An Eagle soars high above
His wings outspread, he glides away the day
Like feelings deep within a heart
Trapped inside, sometimes hard to say
He looks for some unsuspecting pray
Any small creature will fit the bill
But like love between two mortal souls
Passion rises at will
Sunlight gleams upon his wings
As he rises so high above
And as our lovers walk down leafy lanes
Their thoughts just filled with love
As the Eagle returns high up to his nest
Out of reach of any prying eye
Our incandescent heartfelt pair
Walk through fields as time gently passes by
As our Eagle settles down to sleep
His daily work now done
Two passionate lovers lay in the long grass
For them true love has begun
I love the month of February,
The shortest and coldest month of the season,
For an array of personal reasons.
And yet, it feels like Feb is the longest,
For the events that happen haphazardly,
Amidst treacherous winter storm blasts.
Quasi everything is frozen and solid near the nest
Of the American bald eagles,
Except the Mardi Gras masks under the rumbles.
February is the season of love,
The month of Saint Valentine,
A quintessential paradise cove,
Where lovers take refuge. Pure, Pristine,
Snowy, short, Pure, dark, and lovely; Feb's now
The celebratory month of Black history,
One wonders why and how
We get the shortest one. It's another story
That we should let the nomad seagulls
Decipher. No bathers on the sandy beaches,
Solely, a few birds are perched on the branches,
Far away from the cribs of the bald eagles.
February is a month of a kaleidoscopic contrast,
Where snowfalls happen quite often,
And hardcore lovers dream warmth under a heaven
Full of hope, love, beauty, and ice.
Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
bald eagles dying from lead for lunch for years - our conscience is seeping
… I wanted to tranform into a leaf,
And observe,
How that handsome eagle
Interacted with his eaglets or with his mate;
The positions they stayed in their still moments,
How they greeted;
Did they look each other in the eye?;
How they interacted with each other
If they had been separated for a long time;
And then I wanted to be transformed into a ghost
And sit in a room
And observe humans;
A family,
A solitary,
A couple;
The place they stayed the most,
Their still hours,
Wach them in their positions as they slept;
eagles circled my yard today
they looked high up, quite far away
or were they buzzards? It is hard to know
their graceful flying was quite a show.
Soaring skies and mountain peaks
Eagles are best known as freedom seekers
Grace and nobility come naturally
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
A crinkled shore on the Upper Peninsula.
We are hunting Golden Eagles
cameras at the ready.
You find a small stone.
On its surface, a
crimp and cockle depiction
of wind and waves
has rucked up an impression
of an eagle in flight.
"Just water-wear."
I say.
You throw it back into Lake Huron,
won’t hold my hand,
won’t even look at me,
until I admit the possibility
of divinely inspired crinkles.
airy peak
above eagle's wings
glorious
Mini-ku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
9/29/2025
it has no legs
yet m o v e s faster
than l**i**g**h**t**n**i**n**g ~
true e°•m°•o°•t°•i°•o°•n°•s
~s~
~g~
~i~
it has no ~w~
yet s~o~a~r~s higher
than e~a~g~l~e~s ~
e°•m°•o°•t°•i°•o°•n ~f~
~l~
~i~
~e~
~s~
'Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! all stand,'
said the bailiff before remand,
as legal eagles had looked for loopholes,
flaws in the law,
large enough to lose a lorry,
is that what they became lawyers for?
If I had taken their advice,
blindly handed out to me,
I'd have gone directly to jail,
if not in a trice.
Attorneys, barristers, solicitors,
ambulance chasers,
searching for victims
so they may litigate,
seen one you've seen them all,
what's not to hate?
Oh, humanity,
Making a welter of things,
Put our brains to better use....
Let's fly like eagles,
To our grail of peace restored,
We don't do perfect, okay.....
May we be blessed to understand what native nations understood
How it’s okay for all of us to be different…
as long as all of us are good…
That if everyone is good…
then everyone will know…
It is not necessary for a crow to be an eagle
or an eagle to be a crow.
“Better is a tree as a home for eagles
than as a perch for crows.”
A phenomenal day not writing poetry..
Watching excellence and physical symmetry!
Creativity in the ads were total artistry…
Halftime show done, with needed decency!
2/9/2025
YAHOO
In the land of Nigeria, strong and bold,
Super Eagles soar, stories to be told.
To the final they’ve flown, no easy feat,
God’s grace and hard work, a victorious beat.
Nwabali guards, a goalkeeping gem,
Protection’s force, a powerful emblem.
Ekong, a titan, no one dares defy,
In the field, his strength reaches the sky.
As the final whistle nears, in the game,
Remember, you’ve won hearts, fame not just a name.
Winners set examples, be a beacon bright,
In victory or defeat, carry the light.
So, on this pitch, dance with skill and grace,
Nigeria’s cheers echo in every embrace.
A funny twist to the serious art,
Go, Super Eagles, play with a joyful heart!
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