Best Thieve Poems
Envious Ivy was her name
I’d buy something new – she’d put me to shame
My designer coat in a shade of emerald green
Ivy bought an identical one just to be mean
She was the most terrible copycat
See your purchase and say ‘oh I fancy one like that’
If I got a new car you could guarantee
Ivy would get the same just to copy me
She was like a shadow that just wouldn’t leave
If I had a great idea then Ivy would thieve
The copying went on for many many years
I got so fed up with it I'd end up in tears
Imitation is said to be a great form of flattery
Ivy was so jealous she should have lived in a cattery
I recently heard that Ivy had passed away
Do I have plans to copy her … NO WAY!
Contest:It’s Spring – Show Me Green – Francine Roberts
03~25~15
Categories:
thieve, humorous, jealousy,
Form:
Rhyme
September meets with warm embrace,
quickening the harvest pace,
though looming autumn can't efface
what's left of summer's arid grace.
The linen hanging on the line
dances with the gust and shine,
while maypops heavy on the vine,
with honeysuckle, twist and twine.
The cool grass tickles naked feet
while weaned lambs in the distance bleat,
and find some shelter from the heat
'neath leafy canopy retreat.
The gentle wind so jaunt'ly plays
and tousles copper hair ablaze
like furious dancing autumn rays
from Mabon's fiery upraise.
Through rustling leaves the sunbeams glint,
I catch the balm of sage and mint,
and every herb and floral scent
blown to me by the wind's dissent.
Breathing deep olfactory prose
until the old red rooster crows
waking me from my repose
and from beneath the tree, I rose.
When as I rose, a red leaf fell,
wisping down its last farewell;
a changing season to foretell;
the coming bounty doth compel.
Cicadas loudly buzz along
and sing their end of summer song,
o'er by the thorny brambles throng;
unto the prairie they belong.
By and by, I turned my mind
back to the farm and daily grind,
collecting eggs where I can find;
inside the henhouse, else behind.
The hens put up a bitter fuss
with feathers flying from the truss,
so I let out an angry cuss.
Still, they obliged; allowed me thus.
Upon it all, I took my leave,
finished with my blast and thieve
much to the angry birds' aggrieve;
giving them a day's reprieve.
Outside the coop, behind the fence,
my greedy boar approached me whence,
grunting for his recompense,
and so two eggs I offered thence.
Then on, as careful as I might
into the farmhouse kitchen white,
delivered up the shelled delight
to feed the morrow's appetite.
Upon the ending of this chore,
I happened back outside once more,
to watch the day fade into lore,
and Luna make her grand encore.
-----------------------------------------------
Categories:
thieve, autumn, day, farm, september,
Form:
Rhyme
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
We both had a big laugh at that,
well they do look like ducks, I said.
I sat down beside him to have a good look,
not at the geese but at this man;
this park bench thieve, this impostor.
Oh, he was handsome with his dark hair,
and pale face, a contrast to the fall leaves;
we were quiet for a moment . . .
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
Then we started talking, talking and talking,
I told him I came to the park each day.
He was new to the city and asked me questions,
and being friendly, I offered to show him around.
I talked about my favorite places to go,
and he said lets go together;
he was easy to talk to and I liked him a lot,
we made plans to meet at the bench next day.
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
Many days after we met in the park,
we watched the leaves falling and collected a few;
the air smelled so sweet and I was falling,
falling in love with this beautiful man.
And I think he loved me too,
we liked to walk with the leaves crunching,
and even when the rain was coming down.
One day he bent down and kissed me.
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
We fell in love among the rust-colored trees,
and the leaf-strewn park and autumnal beauty.
My heart and soul ached for his arms,
and his breathtaking kisses fell on my lips.
Oh I was smitten and lost in the aura of love,
so when he bent on one knee and I asked me;
will you marry me, I was ablaze like those leaves.
Well, of course I said yes, yes, yes, my darling.
He was on my bench, so I asked him, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
______________________________
September 25, 2017
Verse/Autumn Is For Love
Copyright Protected, ID 944594
Written for the contest, Autumn Romance
sponsor, Julie Rodeheaver
First Place
Categories:
thieve, autumn, love,
Form:
Verse
Sidney sloth was so very very shy
He’d hide in the treetops way up high
Hanging upside down so no one could see
He’d painted his toes red like a ripe cherry
Sidney hid in the tree so silently
High in the branches where no one could see
But soon Sidney discovered a major snag
Ripe cherries were being picked and put in a bag
The cherry picker pulled at one of Sidney’s toes
Sidney was no longer in a state of sweet repose!
Wanting to maintain his privacy
Sidney climbed to the top of the tree
Soon autumn came and the leaves she did thieve
Forcing poor Sidney to hurriedly leave
Sidney sought sanctuary in a local zoo
Now he can’t be seen by me or you!
Fun write inspired by the idiom contest
07~29~16
New or Old 3 contest Sponsored by Eve Roper
Categories:
thieve, fantasy, fun, humorous, silly,
Form:
Couplet
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But only elegant people can have beauty in their eyes
Only great people can compliment another
And bad ones see with eyes that is sly
Trying to judge using their own ways on others
Seeing not any compliment no matter how you try
But nice ones have eyes that see further
Knowing what the empty page implies
When complimented, know the complimenter is excellent too
Because he's seen through the hue
She's left the spoilt and picked the good
Only a thieve can predict a thieve
Clothiers best know the quality sleeves
And only weavers see through the best weaves
Scorpions never compliment but sting
Empty barrels only tink
But lovely people give you wings
thanks to Dalia for the inspiration...
Categories:
thieve, anti bullying,
Form:
Didactic
Beyond the breakers, dreamers hoist their sails
Lost in the clouds, on ships of make believe
A stowaway, escaping life's travails
Adventurer, Inventing hearts to thieve
Imagination wakes the inner child
A problem, is an island to explore
An argument, a king to be exiled
Where grown ups, for a moment are ignored
And yet we rarely ever take the time
To let the inner child come out to play
Or watch the clouds in silent pantomime
Act out our fantasies of childhood days
Beyond the breakers new horizons loom
Imagination is your child's playroom
Daniel Turner
Categories:
thieve, adventure, fantasy, imagination,
Form:
Sonnet
I walked upon an empty step,
Where a shadowed body was kept.
The shadow was beat,
Turning as cold as winter sleet.
It had bright blue eyes,
That extended all through the skies.
The shadow was nine,
Living to be blind.
I walked to the figure,
As it would evilly linger.
People would laugh at it,
As it snarled and bit.
The shadow diagnosed with
schizophrenia,
Beating itself, the others, as if a
mania.
No one could reach out,
No one gave it water, as it was in a
drought.
I was determined to bring its colors,
Be the one to treat it like no other.
The shadow hated me,
Told me Hell is where I should be.
Not giving in,
Not creating one other sin.
I drew it pictures, wrote it letters,
Tried to blossom its feathers.
Then the day came,
When there had to be an end to the
game.
Not wanting to leave,
Not wanting the devil to its thieve.
As I was bout to walk through the
door,
The shadow came upon me, on the
open floor.
Held out his arms,
As I smiled and lowered his alarms.
The shadow had a name,
Brought about with little shame.
The shadow was a boy,
Played with by the devil as if a toy.
I played with fire,
Burning loosely like a run away tire.
But he finally knew I was there,
Someone who was willing to care.
Categories:
thieve, caregiving, childhood, dedication, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
This phrase "tomorrow" I've heard and heard
Yet no one dares bother to manage the word
Thus, I try to imagine as day nears the reach
That love is a timeless and immortal breach ...
This phrase "tomorrow" that tenders your lips
Is meant to sink sanity, saviors ... and ships
For nothing of value and nothing that lasts
Is quite as unreachable, (save for the past)
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
I see its dark shadow but its face turns away
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
For when I get there
I'll drown my despair
And no longer care ...
That you said you'd love me tomorrow ... today
This phrase "tomorrow" that trembles the night
Will thieve "here and now" of its precious delight
For only this moment is worth our sweet breath
Each blessed inhalation, just one short of death
This phrase "tomorrow", you promised to me
Is as deep as the heavens, as black as the sea
But if not for you, I'm as empty as both ...
If not for you, I'm as gone as its ghost ...
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
I see its dark shadow but its face turns away
I'm chasing that phantom, Tomorrow, today
For when I get there
I'll drown my despair
And no longer care ...
That you said you'd love me tomorrow ... today
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Tomorrow" Poetry Contest, Edward Ibeh, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
thieve, appreciation, love, metaphor, time,
Form:
Lyric
In a sharp fresh breeze,
On a crisp Spring day,
Hand in hand in verdure stroll,
Under lush chirping trees,
Among flowering buds stray,
New birth, and new love to extol.
On a balmy Summer's eve,
When the butterflies dance,
In the meadow we fell warm and unseen,
Soft kisses to thieve,
In mesmeric love trance,
Garments lost in the trampled green.
Gold Autumnal mornings,
Of yellow ripened corn,
Flowing like the amber of your hair,
I loved you all those dawnings,
As the leaves fell forlorn,
Your puckered lips an answer to prayer.
Icy moonlit nights,
Frostbitten fingertips,
From Winter's penetrating chill,
'Neath mystic starlights,
We tasted freezing lips,
Seasons pass, ....but I love you still !
Categories:
thieve, devotion, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Restless ghostly night,
whilst full moon hangs bright
drench in yellow with fright.
The hour of All Hallow's Eve
has chimed like a venal thieve;
all in wild frenzy they leave.
A shrill whistle in the distance
behest by spirits persistence
and wicked witches on broom assistance.
Those brave to be out in the dark,
stumble in their steps they mark,
as lanterns in trembling fingers spark.
Twilight soul into burnt cinder
shadows and ghost linger,
as cowering frightened dogs whimper.
Luminously yellow eyes blaze,
of the alluring vampire's gaze,
in the dark a hypnotic maze.
Goblins, gnomes, and black fairies
dance around blood-red berries;
a chilling ritual mummeries.
Standing in the moonlight there,
a few feet from toadstools; a pixie pair,
merry tricksters everywhere.
Waxen daylight creeps across the sky,
arise a yawn from sneaking dawn nigh.
Gone, in a wink All Hallow's Eve cunning and sly
10/25/2021
Children Story
Categories:
thieve, fantasy, halloween,
Form:
Rhyme
They took an inch
They took a yard
They colonised without regard,
Whilst they took they couldn’t see
That human beings are they, and we.
Hence they made the greatest error
Filling souls with shock and terror,
Claiming country they had found
All upon old sacred ground.
And how she cried when blood was spilled
For all the people they had killed,
Many mocked and many lied
Hope deceased when dreams had died.
The Massacres were heartless cruel
And after one they had more fuel
To slaughter more of innocence
To build a home to build a fence.
To scoff their pork, butter, cheese
With rations small to only tease.
Still, they laugh
Still, they scorn
Still, she cries when we mourn...
Still, they thieve without remorse
Too sinister to know the source.
Though her time is nearly here
To smash them all and into fear,
And they shall learn to respect
They shall learn to protect...
All of her, and hers they wrecked.
Categories:
thieve, mother, nature, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Here I sit alone in my ‘prison cell’
Cut off from the ones I love – it is a living hell
I feel so alone, I crave human contact, anyone would be great
Just someone to talk to - it doesn’t have to be a mate
Splendid isolation between these four walls
Scared to venture out my room in case an intruder calls
I lock my door every time I leave
In case someone comes to take what little I have to thieve
There is no one here to share my fears
No one to hold my hand or wipe away my tears
The ones I love are far from me
No one to listen to my plea
I need to be brave to soldier on
In a few days we will be gone
Back to the home from where we came
Until then I play the waiting game
This is my first poem since childhood, written when my husband was undergoing cancer surgery in November 2013. I felt so isolated and also very vulnerable in the hospital accommodation which was a flat that had 4 lockable bedrooms and a shared kitchen but was shared by both men and women
I had my laptop and my phone .. but what I really needed was someone to be there at my side. My son had just started university and had enough stress being away from home especially with his father being ill. My father prevented me from telling my mum of my husband's cancer so I had no support at all from my immediate family.
15th Feb 2014
Submitted to Loneliness Contest Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
Submitted to A Meaningful Poem - Poetry Contest Sponsored by Constance La France
Categories:
thieve, cancer, fear, feelings, how
Form:
Rhyme
Of mountainous harmonic highs everlasting sacred skies, meadows evergreens
Our Love swiftly soars beyond the seraphical shores, of everlasting dreams
A ripple in the parental pond a wizard waving wand, love bewitchingly beams
Like birds in their native nests Love rarely rests, feeding on sensual streams
Love may take a waiting while you surrender to its smile, you give and receive
Once you've been bit you sacrificially shall submit, to the thriving thieve
It steals your humble heart as you comply and compart, to conquer and deceive
Like a rose in disguise chasing beauty and chastise, in the end we always grieve
But Love carries on like a softly swimming swan, thru ripples to the end of time
Come what may Love will always Satyr stray and rivetingly romantically rhyme.
July.04.2017
The Creative Collective Anthology Series
Sponsored by: Geraldine Taylor
Happy 4th to my US buds and buddets lol
Categories:
thieve, life, love, philosophy,
Form:
Rhyme
My Eyes Are The Seers Of Treasure,
Among The Limbs When I Dream Of Leisure,
The Brain Is Wealth,
As A Thieve Is To Stealth,
The Future Is For The Dreamers,
For As Far As I Recall, I’m Among The Schemers,
And The Brain Is Indeed Gold,
Only In The Minds Of The Wise And Old.
Beautiful Things Seem To Never Last,
As They Always Opt To Stay In The Past
Sometimes I Smile, Sometimes I Whine,
As If I Have A Needle Penetrating My Spine,
I Had Never Came Across Luck,
Midst The Uncomfortable, And Nuisance I’m Stuck,
However I Never Knew That My Mind Was Gold,
For I Believed, Brains Are Only For The Wise And Old.
I’m The Cold And The Belligerent,
Opposite The Bold And Intelligent,
I am A Sad Song That Was Never Sung,
Still Stuck On The Singer’s Numb Tongue-
Should I Blame Stupidity, Rushing Through The Pain,
Clueless As I am- Here I Remain,
For I Have Assumed Patience Is Gold,
Only In The Mind Of The Wise And Old.
My Heart Is Feeble, And My Strength Have Drained
And Whenever My Thoughts Dried- I Wished It’d Rained-
Where’s The Light, I Wonder, Feeling Like A Powerless Torch,
While Everyone Stares At Me Like A Raven On Their Front Porch,
Therefore My Visions Turns Microscopic, Filling Me With Wrath,
As If Ninety Nine Black Cats Crossed My Path-
Yet Deep Down Inside Me My Thoughts Are Gold,
Leaving Me With The Feeling Of The Wise And Old.
Categories:
thieve, age, character, courage, depression,
Form:
Ballade
Play Station
It’s not entertainment
But a relief from boredom
Purchased with the mesmerized hours of a working life
And save for love and friendship
To highlight the continuum
There would remain nothing to relieve the endless waltz of boredom
So desperate and insatiable
This need for new experience
The human passion continually outstrips
The worldly measure we are given
Though capable of dreaming
Imagining almost anything
Still we are tied to realities realization
Limited in it’s dominion
These dreams we have will never be
And as we slip from the pinnacle of our potential
Having merely glimpsed
The vistas of possibilities
Returning to the level where wonder and inspiration
Are a repeated indoctrination of acceptance
This is not how life could be
This is how life will be
Trendy little idiom
Wrapped in facile fashion
A cult to thieve away any individualism
Dressed in plagiarized opinion
A walking talking vacuum
The bleating sheep of humanity
Searching for relief from its obligatory boredom
And the intricate little details of fast cars and even faster wars
Are lost in the political greed and national gluttony
For the higher paid heroes and newer roll models
Reflecting in this dilatory need for belief in the latest craze
We are nothing more than a play station
Buy another game and press
X
Categories:
thieve, life, people, sociallife,
Form:
Free verse