Herons Poems | Examples

Sunset In Florida On The Gulf Of Mexico

The sea is still, a painted glass,
Its breath a hush upon the shore,
As golden light begins to pass
Through skies that blaze and burn no more.

The herons call in liquid cries,
Then vanish in the amber haze,
And clouds drift low like lullabies
Composed in fire for end of days.

A sailboat waits—its canvas furled—
As if it, too, would pause and dream,
While orange melts to rose, then pearl,
And stars awake in quiet gleam.

The palms lean close as if they yearn
To kiss the sun’s last glowing thread—
O heart, how often must we learn
To love the light before it’s fled?

A Pond's Melody

A Pond’s Melody

dragonflies buzzing
spring peepers chirping for mates
splashing fish jumping for meals
blue herons squawking
bilious bullfrogs croaking
quacking mallards leading young

Cauht Under a Fallin Sky

A scything rain crops the high reeds.
Never saw the storm coming,
too busy rowing my mind
through its own river.

The ducks and herons have all gone
they have not flown away,
they have closed their eyes,
and like children have become invisible.

My rowboat is taking on water,
mouth open, I think I am crying the sky.
A small rickety landing
crouches from the downpour
maybe, ten slogging minutes away.

I make the torrent torn bank,
the battered truck I arrived in
has a cold,
its engine coughs, as sodden boots
pump a blind escape route
beyond its drowning windscreen.

Olena Babak's artwork - Spring's Easel explodes Painting Shades

Written: May 03, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand

Olena Babak's artwork Spring's Easel Explodes Painting Shades


( It is more convenient to read the poem while looking at the artwork.)

                  *******************

the light shines in the eye of the whirlwind
whipping vanilla meringue through the clouds
swinging, the swamp lawn shoots over the shore
casting an apricot glow from the shrouds

butterscotch hues lace the periwinkle sky
peach, tangerine, and lavender stripes, too
caramel waves ripple across the lakebed
illuminating the lemon in the zircon view

In lush glades on a cypress-lined isle
pink flamingos find shelter by the trees
blue herons weave twig nests in the boughs
swaying in the warm, tropical-scented breeze

as dusk draws the brightness down to the horizon
Mother Earth downpours on the cornflowers
nourishing buttercups, milkweed, and daisies
while people describe the sprinklers as April showers

Wind in the Night

The night wind was icily cold.
No herons or olive tree warblers flew,
Only hooded black ravens,
preying on the souls of lost men.
More red-pinkish flowers 
dropped from the tree,
leaving the branches bare
until in a few days
the green leaves will sprout,
and the tree will remain flowerless,
an ugly sight, shunned by all. 
 
Suddenly the wind dropped.
He felt despair, sullen and dejected.
Soon no one heard of him anymore.
Some say he hanged himself
upon the very tree that sheds its flora,
Others believed he fell on a stump
that pierced his bowels as he lived
a recluse amongst an unknown tribe.
Others made him their hero 
just for the sake of being different.
But he was seen no more.
 
The icy night wind blew,
the Judas tree shed its odorless flowers,
as true lovers escaped to scented bowers.

Lamb To The Slaughter

Gentle tributary
of a hill-born river
suburban lake caressed
acres of fertile land -
paddy rich, growing fields

Schools of fish raced at depths
water-birds, herons, egrets,
warblers, mynas, pipits,
swallows, shikra, barbets, owls
Bowl that held varied lives

The surrounding city
rapidly scales cloud- heights, as
skilled strategists, land grabbers,
investors, policymakers,
now take her on a ride

The silenced birds, once family
to the lively-living lake,
their provider, now watch
from a mile, her being led
like a lamb to the slaughter

chemical sewers, toxic algae
rotting froth, foam, fumes engulf
volatile, fire-prone, wasted,
water body stands scrapped
A stilled lake, beyond repair

The Christmas Alligator

He prowl very still across 
the calm merky waters 
I can see him and he can 
see me with his big yellow 
eyes his pupils are lime 
green slowly he crawls not 
even shooing the cranes 
from off his back he crawls 
past the woodstorck perching 
on one leg the tall Cypress 
trees seems to sway as the 
moisture dampens the earth 
it's July already Christmas 
trees are ready to be cut and 
shipped off in time for the 
Christmas season I love this 
time of year although the heat 
covers the swamp not a breeze 
in sight the female alligators 
panted all night laying eggs 
upon the drift wood herons 
flying high as egrets feast 
on snakes the sun peeks in 
around noon as the alligators 
approached the grass sun 
bathing watching the golfers 
tee off sipping brandy in all 
this heat commotion beckons 
someone fishing just lost a limb 
my mind wanders the nature 
of this prehistoric giant unseen 
until prey invade his space again
chomp bones breaking cracking 
like branches the lake swells wails 
screeching lots of feathers the 
deer rush through the forest just
keep moving continue on stop your 
squawking and keep on walking

Fleeting sparks

On a vacation trip to the Susunia hills 
Green paddy fields smiling outside 
Trees happy in the robes of silk
Sun in the game of seek and hide

Quite a long pine standing in front 
Light green looks like in your eyes 
Great banyan tree from a deep bough
looking at me, in wonder-struck eyes 

Before our eyes the hills slowly move out 
narrating the stories of dense green curves 
In the sky graze the white lambs and cows 
In the branches, galore of whistling birds 

Fleeting sparks, from our petals and thorns 
Ephemeral light in the wings of herons

Sun watching over the Lake

Sun gazing throughout 
the sensual faint hues 
dazzling off the lake 
the holy spirit appears 
in my midst while 
giant Egrets land 
on cool waters
as thousands of 
white herons perch 
nestled so completely 
calming my gentle soul
while I rest overlooking 
America

Rush hour on Sanibel Island

Sand dollars covers the crusted sandy shores 
after the tides roll in and back the sea turtles 
scurry across tiny crabs while sea urchins lie 
on their backs herons scratch their long legs 
sleeping wood storks perch alongside drift wood

while the pecking egrets whistle tiny hints 
of sullen chatter cunning pelicans quickly dive 
for their lunch while pink flamingos wildly dances 
as the colorful peacocks shows off their new hats 
the shelling begins with bronzed star fish nesting
 
upon the calm edges of tomorrow carving deep 
sand dunes watching crawling sea horses gallop 
while the sun peeks in around noon sun showers 
sprinkles giant rain drops creating tiny hues of private 
rainbows my bicycle bell chimes nearby the boat house 

calling to Joe's crab shack in time for Izzy's to serve 
fresh stuffed flounder to go with the blue berry scone
from Pete's Ice cream shop while craving clam chowder 
I began to whisper lyrical tropical tunes with such ease 
while simply embracing this sensual soft Caribbean breeze

when florida got shy

when my river ran into your waterfall
startled egrets and alarmed herons
reached for the sky

the claws of surprised osprey let go
of wriggling fish

for a long moment
florida became a frozen lake

you could see the stunned faces
of stopped clocks
trapped beneath the ice

when we plunged
into each other unheeding
of time and place

plastic flamingos
and pink barbie dolls
flew away
in the wide open eyes
of passing snowbirds

Haiku 198 avene

rainbow archway dips
windswept foliage embrace~
wading white herons

12/5/2023

Flight of Herons

In the gray clear sky
  prior in  bow, now arrow
    the herons  free fly

Brooding Nimbus

Blackish, brownish, and greyish clouds on zenith call,
The white lambs like the ones below, unheeding, crawl;
The immaculate white egrets in elation,
Mock the grey herons, in calm Zen meditation;
Kow-kow of cuckoos and the coo-ee of koels,
Sound and resound in the idyllic nature strolls...!

A sense of sadness, yet, surrounds my whole being,
A bit of depression evokes a forced fleeing;
Memories fly beyond realms of nostalgia,
And soon turn into terrible cephalalgia;
Your flight beyond the skies toward spaces unknown, 
Comes to stay in the nimbus of my mind, forlorn...!

Those plants and flowers; butterflies and honeybees,
Those streams and rocks and mossy slippery tall trees;
Those frogs and fish and clams and mussels and wrasses,
Those fine foams collected around like molasses;
All these bring to my mind those golden days bygone,
Come back, if you can, dear, that I may find new dawn...!!!


20 June 2023
Any Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori

Strange News From Florida

The alligators will not stay in the water,
they head for strip malls, for chicken noodle joints
or sports bars for fish taco or spicy wings.
They get their nails done in a Korean salon
paying in Spanish gold.

The two legged; 
the cranes, herons, and humans
edge around the gators.
Occasionally, rowdy boys bounce stones off 
their scaly hides.
The unflappable crocodilians slyly grin 
for they are ecologically moving-in.
Shrewdly, the reptiles are styling 
alligator belts and boots, or sell gator skin handbags 
from wayside stalls and booths.

The Floridians have become inured
to these green interlopers. Some seeing opportunity, 
rent them housings with few tenancy rules
and ‘must have’ pools.
Sadly many furry pets keep going missing;
and not just the Cypress trees are stumped.

It’s a new era, one to be nearer together.
Undocumented or free-range, no longer estranged.
but one shared love for chicken, be it raw, fried 
or grill flamed.

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