Ermine Poems

No Crown Do I Hold Dear

Asking an artist to control their senses
is akin to instructing a lark not to sing.
A painter would refuse such pretenses
and a poet could never do such a thing.

Bind my hands but don’t empty my ink well.
Leave me a scrap of paper to write upon
for it is my compulsion to break any spell
that steals my thoughts at first light of dawn.

No crown of a kingdom would I hold dear,
and no scepter would fit better in my hand
than the pen I cherish and always keep near
to capture rhymes at my heart's command.

I must fly free when a poem is being born.
Uncaged to wander in meadows for hours,
to write sonnets about a rose and its thorn,
darkness of mourning and summer showers.

Each line I pen is a precious jewel, a rare gem
that no one else can ever claim as their treasure.
No velvet cloak will I wear, with an ermine hem.
My poems are pearls used to take my measure,

HE SPREADS THE GENES

Drooping petals of ermine white 
mark end of winter days.
Then there follows the purple bright
of first saffron displays.

Our world of dismal grey departs
as comes the colour show
to raise the spirit of our hearts
by bringing warming glow.

Now ends the long hibernation.
Small mammals once more feed. 
Birds returning from migration
are pairing up to breed.

And soon comes rising insect hum
with buzz of bumble bee.    
He flies around to find a bloom
to feed on nectar free. 

In return he takes the pollen
to blooms at some distance,
assisting plant reproduction,
keeping nature’s balance.

SOON THE SAFFRON SHOW

What joy to see the end of winter days
As snowdrops rise with bells of ermine white,
The signal that winter has reached its end.
More hours of precious daylight now appear
And no longer the shroud of gloomy grey.
At last we wake up from that long cold night
And look forward to seeing saffron show
When from the black loam purple petals rise.

Plagiarism

A Thought stands alone; waiting, cold, and shivering.
Yay, succor from a Scribe, who against the slaughter of the innocent, and whose own thoughts are fair, places around the shoulders of the Thought a robe of ermine- this being a robe of magic- the magic and mystery of forefathers, and of footprints of children not yet born.

Now, Thought standing regally, spawns more thoughts,
And thoughts upon thoughts blossom like a tree with fruits; 
Yay, tutti frutti, ample for a slice of fruit to be given to each one  in the crowd.
And the crowd, eating the fruit, began to think,
And so more thoughts were formed.

Halt! Do pray.
While eating fruit one hears a rattle at the door.
Foreshadowing that the door has no lock, it opens furtively, 
(my heart now pounding, inasmuch guests were not expected),
And enters with aplomb, a haughty trickster from the witche's lair.
The trickster grabs the ermine wrap from Thought,
And as quickly leaves the room with the beloved robe.

Once more, Thought stands alone, waiting, cold, and shivering.

Pumpkin Spice Pandemonium

Its sun is brilliant bright and bonny bold,
a lustrous light, largesse in satin sheen.
Intake of breath sensory manifold,
for a warm, welcoming autumnal scene.

Aurora-colored leaves paint the timber
where mountaintops all dress in ermine capes.
Watch crimson clover wave its arms limber
and mighty pines show off their slender shapes.

Delight in unique season's sights and smells,
wintersweet, artic polemonium.
Rejoice in grandeur of the season's spells.
It’s all pumpkin spice pandemonium.

For all God's tireless efforts let us praise
with appreciative heart and voice upraise.

Purple Reign

There is no plum-colored ermine trimmed cloak to be worn, 
and no one's pen is a royal scepter which gems will adorn.
Poets are just ordinary people whose creations are born
from their creative thoughts when hearts are joyful or torn.

There is no regal king to obey when he makes a demand,
nor an army to do his bidding when he barks out a command.
No captains are needed to shout orders. We're all a deckhand.
Court jesters at midnight hour, dipping quills in an inkstand.

So, whether your name is Don Juan, Petunia Pig, or Lil Wayne,
none of us should be proclaiming we're flying the airplane
If it's a throne any of you seek, your attempted coup is in vain.
I only speak for myself when I advocate for "No Purple Reign."

Abdication

I will doff my ermine gown
and take off my kingly crown.
The day declines, the course is run,
on  fleece of gold reclines the sun.

I'll not  retouche the Mona Lisa
or straighten up the Tower of Pisa.
Further work in that connection
I leave to those who seek perfection.

Coronation Day

A Cinderella chariot,
Eight horses in the lead;
Two heavy looking crowns that seemed
Uncomfortable, indeed.

A scepter and an ermine robe,
An orchestra and choir,
With all that pomp and heraldry
Intended to inspire.

The royal family on board, 
Except the ones estranged;
The military marchers 
And the guests, just-so arranged.

Amazing to bear witness to 
The history, the bling.
I joined the world to watch
The coronation of a king.

Ermine

My long neck and blacked-tip tail fascinating
Wowing with agility not imitating
Squirrel, mouse and rats
All of you I track and bats

Funny rabbits  or sad hare
Larger than me I snare
Up and down the tree I chase
Slower than me I praise

I am the smaller predator so brave
Even birds and insects I crave
My lunch, dinner and dessert
You and all I can eat and assert

Birches

crystal, clear, blue skies
grace ermine laden birch trees…
silent, bowed sentries

Earthbound Paradise

Earthbound Paradise

Ruby red sapphire blue blossoms stand,
    in the diamond stream,
        little silver fishes play.

on a sky of robin's shell,
    Cotton puffs of cloud,
        golden gobs of sunlight glow.

Jade jewels of verdant green,
    along broad banks,
        of mink made, grow.

Ermine blasts of petals,
    lie beneath the shadowed shade,
        of tawny trees.

The pulchritude of paradise on earth,
    in my mind's eye clearly seen,
        since birth.
            visited only in a dream.

sometimes no what the time words
flow. © 30 mins ago, Terence Cummings Smith    nature

Winter's Fantasies

Winter’s Fantasies

Winter walks the mountain hills at nightfall
Breathlessly awaiting evening’s first flakes of snow, 
An alpine carnival that rowdy clouds threatened to toss upon their faces;
When, at last, the brumaled storm releases a snowy masquerade
Sweet serenity fills dusky eyes with wistful fantasies of twirling snowflakes,
Visions of barren aspen arms embracing shivering jewels of glittering glitz,
A carnival of crystalline jubilee in wind whipped flakes.

Winter smiles as the evening sky slowly turns her dark side inside out
From black to white to turquoise and to blue
The moon slow pulls herself above these mountain hills in festival
To ride a winter sky watching over midnight’s silver shimmering earth
Alive with twinkling moonbeam stars, bright refractions of sisters in the sky, 
When the mountains glimmer cold as midnight – blue as stars –
Wearing new ermine alpine furs -cloaks of argent sparkle.

1-12-22
Contest: Winter Wonders within Nature
Sponsor: M.L. Kiser

The Meadow

The meadow is putting on its autumn face
With colored cheeks of wild rose blush
Gone are the bluebonnets and periwinkle
Where the orioles flitted about in the sun,
Where insects darted above the wetlands
Gone, too, the dainty Queen Anne's lace
And the blooming lavender so fragrant
We caressed and brought it to our nose,
Drying in cachet's for chest of fine linen
The meadow antipates its ermine stole
With icy crystal jewels on frosted leaves
And cruncy sounds on our morning stroll.

written August 7, 2021

Winter's Face

Winter’s Face

Winter’s chill freezes
 Clear ice castle glazed in frost ~
  North wind fury howls 

Hoar frost coats chinooks
 Artic tempest’s brumaled sighs ~
  Stars wear ermine rime

Silver forest sways   
 Downy blooms of frost flowers ~
  Permafrost garlands 

Snow wears fluffy fleece
 Frozen diamonds of dewdrops ~
  Icicles white fire

Blue icy sunlight
 Twinkles through white sapphire gems ~
  Liquid crystal gleams

Cold breath of snowflakes
 Snow angels fly in blizzards ~
  Realm of snow and ice 

Winter’s frigid face
  Bleak house of glacial wind chills ~
   Ice ribbon white outs

12-15-20

Ku Duet

frail shadows tremble on winter’s garden wall where limbs of bare trees sway

after winds surcease - heavy with tranquility. . . trees with ermine coats


Dec 31, 2019 For the Ku Duet Contest of Silent One

• Short Ermine Poems
• Famous Ermine Poems
• Best Ermine Poems
• Read Ermine Poems
• Long Ermine Poems
• Ermine Quotes