Brook Poems - Poems about Brook

Babbling Brook or Dirty Harry

Michelin star cricketing cook…by hook or crook.. so canny..will find every nook and cranny…if you took a look at the record..score or text book ..won’t have forsook ..our dutiful..beautiful babbling Brook

Although the barmy army might suggest this almighty Blighty Test best..is more like an umami tsunami..

Bravissimo heave ho machismo..top grade…gung ho pyro Tyke tyro.. renegade

Ubiquitous Mallards

Bottoms up
in the brook a-babbling
topside down
ducks a-dabbling
wings in webbed feet
a-scrabbling
omnivorously grazing
on the dunk
beneath the water
for insects sunk
yet in the U.S.A.
above below but not abaft
they rank 7th most-hazardous bird
to commercial and military aircraft
and as a high-flyer at least one duck
was struck and it's hard to beat
at a cruising altitude
of 21,000 feet

A Brook Trickled Easily Down

A brook trickled easily down
As poetry running unbound
And I stood on a rock
To hear the steady stream
Of foreign words gurgled.

A hazy shaft of light beamed down -
Laser-pointing through piney boughs -
And where it gently struck -
Columbine shined and teemed
The floor with emeralds.

The Bench By The Brook

Do you remember it …
That one late spring day,
Solemn, where two could sit
A place nearby, but far away

It must be there still …
All around was dense with green
A steep hill, a small hill …
A footbridge in-between 

Leading down into the nook
A place both shaded and quiet, 
And the bench by the brook
Sat there waiting by

babble'n brook

.

        whilst thuh camber'z uv
              her fundament
            met thuh creek's
              

On the Banks of Needle Brook

I would sit on the banks of needle brook
And dream of faraway lands 
To where I would go 
Nobody would know 
I would dance upon clouds 
And ride on the tails of comets 
I would swim in oceans deep
And ride on the backs of wild animals
I would swing on vines in deep jungles 
And skip

I Could Sit Here

I Could Sit Here”

I could walk along this sandy shore.
Crashing waves to and fro.
Sandpipers chirping,
Seagulls circling,
White sails sailing. 
I could sit here for a while.

I could hike this rocky trail.
Relish the splendor of snowcapped peaks
Bathe in an icy brook
Cast a line without a fly
Bull elk braying in the meadow below
I could sit here for a

Gush or Hush

Still lakes can listen
A babbling brook cannot hear
Cast your words with care
Into this sea of people
The source, the flow, from the mouth

BIRTHDAY CLUE AT DAWN

BIRTHDAY CLUE AT DAWN

At dawn
In the little hours of a crow
I spoke to my pen to rise
Rise from bed to speak 

The language that at best I understand
To the form and rhymes; I'm no stranger
Gladly the pen took over the pages
Surmounted all pressure and blunt edges 

At the brook
In the hours when breeze was set

A crook brook soaked my books

Today's rain is more of a doom,
But why not just spare my own room?
You just poured in without a shame
So, who will then take this your blame?

Tho', where I live is a jungle,
My life needs not be this bungled,
Because this flood was just a lot,
This is not just based on my thought.

Its' anger was unleashed

The Unicorn

And there ...
I saw the unicorn, 
The sunlight beamed
Off her golden horn

She just stood there
By the edge of the brook,
Never startled ...
As I stopped to look

It was just her and I
While all time stopped,
Then, to the waters
Down her head dropped

To take a drink
Nibble at the grass,
I cannot tell you
How much time did pass

The unicorn saw

The Brook Writes Its Blue Dream

   Its fragrance,its aroma may 
              be felt  by the windy,
                     naked rose.
      

A story of a traveling brook

A story of a traveling brook 
You. A lonely maiden, picturesque
Smiling there, in an unseen, fathomless, depth, never to be rescued
Never knew the grace of the creation of a festive reason!
A bird, I never knew too close 
Chirping high from far across
The sea
My life and my tranquility!
We loved and cherished for a life long truth,

Ramblings of a babbling brook

This brook in the woods I pass in the winter
It babbles and blisters and wanders and splinters
In all sorts of directions grinding and winding
Turns back in connection then to itself binding
Like limbs of a squid with their purpose undid
A playground of kids with rules they've rid
Not rigid or timid, free flows with no limit
Nothing to

Crystal Brook Heroes

Our shifts are duly spent 
Of police duty known and meant 
And inquiries followed through
In the daily things we do

One day this can turn dangerous 
When this duty becomes onerous 
And an offender attacks unclean
With a sharp weapon stabbing mean

For Ian Todd and Jordan Allely were stabbed
At Crystal Brook by Sean Ferris so bad
And Ferris

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