Angela the archer was a romantic, who shot cupid arrows.
Her family thought she was out hunting quail or duck.
She was matching up love matches in the land of Farrows.
The couples would stay together if she had the most luck.
Angela was given opportunity by Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love.
She would say, don’t match this young lady up with any old dope.
This sage entity watched the activity from her throne room above.
Angela always let the arrows fly, along with buckets of hope.
Categories:
farrows, hope,
Form: Rhyme
There goes Pochahontas bent.
Sent with flaming arrows.
All that anger's meant to vent.
Just for faming harrows.
Lost to others who were sent.
Darrring Blaming sparrows.
Cost of all who met their fate
sought for claiming parrows.
All that land was meant to be.
Tribes of mainly darrows.
Lost to others much more fit.
flagrant ignorant farrows.
Brought to wrecken what they did.
Trading Indian Marrow.
Welcomed family to their nest.
Blaten Christian Narrow.
All for honor to the West.
English broken Saroh.
Brought back daughter to the East.
England's married ferro
Host for others who would seek
dangerous paton barrows.
Tsenacommacah Queen to take her crown
to English ratten tarots.
Beloved by all who'd sheikh the name
of English Cotton-Keurro.
Forsaked by all who'd come to claim
her Pochahotas Buenos.
Categories:
farrows, 9th grade, abuse, baptism,
Form: Quatrain
The Breezes flowed through bright verdant meadows
the sky alight in blazing glory of azure and violet
the farmer on his tractor ploughs the field in farrows
pauses to watch the pretty maiden dressed all in scarlet
Golden ribbon in her hair, she brings him his lunch
they sit together in the sun chatting about this and that
as she collects the basket her father points out bunches
of multi coloured flowers down by the river near the muskrat
Her father back at work, she wanders down to the waters edge
picking a lovely posy of the wild flowers to give to her mother
trailing her fingers in the cool waters she lifts her skirt in a wedge
paddles in to cool her feet as it deepens she holds her skirt higher
What bliss to take some time to enjoy the scent of fresh turned earth
to drink in her surrounds and thinks how lucky she is living out here
keeping the age old traditions going, each season a time of rebirth
she heads off back to the farm liking that it is part of the final frontier
Categories:
farrows, farm, flower, happiness, nature,
Form: Rhyme
Arise, you song birds sing in morning dew;
The flow’ry host to colour fields and furrows,
And sap of Spring runs gold in willows veins;
As tender leaves unfold to speak of birth,
Fresh mountain ranges iced give life anew—
While waters melt and stream through cricks and borrows
The gleams of light will melt the winter strains
Though spills of oil have quenched the songs of earth.
The corporate sting of greedful revenue,
Has bankrupt natural wonders—greedy farrows
The eagle has no pow’r to save her eggs,
Tall forests fall and crush the robin’s hue
When flow’ry petals change to black on yellow—
The spotted fawns arise with warbled legs
Categories:
farrows, anger, angst, betrayal, bird,
Form: Sonnet