Best Woods Poems
Whilst walking through the woods one day
A crystal brook there, shone so gay
The sun was shining oh' so bright
As brook reflected all it's light
Buzzing insects all around
Oh' they made a delightful sound
Birds flew upwards to the sky
These parrots made a hue and cry
Carpet of flowers with lovely scent
It seemed this morn way heaven sent
The flowers opened to the sun
This walk for me was so much fun
Sheep bleated from far away
Oh it was such a lovely day
I go into the woods to find my inner peace,
since a little girl this is my own special place;
my emotions held- in the woods I can release,
each tree and each flower my spirit does embrace.
Since a little girl this is my own special place,
as I walk along I let my mind just wander;
each tree and each flower my spirit does embrace,
yes, I meander for long hours and ponder.
As I walk along I let my mind just wander,
I love each bird twittering- each creature within;
yes, I . . . meander for long hours and ponder,
and each sweet thing growing wild and free makes me grin.
I love the birds twittering- each creature within,
in winter there is a tranquility to find;
and each sweet thing growing wild and free makes me grin,
oh, love when the trees with snow and ice are entwined.
In winter there is a tranquility to find,
my emotions held- in the woods I can release;
oh, love when the trees with snow and ice are entwined,
I go into the woods to find my inner peace.
_________________________________
January 7, 2019
Poetry/Pantoum/Rhyme/Into The Night
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1101-866-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Into The Woods
sponsor, Silent One
First Place
Poem Of The Day - January 9, 2019
Deep in the woods, a cottage lies,
deep in the core of it,
and gazing out with empty eyes,
twins by a window sit.
Deep in their thoughts, they sit, these two,
above their shack, a shroud
of limbs from trees block any view
of sun, or moon or cloud.
Deep in their hearts, they had to know
they shared a secret sin.
In dark, sweet flowers cannot grow
when jealousy creeps in.
Deep in the night, the cold winds gust.
The leaves from a fresh dirt mound.
The winds, as strong as two maids’ lust,
now move the leaves around.
Deep in the ground, lies one who came
by chance. He did no wrong
but put twin virgin hearts aflame. . .
then stay a bit too long.
Deep into sleep, each woman dreams
of the love she yearns for still
and shivers to recall the screams
of the man both had to kill.
for Skat's Dark and Deep (old poems only)Contest
Where hazel bushes mix with sturdy oaks
and beech trees densely grow in shades of green
the fairy flowers come in early spring
attired in clothes of violet-blue sheen.
The swathes of bluebells, like a sheet unrolled
before our eyes, breathtaking to behold!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This stanza is a Sexain or Sestet.
Contest: One Stanza
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 4th
© 14th July 2016
There's a path I always take
down to the river where the woods
are dressed down open
The light of the sky
doesn't shine in your eyes
but leads the way to redemption
I like to stand there for a moment
on the shortcut created by troubled feet
woven with wilderness bliss
and cigarettes butts
It's a path that never sleeps
I see the same semi-blind vision
of the river every time
I hear baby boat horns blaring in the distance
and floating out of view
I walk to the rhythm of the trees
the faint sound of Wild Thing
playing in the car
I carry a bent black rod
with a tangled neon line
and a mud-covered box of rusty hooks
and flaming red bobbers
I wear my T-Shirt that says Iron City Beer
that's cut off at the belly
or sometimes my other one
that says Just Do It
with shredded denim shorts
that ride my buttocks
After a few seconds of inhaling
and exhaling an indecision
I do what most fishermen do
with only my thoughts to keep me company
I find a clean rock
and cast with desperation
The woods close
Against a night frightened white,
a tall tree stands - skeletal -
transfixing me one winter
on my woodland walk.
Small trees surround the tall one.
They extend icy fingers
as if to help point me out
to the taller tree.
The hairs rise on my arms as
I view the long black limbs of
those old cold men of the woods
reaching out for me.
For the any poem contest #2 Poetry Contest
peacock in woods
long’ curb - feathers tightly tucked
a truant rainbow
A dirt road leads into a forest
This road is winding and narrow
into the woods
As the car travels it comes to a fork
Now a decision must be made to-
turn left or right
After awhile a shape comes into view
The first thing seen is an out house
A few feet away a railway car on a-
grassy patch -A strange site to see
The driver came to to visit his eccentric
friends.
They live in the forest all year round
Deep in the woods away from the main road
It is not a campsite -it is their home
Living out here in solitude all alone
The driver wonders how could they
live this way
He will never know the reason
As I stroll through the Autumn woods
I hear the cracking crunch of leaves.
And whistling through the bare branches
a brisk breeze, shrieks like a banshee.
A chatty squirrel barks and squeaks
as I stroll through the Autumn woods.
And when dusk dims, I hear an owl
hooting lowly in the distance.
A lone woodpecker's tap-tapping
echoes off an old rotten log.
As I stroll through the Autumn woods,
I'm greeted by natural sounds.
A chattering chipmunk scolds me
in a loud barrage of shrill chirps.
And I can hear a gnarled oak groan
as I stroll through the Autumn woods.
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my John,
What were you doing out at dawn?
Why it hasn't rained for ages now,
So many failed crops, and fields you must plough.
Your dirty clothes are all so glum.
You're just a little dirty bum
You deserve no pity, my son.
Go up and clean yourself, get done,
There'll be no food for you tonight,
And don't dare cry you messy mite.
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my John,
What were you doing out at dawn?
You dared disobey me again,
Bastard idiot and a pain.
Look at your clothes, all wet with dew,
Torn without a valid reason, too.
Do you think that I can afford
Money needed, is all we hoard?
I'll show you what attire you'll fray.
I swear I'll tear your hideaway.
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my John,
What were you doing alone at dawn?
Did I not send you to get twigs,
Why do you behave like poor pigs?
What are those stains around your face?
Eating berries? Did you say grace?
There, how's that for a bloody punch?
Now your face looks best like a crunch,
Can't even take his correction.
Wipe that juice, you misconception.
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my John,
What were you doing alone at dawn?
Were you smooching with silly ****,
That goody goody, y mutt?
Go find a hooker, try to learn
What true pleasures women can burn.
You'll never learn from that hussy,
Good for nothing bit of lassie.
If I see you again with her,
Why I'll castrate you forever.
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my John,
What were you doing alone at dawn?
Were not your father there with you?
Why is your face so red and blue?
Why haven't you returned together?
Eating berries in this weather?
Why is your new shirt so blood-stained?
Don't you know he will have you chained!
Oh John, my John, you'll never learn
Your father will kill you, he's stern.
What's that smile on your face, my John?
What were you doing, alone in the woods, my son,
What were you doing?
placed 1
Her whisper gentle like the summer breeze
Calls a passing sparrow lonely and shy,
One that had escaped the northerly bise
Intoxicated from flying too high.
A welcoming hand held out a surprise
While a tranquil voice hints of sweet meadows,
Orchestration of each golden sunrise
Her kindly eyes destroy fearsome shadows.
This tiny bird in need of a dear friend
Feasts and sups unafraid of humankind,
The two of them breach the regular trend
With eyes wide open although both are blind.
Adverse to prejudice tis plain to see
If everyone made a friend this the key.
© Harry J Horsman 2015
Dare not rove in the woods on Halloween
There are witches there who are best not seen
They tempt one with brew that resembles stew
Truth is what goes in the brew’s not for you.
They put in chewed bones from fingers and toes
What they consider gravy, no one knows
Avoid the brew or you'll blow up and bust
Ending up becoming a cloud of dust.
Stay alert for ghosts and ghouls, one must do
They're out to frighten the life out of you
Never accept a trick or treat from them
A trick is a prick from a toxic pen.
A treat is a sweet one should not dare eat
They are made from remains of frogs webbed feet
One would then croak and jump for evermore
Take this advice, stay behind your locked door.
On a darkened night in a full moon's glow
Alone, I walk, on a midnight stroll
Along the trail, where Old Buck roams
A path of footprints deep in snow
An old wise owl's echoing hoots
Sticker bushes, made- rabbit's homes
A foxhole 'Neath a fallen tree
Mouse nests built in broken roots
Some evergreens sit fluff and green
In this forest full of life, I see
On my midnight stroll, a moonlit show
So wonderful is this nature scene
Through barren trees with rotted bark
Where animals live or left their mark
Perhaps they've come off Noah's ark
I wonder, as I walk these woods of dark
*Whose woods these are I think I know
Lines To Awaken Your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
2/19/2020
Woods enthuse me,
Bring me to a dancing state.
Lilt me, lift me, bring me back to my soul mother.
Bring me home, in pure joy and excitement.
I adore you, Woods.
Your fox, your eagle, your moss, your deer.
I am one with them, for I am one with you, and
We are all a part of this universal oneness
Mother sky and Mother meadow
Was there ever a more cosmic place in this
Fantasy world that some think is the real world?
Let me dance and sing and throw my arms into the air,
Playing enthusiastically into your eternal oneness,
Reveling in your stumps, branches, and the roots that
Tie Mother Earth to this heart-felt place.
Let others be of this world. Let me be ethereal,
A faerie whose wings are dancing and prancing in
perfect harmony with the heartbeat of the forest,
My savior, my friend, the pulse of the woods.
Nurturing my soul in joyfulness.
May I always be in awe of her.
Always.
Reflections of God
I feel God’s presence when walking o'er hills
In nodding heads of golden daffodils
In fields of green and crystal waterfalls
In trees standing proud, statuesque and tall.
I hear God in vibrant sounds of the woods
In murmurs of the breeze and babbling brooks
I find Him in the glow of risen sun
Fresh days and fresh pages to write upon.
I sense God's love flow through charmed symphonies
In enchantment of choral melodies
I seek Him in the dewy morning mist
In the sky when it has been rainbow kissed.
God’s revealed in roosters crowing refrain
In rain dancing upon the window pane
I rejoice in nightfalls scenic display
Stunning sunsets taking one's breathe away.
There's not a fragrant rose in June that blooms
Nor stars twinkling brightly around the moon
No clouds adorning the canvas of sky
That doesn't send reflections of God on high.
In the morning I will sing of your love...
* * *
19th October 2020