tonight
While weary gather near the flame,
This year at end, we bid adieu
One can hardly take a breath at all
For brilliance splashed against the wall
Has reasoned with a summer's soul
To paint the season edged in gold ......
__________________________________
10/27/16
Contest: Autumn Fire
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Categories:
scurried, autumn,
Form:
Free verse
WAIT!
the poet laughed
there's love to document
there's passion, there's hate!
WAIT!
where's my pen, my typer?
my life is my art
Living passed by and the world did it's thing, rotating, tilting, and changing
but the poet sat idle, conjuring thought
he dreamt aloud, awake
of simple times
he drank
he smoked, lied, and bargained
yet never put into motion
what realities he should have, could have sought
funny how it happens for the poet
poetically tragic, this nothing whatsoever
WAIT!
cried the overweight, medicated poet
cornered by walls of his own brain
such a creative mind wasting away
a mind with fingers
no friends, and without eyes
the Poet scurried, smelling rain one day
so he looked to the window and wrote "Thee Greatest Poem Never Spoke"
trees gave leaves to fall and winter gave way to crawl
then blew it's load
the poet spoke again,
WAIT!
these beauteous seasons are the very reason my pen leaks prolific ink of lines so great
then spring sprung
bells rang and flings flung
but the poet failed to dare to love
women and children and angels passed his tearful face
and he gasped
WAIT!
I must write and express and show this amazing grace
sadly summer came and went again
upon it's glorious exodus the poet wrote and wrote
more and more of stars he never saw
and of rain his skin failed to feel
and of things he could only imagine
tears of everything doused the poet's pale cheek and he ate the pain which enveloped him
dim lights appeared as a nightmare
and finally one bright light of tunnel vision sizzled his name
the name he'd long since forgotten
just like everyone else
wait...the poet whimpered
wait...
tho' fate
would not,
could not,
WAIT.
Categories:
scurried, death, life, poets, sad,
Form:
Free verse
Looking up into the sky
a bird pooped in my eye
as it was flying overhead
causing me to see red
It was warm and soggy
making me feel queasy
I scurried into the house
like an upset little mouse
I headed for the kitchen sink
and got there in a blink
Using the faucet spout
I tried to flush it out
When it was expelled
it had a funny smell
and the sink water
had a dirty colour
So when a bird is flying overhead
keep your head down instead
Do not look up into the sky
or you may get poop in your eye
Categories:
scurried, bird, color, humor, red,
Form:
Rhyme
It was Christmas time in Anansi’s house
But Anansi was snoring loud and deep
While all the house was up and busy
Sneaky Anansi was pretending to sleep
Anansi imagined lying on the beach
Soaking up some hot Jamaican sun
Christmas time with all its merriment
For Anansi was never, ever fun!
Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To not have fun at Christmas time!
Last year whist fixing the Christmas baubles
He was jumping up, extremely mad
Because all the baubles kept flying off
And the crooked angel looked very sad
When he tore off the wrapper from his gifts
He always hoped for a nice surprise
But every year his presents were the same
Eight pairs of socks and two colourful ties
Poor Anansi - the church bells’ chime
No fun for you this Christmas time!
And Christmas dinner was never enough
Because his wife entertained the whole town!
Cold scraps of dinner left on a plate
And a squeeze to find a spot to sit down
And playing party games was such a bore
Card games he never had the knack
Charades would leave him a little confused
Legs tangled with Twister or stuck on his back
Poor Anansi, you can bet a dime
No fun for you this Christmas-time
Never anything good to watch on TV
And the Queen spoke too posh and too slow
He didn’t even have a favourite book to read
Poor, poor Anansi with his Christmas woe
But there was just one thing about Christmas
That Anansi couldn’t wait to partake
Every Christmas his wife would prepare
The most delicious, scrumptious Christmas cake
Every year he sliced the biggest piece
Leaving his family to fight for the rest
Delicious, scrumptious with a scoop of ice-cream
This Christmas cake was always the best
Anansi made sure that everyone had gone
Before he scurried down for his Christmas treat
He looked in the oven, the cupboard the fridge
But couldn’t find any Christmas cake to eat
“Surprise,” said his wife from behind him
“We are having fruit salad for a change!”
Then she handed him a large Christmas bowl
Filled with tropical fruits of all range.
Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!
Categories:
scurried, celebration, children, christmas, kids,
Form:
Rhyme
Then I Opened That Door…
To The Question: “How was your Day?” came this response…
The other day I arrived at work and found my chair was gone. Oh the Horrors!
No way to rest at my desk. I looked and scurried all about for it.
Someone said to just grab another one. “Grab another one?” I queried?
I told them that this is no ordinary chair. It was special.
It was the legendary Chair that lays the Golden Eggs. And I did not stop there.
I had back and leg pain and someone named Billy Beanstalk found this chair for me.
He had gone thru his network of vines… I mean friends.
He talked to Penny Patty (middle name CowPie, but I digress).
And when she heard about my missing chair she had a cow.
No, really. She owned a real cow with farmland to spare.
Anyway, Billie had the beans to spread the word far and wide.
It caught the attention of Penny and the cow. The cow wasn’t talking. He was mooody.
Penny mentioned the penchant of Ogres with flagons from wagons,
Who lived in caves by the waves. (I am not making this up!)
They loved chairs by the pairs and tables with strange labels.
This story should not be confused with dragons with issues.
As I was saying, Billy and I were able to sneak into the Ogres Lair.
And inside I found my chair. How did I know it was my chair, you ask?
I didn’t put the label on the table; it was on the chair with the hair,
On the flagons were dragons, where the brew was true.
Billy and I will have to tell Penny and the cow about this. The cow still isn’t talking.
We proceeded to sneak the chair by the Ogres who slept by the hour.
It wouldn’t be nice to bring the Ogres awake by the lake,
That’s why there were waves by the caves.
So that is how we were able to retrieve my Chair that lays the Golden Eggs,
And I can finally rest my back and legs.
Really now, I did not make this up. It really happened.
About the cow, I think the Ogres had one too,
After they found they didn’t have an even pair of chairs.
Written by Hubby at the encouragement of Dragon and Wuffie Poo
Written 6-25-2015
Categories:
scurried, fantasy, fun, funny, happiness,
Form:
Light Verse
This Is No Picnic
We packed up the grill and my uncle took us to the lake
I was hoping for a burger, maybe even a juicy steak
Amazed was I to see the cooler packed with frozen shrimp
What kind of picnic is this? My smiling lips went limp
“Stop pouting,” said Uncle Tim, tossing me a fishing pole
“This here lake is filled with huge trout. It’s the best fishing hole”
If we wanted to eat lunch, first we would have to catch it
Seems his picnic invitation this info did omit
The hours dragged past and we hadn’t had a single bite
Our clan was growing hungry and grandma seemed uptight
So she took charge and lit the grill in spite of Tim's protests
But he could not do battle with her so he acquiesced
Mosquitoes were drawn to scents of shrimp on the barbecue
Then a horde of hornets found our camp and buzzed on through
We screamed and scurried about to avoid their bites and stings
Till Uncle Tim doused the grill and took us to Burger King
He ordered burgers to go, placed a blanket on our lawn
Till this day we still laugh at the antics we’d undergone
Written for Carol Brown's Picnic Time contest
Categories:
scurried, family, funnyfishing,
Form:
Rhyme
Hand in hand two sprites on a magic flight
with wings of crystal glass and fairy light
they flew, inside an abstract sky of white
wing to wing, one was nimble one was bright
Wearing taffet gowns of silky swishes
they were often flourishing their wishes
blessing all with benign hugs and squishes
tiny pixies, no bigger than mom's dishes
They were sent to baby rooms and wee ones
they shone like light from fifty golden suns
but every now and then they goofed all thumbs
and landed in a cabbage patch, oh crumbs !
they flew like Peter Pan and Tinker Bell
with magic wands to cast a spell, pell-mell
they scurried this way that and then oh well
they crazed it up and then they cast a spell.
Feb 26, 2023
Sponsor Eve Roper
Contest Name Nursery Rhyme
Categories:
scurried, appreciation, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Up in Colorado, in the forests of Pikes Peak
A cranky critters conference was held just this week
It was led by a mouse, 3 legs, whiskerless & without tail
"Against a common foe!" He said "We must Unite! We must prevail!"
He hobbled out to the edge of the woods & pointed toward a house
In that house, I once lived a good life, a young & healthy mouse
Then one day the rancher's wife decided she'd had enough
I will say she is a worthy adversary, Mercy she was tough!
He looked around at all the critters, weasel, skunk & squirrel
& said "I hate to admit it but I was bested by a girl!"
Its true, I escaped alive but she got her trophies, too
For I left my tail, paws & whiskers stuck there in her glue
The squirrel spoke up in a streetwise Brando voice
I'll accept the challenge! For this mission, I am the best choice!
I know this lady well, having enjoyed seeds & nuts out on her deck
I am not afraid of her & will show her we deserve respect
So the squirrel plotted & waited until the time was right
He saw his chance & took it while in the birds she took delight
He scampered up a pine tree & scurried out on to a branch
While she was distracted with a phone call & a pretty bird, he seized his chance
He took a flying leap, landing square on her blond head
Taking great delight in her squeals of surprise & dread
He then let loose with a torrent of the defecation sort
"That's for all the dead & walking wounded!" was his parting retort
The moral of this story, for one there must be
Is be mindful of avenging squirrels when you sit beneath a tree
Categories:
scurried, animals, cowboy-western, funny, nature,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
The lovers are gone,
their love and bruises taken with them.
Here, the farmer's son
struggled with the nobleman's heir,
so innocent and so brave
he fought for his maiden's honour,
in the field where he'd courted her
he broke his bones for her,
and lost his heroic battle
but won his magnificent war.
The battle of wits is gone,
its masters and fallen long buried.
Here, a madman, not really mad at all,
stood, knelt, scurried about,
near the centre of the field
and past the edge of his nerves;
he raged at the tempest,
begged the lightning to set him free;
drenched with regret, he trudged away,
abanoned by the nonchalant storm.
Tomorrow's travails are still,
the field waits alone.
3rd January 2019
Categories:
scurried, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
It was a dark and stormy night.
Outside the clouds hid pale moon's light.
The wind howled wild around the eaves,
Blowing loose the last Fall leaves.
The rain began to batter hard,
Against my nighted window pane,
And as I gazed into the night,
Something scurried through the rain.
What could it be on such a night,
That hurried through the gale to door?
It flitted quickly past my sight,
Seemed but a shadow, nothing more.
Stopping just inside the shed,
Furtively it turned it's head,
Then disappeared into the dark,
And I returned unto the hearth.
What huddled there inside my shed?
The very thought filled me with dread.
I grabbed my coat, I had to know,
What's hiding there all filled with woe.
Raincoat hood pulled way down tight,
I rushed to see what was it's plight.
There in the darkened cold she lay,
With tiny kittens of just one day.
I gathered them into my arms,
And brought them in where they'd be warm.
This could be their forever home,
For this old witch is all alone.
No one ever ventures near,
For it's me that they all fear;
But I've not harmed a single soul,
I'm just ugly and bent and crippled and old.
Like you I'm abandoned, I've been cast out,
And no one payed heed to my cries or shouts;
So we will be a family,
Just you and me and kittens three.
Categories:
scurried, animal, humanity, loneliness,
Form:
Quatrain