Fertile Poems | Examples

My Land

My Land

This is my land. 
I will cultivate, love, and cherish my land. 
I will choose when Spring will come, 
I will choose my own Husbandman, 
I will choose if there be none, 
I will choose when the rain will be,  
And choose if and who will plant a seed. 

This is my land. 
My soil will nourish, protect, and feed. 
My soil may remain fallow, 
My soil gives the fruit we need, 
My soil should be hallowed. 
My soil from a will that's freed,
You have no power over me. 

This is my land. 
You have fought, died, and thrown your gold. 
You value this above most things. 
You may scorn this fertile female soul, 
You may deny my right to be, 
You may try to wrest control,
But this land belongs to me. 
Inheritance from the King of Kings, 
Yes, this land belongs to me.

Blowing Blissfully In Immense Wheat Fields of Fertile Minds

Blowing Blissfully In Immense Wheat Fields Of Fertile Minds

Upon the soft winds and the unenduring pallid breeze
with its ragged, hot breath a flaming torch of frozen tease
she that keeps her knives ready to cut in so very deep
and poisons the pleasurable hours that tender heart sleeps
her beauty its mirage displays a glitterings of gold
and her spoken words cried by spirit far too damn bold
she that has the magnificent beauty of a siren's face
stole ravenous beating heart, without any to replace
as I drown in deep waters polluted by her foul breath
I feel the lying whisper of a very painful death
as pale sky and bold seas both cast their powers far adrift
and in glory oft Heaven sent, dear blessings that uplift.

Blowing blissfully in immense wheat fields of fertile minds.
Are visions from word magicians, immeasurably stone blind!

Robert J. Lindley, dark sonnet
March 25th, 1973

Fertile Grounds

A man took his neighbor to court,
though he did what he asked, in short.
For he gave him leave 
to try and conceive:
a surrogate daddy, of sorts.

Suspicions began to arise;
it seemed he’d been tricked, he surmised.
For no child was bred
though they’d shared a bed
in more than seventy tries.

Seems the neighbor’s shots were all blank;
discussions then got rather frank.
Now he’s in a tiz;
their kids were not his -
their marriage was now in the tank.

—————

Can’t make this stuff up!

Fertile Mud

I gasp, for cluttered words dissolve,

clasping at fear for an unknown resolve.

The heartbeat's drummer is out of sync,

reduced to what emotions think. 


Yet in the mighty realm of hope, 

there lies an outstretched cord of rope,

in which to save from tears' great flood,

and flourish a garden with fertile mud.


7-23-2022

Fertile Turtle Named Myrtle

head was potato
now a member of nato
cats with tomato
(catsup) 

hurrah we just won
the greater glory of God
were Peter's peacocks

an operation
which had been called by putin
special military

will catch a big bass
instead of cutting grass
think that we will pass

with comfort and care
plane took off into midair
with some room to spare

terrible turtle
had found her to be fertile
whose name was myrtle

willing and able
to get elbows off table
by both mike and mable

Calendar Sage

Calendar Sage
David J Walker 

The time has come to
Turn the page

The calendar sage 
has spoken

It is autumn 
	And the garden 

Takes one last look at
The sky 

That might try 
one last time

To rain 
Its seeds remain well hidden 

Think of me when
	The first shoots breakthrough

A frosty crusted grave of 
A long fallow winter

God’s fertile Earth
Blessed with the rebirth 

of Spring

On Fertile Ground

woman on her scooter scoops chili
               from her insulated bag
               onto plastic plates
deftly juggling movement while the motor idles

wounded humanity, street people with shock eyes
                 that smash against the heat,
                 form a line
their off beat grins that recall the fertility
                                                            of hope
men accepting plates of food, paper thin pride
soreness in bony bodies that have no words for
                                                                    self pity

stitched to her bike, she dispenses hot food for the
                                    mercurial
in city streets, a sparse ground with patches
                                                               of charity
fertile soil for those tossed like bags in a storm
           burdened by a brutal calm
           devoid of the green weeds of ego






Poem composed: August 18/21

On Fertile Ground

On Fertile Ground  
(A Settler’s Song of Thanks)

We settled here on fertile ground.
Trees filled the orchards all around,
and fields of crops would soon appear.
On fertile ground we settled here.

We bought some land – my love and I.
Amazed were we by spacious sky
from which rains fell; our crops were grand!
My love and I – we bought some land.

Fruits plump and sweet; gold-ripened corn;
our harvest truly was a horn
of plenty, with so much to eat:
gold-ripened corn; fruits plump and sweet.

With thanks much owed, we praised the Lord,
and I was proud of my adored
who by my side reaped what we sowed.
We praised the Lord with thanks much owed.

On fertile ground, long-settled here
with healthy children, it is clear
to this dear land we’re ever bound -
long-settled here on fertile ground.

Aug. 12, 2021 (this is a form called swap-quatrain)
For A Brian Strand Your Choice Poetry Contest

On Fertile Ground

On fertile ground, we pray, in surrender
Each breath anew, beholding in wonder 
Bemused not by illusions, feet on ground
We see life as it is; merry-go-round 
Mindful that our touch, to each be tender

No bias held, for colour or gender
Love suffused, leaving no hearts asunder
Inner sound current within us resounds
On fertile ground

Though body decays, like dying ember
Heightened rapture of bliss, soundless thunder
No longer are by fears and desires bound
Within spacial heart, soul luminous found
Esoteric truths, we slowly garner
On fertile ground

31-July-2021

This or That, Vol 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

On Fertile Ground

From the ground, we rise and tire. 

Please do not turn on that fire!

You will leave us as smoke and weed. 

When really, we are humans that bleed. 

7/29/2021

On Fertile Ground

Edward Ibeh

Fertile Fields

Fertile Fields
By Migdalia Torres

A cobbled stone made of red brick, which 
I picked up and placed on a solid white 
rock pressed against Venus whose tales of 
Fertile Fields were just not true 

The myths of the Greek Goddess Blue Moon 
which shined against the Valleys Green Tall Fields 
brought to mind of a Paper Copy Photo I had 
of her riding upon a Big Charade of Fire, being pulled 
by Two White Pegasus

 
I started to walk alone in the Center of the 
Field, when suddenly a Big Strong Breeze 
blew the photo out of my hands and into a  
Big Leafless Oak Tree 

Then a Storm gusted Tornado Wind blew and raise 
the old photo past the clouds and into the 
midnight sky 

Good-Bye I waived to the paper photo

You are right to be set free

The Fertile Fields will become fertile once again when all the 
Greek Goddesses join Venus and come down as friends

Fertile Soil

Let’s dive into our mind
Look around – perhaps nothing is as it seems
There’s a unique perception
An amalgamation - of what we call me

Like rich fertile soil
Brimming with potentialities
Nature verses nurture
So grow the seeds

The roots grow deep
Manifesting in the subconscious mind
Breaking the surface
Revealing the crops – behavior becomes defined

The harvest can be bountiful 
We truly reap what we sow
The health of the product
Contingent on the knowledge we know

Thoughts left undiscerned
The weeds spread like wild vines
Effecting the crops
Damaging – the internals in our mind

So let’s dive inside
Look around and take a mental note
Let’s clarify our perspective
Our humanity – our future will grow

If you don’t like the crops
Take action – not poetic hyperbole 
It’s all in our mind
An amalgamation of you and me

Fertile Flowered Heart- -

Fertile Flowered Heart
The flower of your heart;
Sprouts and grows apart;
Reaches your mind, and imparts
Caresses your outer marks
Sprouts and grows apart;
Such a pure and loving heart
Caresses your outer marks
Good and awesome
Such a pure and loving heart
Reaches your mind, and imparts
Good and awesome
The flower of your heart;


1/7/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2020

Fertile Myrtle- -

FERTILE MYRTLE

Fertile Myrtle,
Was Mother Gooses’ cousin?
And was in the habit, of
Extreme-procreating, she was a rabbit;
And was a force of habit;
Nature calls me or my other children...wow?


9/13/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©

Fertile and Silent

Making love to the words,
  our tryst lasted till dawn

The sun now a blanket,
  covered verses to warm

Making love to the words,
  all new phrases to sleep

Resting fertile and silent
  —until daylight retreats

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

• Short Fertile Poems
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