Long Aphids Poems
Long Aphids Poems. Below are the most popular long Aphids by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aphids poems by poem length and keyword.
Heqtit spoke to the People
Who's selfishness: wishes to smear the
need of these people. Who strands there
own individual want to compromise the
need of people.
He stood before them and we asked him to be quiet.
We told him not to ruffle the feathers of these ultramean
verdictive wasps. We couldn't convey to him our need to
be said the rabbit. These wasps are not honeybees.
And that ain't honey that ya'll squawking over. We told
Mucky the Frog to chill and when the wasp finish eating the
sweet honeydews produced by the aphids. Can't tell him nothing.
He went over there where the wasp were
looking to snack on the
sap suckers, knowing these wasp would get him.
tongue out and hungry. On one stalk was about twenty aphids
Mucky went ah slerping all of them gone. Then he got to
where the wasp were and one wasp told him gone frog.
Mucky said slerp, slerp and then the wasp got'em. The big wasp
told him he was Zbutes I Ego, I found out later
they called him the Ego Tamer!
The rooster led his harem forth
into the garden for a party
There they would dine from mother earth
Aphids on roses, worms they ate harty
Queen Ann's lace was laced with caterpillars
And rolly pollies ate Day Lilies' leaves
Biddies fed 'pon tiny grasshoppers
for summer was there to please
The Bee Balm and Fever Few had not been
touched by summer's butterfles; Rebecca
had yet to open her blooms; Daisies soon to begin.
Spring blossoms now nearly gone, summer the garden wrecker
The rooster, his hens and biddies loved the party
As among the flowers they pranced and ate smartly
Inspired by Cyndi MacMillan's contest not an entry...
And this is the origin of victory:
A man once went to sow his mustard seed;
The path to his garden was impassable muddy
And the weather was discouraging awry,
Thin drizzle and heavy downpour alike
Made clothes stick to his sodden body;
He however firmly held his seed
For in his mind was registered the re-affirming need
To reap abundantly when the harvest came.
And though tares throttled his seed,
He one by one weeded them out
Until the crops were dancing in the freedom of breeze.
But after a time rather short
Pests and disease fell upon the green garden
And all crops were about to wither as a result,
But the industrious farmer fought them strong;
He sprayed chemicals and with his hands crushed the aphids dead,
And after a time surprisingly short villagers gathered around in a throng
Wondering how he managed to have his garden green
When they all stared with uncertainty the prospect of famine.
And thieves tried to steal at night
But the diligent farmer smoked them out;
He labored steadily to the end
Until he harvested barns and barns before the drought
While some neighbors chose suicide
Than face the gallows of hunger.
Others had no where to hide
And were seen borrowing with shame
While blaming the weather for theIr misery
And cursing God's benevolent Name!
This parable is for you to unravel
And upon its substance ponder and marvel:
The lazy man blames his tool,
And some have taken Providence for a fool;
They blame the times and others seasons
While the same should supply ample reasons
Why they should succeed to the brim
For nothing without a cause is ever allowed by Him!
From deep inside her complex nest
She rules her colony
And sees that all the others there
Her orders they obey.
Hundreds of her daughters there live.
Her strict rules they all fear.
Their fathers now all of them dead.
Only females live here.
Each one has well defined duties
And daily they must work,
Cleaning and fettling this huge nest.
But beware those who shirk.
A long evolved social structure
And all know where they stand,
To keep the colony as one
Accepting queen’s command.
Those daughters can’t attract the males
For she made each sterile
So that they have no distractions
And to queen stay servile.
Wingless, they cannot fly away
But may crawl from the nest
To milk honeydew from aphids.
Taste fresh juice at its best.
Each springtime the queen will grow wings
To fly and find the males
And so becomes fertile again,
Producing more females.
The queen ant lives for some decades.
Every spring, eggs she lays.
Each daughter worn out within months
And males last but two days.
A thought bubble arose, from an unslept head.
“I'll give you a single white rose, I’ve grown.”
It sounded sweet, simple, and wonderfully romantic—
Before I proposed the notion, to my rubble-despoiled garden.
Thus began my toil and trouble, kerfuffle and struggle.
I pulled out weeds, dug through mud, mulch, muck and mysteries.
The wheelbarrow wobbled; wandered off with the watering can.
Even the worms wiggled worried, wrinkled looks about my methods.
In the hole, I planted a single white-budded rose, bare-rooted.
I covered it with soil, sweetly sour with well-rotted cow manure.
The rose grew despite my heavy-handed, brown-thumb pokes and prods.
White buds burst, then browned off, blighted around their rims.
Tiny thrips and aphids threw tantrum bombs inside petal towers.
I peered, puffed, and huffed, and quite frankly— panicked!
Perfection proved particularly picky, for a plain white rose.
At last, one lovely morn, a lovely white rose, arose to greet me.
Among the blighted, shriveled blooms, it beamed like moonlight.
I clipped it carefully, cradling its cool, cream precious bloom.
Surely, such devotion, deserved delighted, dazzling applause!
I presented it proudly, practicing my grandest ever garden bow.
“To give to thee, this single white rose I’ve grown.”
She smiled softly, accepting my precious treasure trove rose.
Then she paused, as though, searching for, still kinder words.
“What a lovely thought,” she said, looking blissful at me.
“Sorry, but I really wanted a bunch of red ones instead!”
Behind us, the white rose quivered, quaked and chuckled!
As my thought bubble burst above the compost. - Pop! Bang! Purr!.
In my favorite store the "Book Nook",
on a leaf I saw a ladybug reading a book!
She looked up with the tiniest smile,
said, "Hello, have a seat, read awhile."
Astounded I was by this clever little bug,
an insect that I just wanted to hug
and found myself engaged in a conversation,
about the wisdom of the insect nation.
So profound and wise I found her to be,
she read to me, while swinging her tiny feet;
said she, with tiny voice, "Did you know,
that my species allows the plants to grow?"
"We dine on thousands of aphids, you see;
while they get pollinated by the bees.
To faeries I often give many rides,
throughout the gardens, far and wide."
"Shall I tell my cousins of your garden needs?
I assure you, with our work you'll be pleased."
So, about three thousand I did invite
and they keep our garden growing just right.
2-21-2023
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Eve Roper
Mayflies
by Michael R. Burch
These standing stones have stood the test of time
but who are you
and what are you
and why?
As brief as mist, as transient, as pale ...
Inconsequential mayfly!
Perhaps the thought of love inspired hope?
Do midges love? Do stars bend down to see?
Do gods commend the kindnesses of ants
to aphids? Does one eel impress the sea?
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do the stars
regret the glowworm’s stellar mimicry
the day it dies? Does not the world go on
as if it’s no great matter, not to be?
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose.
And yet somehow you’re everything to me.
Originally published by Clementine Unbound. Keywords/Tags: May, mayfly, mayflies, spring, time, daffodils, absence, missing you, mist, transient, transience, pale, inconsequential, stars, sea, everything, universe, A. E. Housman quote
She’s a pretty little lady
with a polka-dotted dress;
sometimes her mood is yellow
other times, brown or red.
Scientists call her Cleopatra,
of the Coccinellidae race;
Her top wings are elytra
protecting those below their space.
A family member of the Beetles,
no, not the ones who sing their songs;
the insects family of beetles,
is that to which, she belongs.
A gentle friend to farmers,
with whom, children love to play;
and a friend of natural gardeners,
garden’s are where she prefers to stay.
Her favorite meal is aphids,
tiny irritating things;
destroying crops and veggies,
that Mother Nature brings.
She’s a classy little lady,
just lovely to her core;
her mates and her, diurnal,
you’ve met them all before.
We’ve played with them as children
and they crawled around our hands;
though they are cold-blooded,
winter’s harsh for them to withstand.
Like tiny kittens, they all
gather to hibernate, during
Old Man Winter’s raging call;
these creatures so alluring.
8-25-2021
A Brian Strand rime me' Contest Info
Brian Strand
"Light Wings and Gossamer Black"
tears of all the lost years
ghosts' pearls falling softly gossamer black
caressing your sad heart’s crimson
its bleeding broken beautiful cracks
a small heaven winks back
some of your light wings
the other side reflects
some of your light wings
a small heaven winks back
light wings sent for unholy hosts
Inside me there is always you
wormwood wisdom
the killing of time gliding
praying for aphids on the tar plain view
some of your light wings
Blue Silver, Silver Blue
Light Wings
for pearls falling
into your shining pools
spinning softly gossamer black
walking forever towards you
through silver blue
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"My Favourite Ghosts" / Bianca Strega
https://youtu.be/C01MHTTZCfs
"...Terror made me cruel" Wuthering Heights, Bronte
“The people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this you keep them alive.”
"The ghosts of things that never happened are worse than the ghosts of things that did.”
"Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror's least."
Emily Dickenson
Gossamer adj.
Gossamer is something super fine and delicate – like a spider web or the material of a wedding veil.
The original gossamer, from which these meanings come from, is the fine, filmy substance spiders excret to weave their webs. A dress can be gossamer-like, if its fabric is so sheer as to be see-through, or almost.
Blue Silver
"This is why Simon wrote the line "Sing Blue Silver" in lyrics for the song, "The Chauffer": as a child he read a book about time travel, and in it said that allegedly, people who are coming back from a trip in time see blue silver. It adds to the song's supernatural element."
https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/12577/
https://youtu.be/8ZkEF-7I8js
Aphids.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aphid
The King’s Fruit
White apple blossom petals fall like castle fairy snow
Their sweet perfume replaced by tiny green clustered globes
Vying for the knighted honor as the one royal King’s Fruit
When ladybugs arrive in polkadot armor as handmaids resolute
To do battle with pests that leave their sticky stain on virgin leaves
Till the chosen reach autumnal monarch maturity.
5-18-21
Contest: Bite Size Poem 3
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Apple blossoms come in clusters of five or six flowers. Many turn into a tiny globe that could become an apple. As each globe starts to grow they need to be thinned leaving only the largest and healthiest apple. This apple is called “the King’s Fruit.”
Ladybugs are the natural predators of aphids that damaging the foliage and developing apples leaving a sticky residue on leaves. Ladybugs arrive in the spring all on their own. Little miracles.