Best Soil Poems

Under Moldy Soil, Red Moon Overhead

Under moldy soil, red moon overhead
lay millions of corpses, wars wasted dead
No bands playing, no sweet angels singing
only ghostly echoes, slowly ringing.

Cools winds blowing across such resting grounds
on dark nights, ghost-whispers its only sounds
Low moans, raging regrets of battle cries
rebukes...

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Deep In Newly Disturbed Soil, Lies My True Love

(  “Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them” – George Eliot.)

Deep in newly disturbed soil, lies my true love
'neath a canopy of virgin soil and loose rock
where no more glows splattering...

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vivacious roses pose

in air

oxygen free from the stem

arising like balloons

resurrection of rosies

blushing brides at peak

before their spoiling

before their mistreat

their passionate gowns sweet

wormy stems
await greening apples
Eden’s eschew

the ladies wave bye-bye

preferring the troposphere

fear of flying

ain’t there

angels, palms up,

invite their climb

up golden stairs

heaven is a lighthouse

waves crash on...

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Caressing Virgin Soil, With Soft Caring Hands

In her garden, wearing old pants and her long tresses
caressing virgin soil, with soft caring hands.
Generous to a fault, kind heaven blesses
she a gem of far away Asian lands.

Dawn's early rays would sparkle in her eyes
as she rose to...

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Materialize before my eyes:
Amorphous clumps of clay 
In puddles of brown broth
Walk around with empty mouths
That house ravens of despair
Silent stupidity and empty
Sockets follow blindly 
A path hewn ages before 
They even existed in weary
Acceptance of fate unavoidable.
       ...

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THANKSGIVING ON FOREIGN SOIL    thanks

It was November of nineteen seventy
At an orphanage in Vietnam
A group of weary soldiers
Served a dinner so sublime

The orphans were excited
This was a first for them
The soldiers were delighted
Up to now, things had been grim

The smiles on the...

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I am black and you 
are white... of course;
my blood is red, what 
colour is yours?
I am an African, you are an 
American,
The Sun is my skin, 
why do you tan?

''I am white, you are 
black'', well said!
I have one head, have 
you got 'dash'...

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{Poet’s Note : I wrote this poem for the passing of my very dear friend & comrade, Cecyl Esau, Umkhonto we Sizwe Commander in 2021, as a contribution to his memorial service. Cecyl was given a full Provincial Military Official Funeral. Though the reading was...

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The Rich Soil Which Yields My Food

Making a living from the earth is tough hard work and it is often done in extreme conditions. The shimmering rays passing through the open bedroom window awakens me with the warmth of the sun on my face. Lying...

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Know
Yoooooooou
Love
Lord...

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Some fell along the hard path in the field,
and so were left for birds to peck and eat.
Some fell on shallow soil; therefore, the yield
was sparse, for many withered in the heat.
And some were cast among the thorny brush
which choked and killed the tender shoots...

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Soil
Alive, Fertile
Feeding, Thriving, Growing
Gardens, Agriculture, Beaches, Deserts
Eroding, Blowing, Stinging
Dead, Empty
Sand...

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The Soil Expert
                                       Frank Halliwell

She strides across...

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after winter’s cold
shooting up past barriers
a tulip now grows...

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Never felt obliged
To ask the soil for her thoughts
Before I planted my seeds
Watered and weeded and fertilized
With hands guided by my heart

Not only do I doubt
If she would have given consent
I honestly don’t know
If she would have welcomed
My yearning soul into her home
Of warm, brown...

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