Long Ants Poems
Long Ants Poems. Below are the most popular long Ants by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ants poems by poem length and keyword.
Listening to the trees,
Touching the wind,
Dancing with falling leaves,
Finding her strength from nature.
Being nourished and refreshed.
Sunlight filling her senses,
Moonbeams touching her dreams.
Sitting among trees with animals.
Watching a young fawn,
A squirrel eating from her palm
Giving her pleasure.
Feeling close to the universe
As you can only do out in nature.
Sensing the strength and love
That we are capable of offering,
Receiving and letting grow.
Feeding on the beauty,
Peace and timeless goodness
That are all around us.
Finding delight in new blooms,
In fresh green grass and old climbing
Vines heavy with wild grapes.
Watching the ants in their orderly society,
The busy honeybee fulfilling it's preordained destiny.
Nature is touching her soul with it's Beauty
Giving her back her belief
In the goodness of mankind.
Glistening, wet diamonds are falling on her
Touching her brow
Wetting her unruly hair
Cooling her mind.
The earth smells of autumn,
Raindrops drumming on fallen leaves
Beetles scurrying to safety.
She smiles.
"The Sleeping Man at the Picnic"
What dreams this man has
to escape a world
where his humanity
is a contagion
soldier ants swagger
holding gangster guns
he’s counting numbers
to avoid the dream
of the one he
shares with
the innocence
of children
Outside the turmoil
we are a pin prick
of light in the
eye of God’s needle
Inside us
the threads of
a road to an
interior universe
so much vaster
unexplored
Our lives
are optical
illusions
We are
all sleeping
at the Picnic
Lost
in the purpose of dreaming
Searching
for the rhetoric in meaning
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Aah Harry ! How can we not ode a domestic cat
cousin of the great Lyrans of Cosmic Fate : leo, jaguar, panther, lynx, tiger, cheetah to name but a few — you carry their genetic makeup across dews, giving these chosen their gross due ~
geometric accurate your agility to leap onto roof
imitating their ricochets into branches rustle, to view jungle, forest or curious humans tour ogling
as you sound your mellow meows to starlings
harking —- even to crows soaring, cat darling !
across time’s hours your intuition assess a neighbour’s aches and pains, where you visit
to dish cat medicine by purring for gain, so sane
is your senses, paws not profane, making us guffaw our admiration raw —-
salute we your leadership as you hold whisker
seminars at night discussing needless cat fights check mates who are late, ruin ardent rodent runs through drains insane, shaking your
head like a lion did his m a n e !
comical beloved Harry ! how you wrinkle your nose at flavoured sardines we feed you as a treat
no way will you eat what we think of as sweet
sit you meditative at garden gate, patient for a
purr-fect date ~ she does not arrive, contrived another mate ——
care you not since sovereignty is your mark, hark
independence gains your favour to savour every
moment free — no leash for your gallant strolls
among trolls, your joy watching crawling ants
kiss-kiss as they scurry in a hurry collecting
winter stores galore for quiet insect snores
Aah Harry ! let this be one ode to you, another shall be sung, maybe scrolled, to be sold, on a
“I love my cat’s hat” mug, so snug —
sadly, you do not want my bug hug
today, you say…
as you rush into garage hay !
—————————-
Third Placement: Ode to Cat
August 26
I can’t bear that rock in my shoe,
As I sit, I glance up mesmerized by the sunset’s view.
Seven deep in a grocery line,
The wonderful innocent stare of a baby and mine align.
Two minutes ‘til the microwave dings.
I’m lifted on wings while the voice above nostalgically sings.
Dropping my change all over the ground,
It’s a wonder these tiny ants can amass such a mound.
Traffic slowed to a halted gridlock,
Listen to the honks leading that swaying vee of a flock.
Keys locked inside my car,
The horizon is so clear today, I can see so far.
Coffee dripped upon my shirt,
I’ll go in and change giving my darling a romantic flirt.
My dog drops a load on their lawn,
To their magnificent flower garden my eyes are drawn,
Drive thru with limited crew,
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that particular sunrise hue.
If only I could stop on my own accord,
I would readily see creation’s beauty gifted from my Lord.
It’s late August, and there are some hot days yet ahead. The heating system of the earth has gotten the word. It is time to start down shifting to lower temperatures. Such orders are clearly understood by Mr. Summer. He has to share the climate stage with Miss Autumn.
Standing ready for their commanding orders are the weeds and the seeds.
Flowers and trees are listening, as are beautiful birds and honey bees.
Ants and squirrels gather and store their harvest, but continue to feed.
Nature’s bells slowly ring as summer’s Season begins to recline and recede.
I whisper a prayer about our many creeds, selfish deeds, and our greed.
May we pause and calm ourselves like the creatures and trees of nature.
May we fine tune our hearts and open our ears to hear that clarion sound.
May we respond to Creation’s King, and experience a ‘Selah Season’*
08252016 cj PS (*Selah, a Hebrew word indicating a musical pause)
When I look at the sky or at the ocean from the beach
I cannot lie, it makes me wanna stand up and preach
And when I look at the flowers as the insects scurry about
In all of my hours, I have never had a doubt
His Creation is so vast yet so individually unique
Yet time doesn’t last slipping away, even as I speak
Look out your window, just take a look outside
And I’m sure you’ll see what can never be denied
And when the stars come out the crickets so quick to orchestrate
The geese continue their route
never early, never late
With the ants building below my dog looks into my eyes
As if he wanted to show that even he does too realize
Oh my Lord is so great. How could others not see
But it’s never too late if you realize you want to be free
Just look at His Creation from the seen to the unseen
And if you too can’t contain your elation then you know exactly what I mean
August dog-days
gardens parasol
....bedecked
picknicing wasps
wander unchecked
tidelines explored
on a rockpool beach
driftwood stranded
bleached
hammock sleeping
'neath a halo'ed sun
a signal
from thunder clouds
curtains of rain
turn day
.into night
august gold
becomes monsoon
spider's web
where fruit appear
days of moisture
lie ahead 'til the
end of year
fading poppy pods
steeple the scene
where grasses sway
&winged ants fly
in the benign heat
to blur the sky
then
thunder becomes
a welcome storm
swallows start to pack
& begin
to say good-bye
Darting Arrows
Skippy shadows,
at the corners of the walls,
ceilings, and floors.
Easiest seen by those that drink,
do drugs, foreign or domestic.
But they are not by themselves...
You know what I am talking about,
once you have seen them.
Don't let them know you have.
Be quiet.
Fear is what they feed on.
God did not give you that spirit.
He tells you, that you are valuable.
And... You Are!
Spiders may be,
sometimes ants,
but all crickets, they do the dance.
Evil in plain sight.
Swallow hard,
do not take flight.
The armor of God is needed.
To wear it... get on your knees!
It is not heavy or a burden,
but light for the fight ahead.
Sweet land in the distance,
the future of Jubilee.
Reborn.
August Sunshine
August sunshine feels different
Than sharp newborn rays
Of afternoons in June…
Round,
August sunshine tells
Of ripening
And growing large –
Laying still
Watching the breeze tickle
Mature birch leaves
Until they quiver
In delight
And dance.
August sunshine is about napping
And waking
Waking and pausing,
Seeing the depth of blueness in the sky
All over again
As if for the first time
Mouth open in wonder;
Letting warmth
Slowly seep
Into cold bones and weary souls –
Being still
While butterflies
Float
Past summer visions.
August sunshine is about
Looking
For the moonrise in paleness
To light up the way
For summer shooting stars;
The feel of hats –
The smell of suntan cream
Winding down,
Gathering,
Resting
In the sound of children
In the backyard
Ice in glasses,
The smell of newly cut grass.
August sunshine is about
Seeing the action of life
Write itself
Into
The afternoon
Then watch
Parades
Of boats
Stroll by on lakes –
Or buzz the shore
Pulling water skiers -
Tiny dots like aquatic ants
Surfing
On summer waves.
It is about being enveloped –
Watering – weeding - getting ready
And the whoosh
Of rainbirds
Sprinklers
Fire hydrants
Making puddles –
Water trickling down
Furrows
Of the skin and soil;
Opening windows - closing shutters
Ice cream vendors and thunderstorms
Announcing their arrival
In tinkling bells and booming laughter.
August sunshine feels different.
An old man takes his daily walk, his old dog limping after
hobbling down the city streets, to where it does not matter
familiar faces they do meet, some nod, some at times greeting.
With heavy footsteps he goes on, gnarled hand on his cane, gripping
near church steps, they walk by at dawn, where homeless men are sprawling
ancient man and ancient dog, by trash cans, ants are crawling.
Through misty morning fog, the pair are viewed by God above
heaven watches them with care, covering man and beast with love
angels know the when and where, and guide their footsteps homeward.