Cavorted Poems | Examples

Trolls, Bots and Spidered Webs

Through false truth, the Rus reclaims hegemony,
Farming trolls to be enrolled,
'Neath bridges, clowns, see enemies, 
Puking riddles on those tolled.

Then the bots deliver the hurl,
Regurgitate into the net,
Till truth is common as a pearl,
Yet what you see is what you get.

Spidered webs entangle yonder,
The language largely modeled,
And artificial minds are left to ponder,
Which words are fiddle-faddle.  

Defrosted wars are flooding fields,
Entrenching fact with fiction,
In cyber realms, we've little shields,
To counter eastern malediction. 

Folly finds that fear is fruitless,
Beware tourneys of tyranny,
Cavorted by the truth-less and ruthless, 
Pretending reality's but conspiracy.

Undaunted In Moonlight

Afraid but totally, to be unsupported,
With not posting, the poetess cavorted!

Till a blythe, joyful spirit appeared,
Allaying all those ghostly fears to disappear!

With that, she penned with saisfacction .
Not even a broken hearft, coud halt her traction!


                       1/4/ 2924



      

.

dark of night

It was a warm balmy night very peaceful
the woods slept soundly the moon shone 
In the quiet stepped out a unicorn flowing
silver mane it paused sniffing the air warily

Satisfied it started to cavort around gayly
soon a stag joined in and a fairy both dancing
They called to friends to join in all stepping high
Dancing and cavorting they continued  till dawn.

They then went their separate ways only hoof
marks showed they were ever there people 
puzzled over marks and shook their heads
Yet on the next moon lit night they returned.

And for many nights they cavorted with glee
Waiting for something to appear still waiting
then a star beamed down and prettily she
came touching noses with her mate then

They vanished back into the undergrowth
leaving all wondering if they ever or not
had been there at all.

We Will Gather 'Round Again

So fondly I remember,
We would gather ‘round and sing
Mom on the piano, as Christmas
Melodies would ring.

Music always brought us joy,
Come and join us, by all means!
Come fill the house with melodies,
Saxes, trumpets, violins!

We would try to sing our parts,
Smiling all the while together
Building gilded memories
As we cavorted altogether.

Now we live in different places
And our pianist has gone home,
But we will gather ‘round in heaven
And sing again near heaven’s throne.

There, angelic chorus
And all of heaven’s host-
Will raise our mightiest praise 
To the God we love the most.

How I thank Him for my family
Whom I’ll see, I don’t know when,
But I look forward to the day
When we’re gathered ‘round again.

World Limerick Day Today

Afraid to be unsupported.
With not posting, she cavorted.
Till a spirit did appear, 
Saying, cease all fear. 
With that, she penned undaunted!

 3/21/2023


Write a limerick to celebrate this day, do!

140322

14/03/22

A little boy sat all alone
Beneath a dying throttler tree
Through which’s branches, bare and cold
The wind cavorted mournfully.

Upon his lap was lain a bract
The final of a lost array
With which he tied a dismal knot,
Kissed once, then twice, then tossed away 

Cruelly on shone bright the moon,
As the boy in silence wept
And with the swift-departing tree
He slowly
slowly
slowly
Slept.

Writer's Block

As a bird I am,
blessed with these wings
that have caressed the
winds of wisdom, and
flown me to places far,
and shown me 
the ends of the Universe -
a bird indeed, yet one
entombed in a
miserable cage, even as 
the whiff of free air
outside my inculpable prison
does fill my nostrils
through the holes in this
rotten mesh.

If those gates are shut
so be they, for they may
keep me from those worlds
which I've cavorted in,
but my eyes, kissed
by a thousand suns do see
beauty even in that which
deprives life of beauty,
and this voice, once subdued
shall speak again, crafting
another world in this
lonely abode.

Hind Sight

A Texan with whom Trump cavorted
Never once laughed, she only snorted
As mad as he can be
Trump cursed the GOP
"Why wasn't that woman aborted?"

The Jester

The Jester

The castle page sent for him
And the jester could quickly conclude
That despite a life of grandeur
The king was in a sad mood

His entrance was swift and grand
Sweeping gestures as he advanced
A job all his own, to uplift the throne
As he cavorted about and danced

All the while he couldn’t help but wonder
Why the King always had a sad face
How can it be? If that could be me!
What I’d give to sit in his place!

The king appeared quite amused
Gone was his dark gloomy shroud
As the sure footed merry jester
Delighted both he and the crowd

The Jester proved quite the performer
A minstrel and fine acrobat
He regaled the king with tributes
While wearing his three pointed hat

But secretly the King was longing
Condemned by each royal ancestor
He’d gladly step down and forgo his crown
In exchange for the life of the Jester!

Dust Danced

Dust Danced

Dust danced above the unset table
mocking the sun’s attempt at warmth
randomly cavorted through the vacancy
of forever, and never, in collision. 



3/19/2017

During a Round of Golf At Pebble Beach

On Pebble Beach's seventh green
I paused to watch an otter.
He dove, cavorted, spun around,
An acrobat on water.
Then lolling, drifting, eyeing me
He twitched brown nose and whiskers.
His thought, that moment, mirrored mine:
"He plays all day, that rascal."

Autumn's Ceremony

>>>
cavorted about as elfin brides
under a saffron maple tree^^^^
Dressed in prism-hued layers
of chiffon in ethereal shimmers
and delicate silken gossamers
They having their group wedding in the fall
And fairy folk bustled about all round
as flimsy and flighty as they could be
while henna leaves fell upon the brides,
>>>>> in ceremonial nuptial
An autumn's breezy ritual>>>Branches denuded
Yet autumn's august>>>
in honey fallen maple leaves as well
>>>>Playing hide'n' seek
with browny brownie grooms
also camouflaged in the heap...>>>

( beautiful quote 7)

Mother Nature and Old Father Time

Mother Nature met Old Father Time, and what a good time they had
They cavorted for quite along while, she a girl, him a bit of a lad.
Then one day when Father Time, a wrinkle set in mother natures plan
All those things she gave birth too, he decided he's not a fan.
The renewal of all things good, Mother Nature sent our way
Father time lets them flourish, and then sends them on their way.
Mother Nature keeps giving birth, a wondrous mother she proves to be
But Old Father Time throws his tantrums, he tries to be the boss of she.
So the mother and father that we all know are still battling day by day
But let’s let them get on with it, and try not to get in either ones way.
© ~GG~ 07’03’2013

Of Myth and Men

But is it true?
Does flesh impart
the spirit heart with mystery
to synchronize its beating—
fare its child with golden history
beyond its bloody birth,
its soft resigning death
to spur romance alone?

There is a touch of sainthood
in the firelight raconteur who
sketches in the apparition of a god
to dress his reach into the past...
from where did that emerge?
In truth, inside of us.

In truth, each journey to the mountaintop
will pass the lions in the heart,
medusas on the sands to lure us 
to the lands of strange delight 
where men and beast unite,
where totems tower
beyond our failing sight.

And with it all, the fantasy of song—
the legend sung to men
far long upon the trail
who caught a glimpse
of that old highway through the mist
from earth to fair Olympus
where the demigods cavorted
one last time, and left their imprints
in the golden dust.

With humankind there just is not enough
to raise the breath of life beyond,
yet with the fabled must 
of  prowling lions, teacher and disciple
feed their mind and soul
not from the carrion of Eden
but the cradle of the Ark.
             ~

Two Merry Leaves

They danced and they turned and they tumbled
In wind, how it sighed and it grumbled
With force, how it howled in its fury
But still they bore no trace of worry

In cool autumn winds they cavorted
My foot! How they laughed and they sported
They flew through the air just like pheasants
Till set in my excellent presence

“Red Leaf,” quoth I unto the leader
“To fly, there is nothing more neater
But weren’t you the least bit affrighted
As thus from the breeze you alighted?”

“Dear sir,” quoth the leaf as he flitted
“To fear, for a leaf ain’t permitted
We’re taught from a bud in the cradle
That even a crash isn’t fatal.”

“I say,” quoth I unto the yellow
“You seem to be such a neat fellow
I wonder how likes you this sporting
Or if you a damsel are courting?”

Quoth he, “All this sporting is splendid
The days of my courting are ended
My lover has flown to the northward
While I am constrained to fly southward.”

Before one more word could be spoken
The peace of that moment was broken
Away flew those leaves o’er the treeses
Borne by the chill autumn breezes


October 25, 2012.
For the contest, Up in the Autumn Air. Second place.

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