Bugling Poems - Poems about Bugling

...See them crawling all over the ceiling Pointing their slender anther in the air, Their bugling eyes covered in a pound of flesh Waiting to plunge to their sacramental death And the wind with a m......

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...I rise up early to breathe the crisp clean air of winds blowing 'cross the grass wondrous and fair Across the valley the mountains rise up high jagged purple peaks piercing the azure sky Eagl......

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...There's a chill in the air and the aroma of burning leaves abounds. The bugling of lovelorn elk is one of autumn's quainter sounds. Trees that provided summer shade with jade-hued leaves, now shed,......

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...Elk slowly walk grazing off open paths a distant bugling call Hunter hunkered down, still open sight 9/20/2020......

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...I love to sit and watch the Roosevelt Elk for hours. The Roosevelt Elk named for Theodore Roosevelt, it's my favorite animal in the wild. They are the largest of the four remaining Nort......

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...The Moon is almost... Sullen skies forewarn the frozen shroud. Gale November winds sway bare limbed trees, whistling in chorus with arrows of Geese straining to steer south. The familiar so......

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...Birds At The Feeder small chittering, cheepings winter wings brushed in Arctic air chickadees squabble to choose a seed from the newly filled feeder pecking and peeking and picking just the ......

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...The chorus of spring begins as peeper's chime in time with the cri......

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...An elephant met a jellyfish on a train and admired the colours on display. Here was obviously a shard. Here was a shine. Showing a bud. Bugling sound then. Vaporised vigilant vipers videoing. And a d......

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...The Roosevelt Elk The Roosevelt Elk A beautiful, majestic creature, that walks with head up high with pride that stands as tall as a horse, with a rack of antlers with many points that looks l......

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...What talks in a plankton’s wriggle? Weaving unseen whirlpools, pitting puddles (soaked, a mellow, afternoon shine)- lashing and curling like a sleek blade, cutting into r......

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...A slight mist of fog is caught in the act of being by the light of the early morning sun. Sometime during the dark of night it crept along from whence it came to the base of the hundreds of cabbage......

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...When solitary quests for TRANQUILITY I thirst, Pikes Peak I will ascend. Ah! The SPLENDOR of that majestic mount nothing will e'er transcend! As I mosey amongst its rugged tors and its towering hei......

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...Route 67 may not conjure up the romanticism of famed Route 66, Nor does it wend its way across the country or provide you any kicks. 'Tis just a winding mountain road running from Divide to Cripple......

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