Crows come
And crows go
But Arthur always was.
For years the lofty oak had been
His look-out every day
And soon as Mother chucked the scraps
His shiny eyes
Would spot the crumbs
From eighty yards away.
No craftier crow
In all the land
Than Arthur black and strong
And wise more wise
Than all magpies
He would not fly straight down.
Although he’d had
So many scraps
From Mother's grassy lawn
He’d never ever fail to wait
For just in case
It might be bait
To trap him once for all.
So Arthur’d sit and look around
Then fly a reconnoitre
And then he’d fly a closer one
And land in something shorter.
OK! I think, would Arthur think,
It might be safe to eat it
And down he’d drop
And grab the lot
And quick as quick
He’d beat it.
In memory of a crow that used to perch in the first big oak at our tree nurserey in England during the 1990s and 1980s.
Categories:
craftier, bird, creation, nature,
Form: Free verse
The sacred earth, the mother to all beings is
Sustaining countless creatures; since epochs
Without any unfairness what so ever known
Allows them to survive on their own strength.
Complex lives arose; then after a long time
Humans survived fittingly against many odds
Establishing themselves indisputably firm and
Putting forth their claim as masters; craftier.
Then they commenced their appalling act
Of steadily eliminating the hoarier beings
In their diabolical quest for their pleasure
Began causing hurt to dear Mother earth.
Her voiceless and the innocent offspring
Have now become feeble and vulnerable
Facing their extinction imminent speedily
Thanks to evil activities of mean humans.
Let not homo-sapiens claim exclusive title
For the earth, the universe, belongs to all
The good way of living on the sacred earth
Is gentleness towards all the beings around.
Categories:
craftier, environment, universe,
Form: Free verse
Will you come now and stand your ground
A place to rest your heart and soul
There is no better stand around
Hope found, resting might take its toll
Don’t fight for what you don’t believe
Will you come now and stand your ground
But don’t practice art to deceive
Let the craft rot, higher souls bound
Believe we can learn from the sound
Who make their mark with mighty words
Will you come now and stand your ground
Sound words are craftier than swords
Though to make such a stand as this
You might have to grind in and pound
Unless aimed true, words tend to miss
Will you come now and stand your ground
Russell Sivey
Entrant into Debbie Guzzi's "Stand" contest
9/16/2012
Categories:
craftier, life, words,
Form: Quatern