Long Barn owl Poems
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Little adobe house on 160 acres
She grows flowers. I grow corn
Tomatoes, watermelon, etc.
Peace, love, hope, and joy
Grow themselves
Porch faces orange blazes
Draped over the rugged Mules
And a barn owl hoovers over
An old water tank with a bunny
In her talons for her
So-ugly-they're-cute hatchlings
Ladder leaned on it
to climb up and see 'em
Brothers and sisters drive from town
For Bible Study
Every Friday night...
After the Word there's coffee and treats
And men load up the truck
Armed rabbit assassins
Patrol Charlie's alfalfa fields
While back at the house
Women laugh and
Children play
Extra rooms
For friends who want to
Spend the night
Saturday mornings
Coffee and bacon waffles
In Charlie's pond across the road
Bass to catch
Beautiful, glorious days
Last night I dreamed
That in this economy
Where shelter's scarce
I was back at the ranch
With a hundred millenials
All of whom, knew me
The adobe house was remodeled
Terracotta with green and red
Lots of black wrought iron
Railings, fences, and gates
Rooms added onto
Big as a mansion
Dirk came to weld more iron
With his crew
And I was trying to make everyone leave
Then I went out towards the pond
And got lost in a huge coal field
A stranger appeared and I asked
How to go back to the road
And a sheriff stopped me with his gun
We, (well it felt like you)
Took his gun from him
But you wouldn't let me shoot him
And I didn't
I woke up... missing all that we had
Your home-made bread
Love by the fire
After kids went to bed
It was incredible
What we did
What we made
What we grew
Our little boys in their cowboy hats
Playing under the giant cottonwood
Our big sprawling porch every evening
Watching the orange purple fire
Spread itself over the valley
And fade into embers
Sparkling the big black night
Like those sunsets, we raged and died
Time after time after time after time
Until we didn't
My dear, sweet,
Warm, loving,
Beautiful
Ex-
You're still so good to me after all
Praying for your family
In that little old church
Where I lost my faith so long ago
Quit being the man you used to know
Something I still believe in though
And always will
*
In the silence of the morning
broken and disturbed
with birdsong hardly curbed
I walk sleepily to my back porch
coffee already in hand
to sit and listen to the woodland
When I’m startled by new sound
I hear close above my head
the distinct hiss-shwep being said
In unison, we both swivel our heads
I, to find a barn owl sitting
she to discover me silently emitting
and there in the branch ten feet higher
her mate tucks his round head
eyes staring at me like the ghostly dead
Barely moving with soft hissing breath
holding sway with great diligence
she looks about with quiet vigilance
Their hiss-shwep sounds are being sent
menacing to the little field mouse
owls hoping for breakfast in the house
Wings spread in silent swooping glide
quick to lower branch and tree
behold two more owls are perched to see
In dark foliage mottled feathers blend
hunters sitting quiet side by side,
the search now looks quite intensified
Then quiet as quiet as an owl can be
down one swoops to the grassy ground
and back to the tree in quick turn around
a fight erupts with all wanting a little bite
but he says no-no, this is my hunting treat
you have to get your own breakfast meat
*This is actually a Rhyming Tercet (terza rima is a form of a tercet)
~3 line form stanzas~
6-26-2020
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW POETRY
(1)any form any theme Poetry Contest
1st Place
The garden curled around us as we sat beneath the stars,
In the silver shine of Venus and the rust red glow of Mars.
The brandy was between us and we toasted life and love,
While the moon conducted music from the dark green leaves above.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
Vintage brandy in the bottle seemed to ask us both to drink
And the flowers that were watching clearly knew what they should think.
Then your glass was finally empty and you laid it to one side
While you closed your eyes and kissed me and the barn owl tried to hide.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
There was silence in my city as your lips were joined to mine
And I tasted all of heaven and a little brandy wine.
As our bodies settled closer and we melted into one
With embarrassed little giggles that were sure to signal fun.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
So we gathered up the glasses and we put the stars to bed
Then we walked along the garden path, my shoulder 'neath your head.
We pulled each other closer and we whispered with our hands
That tonight is all that matters and the whole world understands.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
THE OWL
Said to be the wisest,
Of all the birds around,
Because he is nocturnal,
And sits without a sound.
Enormous eyes see everything,
That goes on 'round about him.
When he takes flight his giant wings,
Expand to swiftly glide him,
So when he swoops upon his prey,
They scarce have time to see,
Silent death come swooping down,
And Owl claims his fee,
For being nightly sentinel,
And give his eerie cry,
Whenever those who stranger seem,
Happen to pass by.
He makes his home in wooded glade,
Or barn or in the fields,
He's comfy where his prey is close,
And where Nature yields,
The kind of food and shelter,
Needed for his kind,
As Mankind's need for space still grows,
That becomes hard to find.
Some think that he has powers,
A magic bird is he,
Familiar with the spirits,
And occult things that be;
But Owl is a simple bird,
He is no more, no less,
And if he knows much more than we,
Is anybody's guess.
Judy Ball
A beautiful bird of prey, the owl comes in many sizes and shapes from the Great
Horned Owl to the cute little Barn Owl. They're great for keeping vermin out of grain
for farmers and out of houses for city dwellers.
They're very intelligent and even make good petss but they're an endangered
species like most wild animals due to our growing need to take more and more from
the land. Pretty soon the world won't be able to support us anymore.
THEN WHAT WILL WE DO?!
Said to be the wisest,
Of all the birds around,
Because he is nocturnal,
And sits without a sound;
Enormous eyes see everything,
That goes on 'round about him.
When he takes flight his giant wings,
Expand to swiftly glide him,
So when he swoops upon his prey,
They scarce have time to see,
Silent death come swooping down,
And Owl claims his fee,
For being nightly sentinel,
And give his eerie cry,
Whenever those who stranger seem,
Happen to pass by.
He makes his home in wooded glade,
Or barn or in the fields.
He's comfy where his prey is close,
And where Nature still yields,
The kind of food and shelter,
Needed for his kind.
As Mankind's need for land still grows,
That becomes hard to find.
Some think that he has powers;
A magic bird is he,
Familiar with the spirits,
And occult things that be;
But Owlis a simple bird,
He is no more, no less;
And if he knows much more than we,
Is anybody's guess.
Judy Ball
A beautiful bird of prey the Owl comes in many sizes and shapes from the Great Horned Owl to the cute little Barn Owl.
They're great for keeping vermin out of the grain for farmers and out of the house for city dwellers.
They're very intelligent and even make good pets but they are an endangered species like most wild animals because of our growing need to take more and more from the land.
Pretty soon the world won't be able to support us anymore.
THEN WHAT WILL WE DO???
The fire, this fire...
Any fire, the fire..
Still the only thing
I know which lets
so easily go, bit
after bit of itself -
and, what falls away
falls up.
The red, upfalling snowflakes-
free to dance into the rising Night.
The smoke curls, twists
and snakes toward a promised
indistinguishment: the Sky.
Not the fire, this fire...
Not any fire, the fire...
Falls into itself,
quietly lowering log to coal.
Each heated to weaken,
to lastly live in the Sacred Bosom
of this fire's Heart, of the fire's
Heart.
Ten logs; one for each direction -
The Cardinal and the Betweenings,
as well the Sky and Mother under
All.
These last two perched one on the other -
The slender Skylog atop
the two-hand, "bend your knees."
Pachamama there, as ever,
supportively and unthankedly
Beneath.
The waters so well hid within
these woods whistle free now -
Listen closely! Behind the crackle,
harmonizing with the barn owl.
And these smokes
rise from reds
and tonight curl into
an unseen embrace -
with this fog.
Smoke lost in fog...
Fog lost in smoke...
Every "Once upon a time"
has its time and then it's time
comes... a The End, a Fin
will be our lost smoke,
our cold Forgot,
our morning ash.
Would that we could
(Would that we wood.)
"Come to the Ground with Grace."
~*~
I am one of nine babies born in a farmer's barn,
The barn is cozy and even has an owl door;
My birth nest so warm with stuff like grandma's yarn,
To keep us fed- into the dark mom will soar.
The barn is cozy and even has an owl door,
My perfect ears, heard the farmer call us owls;
To keep us fed- into the dark mom will soar,
While waiting for food I do whistles and howls.
My perfect ears, heard the farmer call us owls,
Oh, we are the only owl with a heart-shaped face;
While waiting for food I do whistles and howls,
Today I went hunting- had my own prey to chase.
Oh, we are the only owl with a heart-shaped face,
Felt the urge to leave today- on my vibrant wings;
Today I went hunting- had my own prey to chase,
I flew to a church steeple- made a nest of odd things.
Felt the urge to leave today- on my vibrant wings,
My birth nest so warm with stuff like grandma's yarn;
I flew to a church steeple- made a nest of odd things,
I am one of nine babies born in a farmer's barn.
_______________________
January 31, 2016
Pantoum/Personification/The Barn Owl
Copyright Protected, ID 16-750-702-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Owls Personification,
Sponsor, Eve Roper
Second Place
"A spell cast beneath the moon will not grant
what a lonely heart desires." ~Poet's quote
She wears the feverish pink blush of innocence
But this young enchantress has painted her own cheeks.
Her dark eyes, smoke shadowed, she intends wickedness,
casting a spell with the mystical words she speaks.
As a barn owl watches with intense suspicion,
condoning her sorcery with shrill piercing taunts.
Poised, she continues with tenacious petition,
chanting the words of havoc on the man she wants.
Beneath the pallid glimmer of the haloed moon
she summons a nebulous mist up from the sea.
Then, softly singing a beguiling old fey tune,
croons 'til an avian flock appears from her plea.
Ravens do the bidding of her archaic charm.
With an eerie gleam shining in their beady eyes,
they'll encircle the man with their cries of alarm,
cawing the curse to make him love her by sunrise.
She wears the feverish pink blush of innocence,
As a barn owl watches with intense suspicion.
Beneath the pallid glimmer of the haloed moon,
Ravens do the bidding of her archaic charm.
December 9, 2020
My Created Form~Rhyme4 Mix
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Nature watches
Nature waits
Nature wants you to grow.
For you, right now nature relates
The mist rises in the morning
Burning into the blue by the heat from the sun
The beautiful morning light
Nature’s day has begun
See a leaf falling
See a buzzard soar
See a tree preparing for winter
Nature loves us all so much, everyone one and all
The moon harnesses light from the burning sun
The tides bow to the moon
The sun breathes life with its light
Something magical lives outside your room
Close your eyes and just listen to the waves if you’re near to the sea
Listen to the night animals calling, it’s a privilege you see.
Listen to the geese fly over hidden in the dark of the sky.
Hear a barn owl call in the dead of the night.
Look for something special in your garden or today just touch a leaf on a tree
Natures out there waiting for you to find the way to feel free.
Nature plays with beauty and power
Don’t try to make sense of it all
You’ve never been impressed with a wave smash or a storm of thunder call?
Play a tune to the whistling winds
See the majesty of the fading night light
In every breath that you take nature lives in your life.
I’d plow four rocky acres, maybe even five,
For a taste of the honey from my Honey’s hive.
No one spices the clover like my lover does
When we meet in the meadow and we buzz, buzz, buzz.
She’s a blue ribbon winner at the county show;
Sings a nice little number, ends in E-I-O.
She can flirt with the judges and they think it’s cute;
When she winks like a barn owl, they shout hoot, hoot, hoot.
Buzz, buzz, buzz, hoot, hoot, hoot.
Dance ‘round the hen house in a chicken suit.
Learn how to juggle, break an egg or two,
Then we’ll make rooster jealous when we doodle-do.
See the ducks swim in circles on the lily pond
And that one lonesome froggie in the mist beyond.
We can drop our pretensions (standing back-to-back),
Then we’ll slip in the water going quack, quack, quack.
I’m a ham-fisted farm boy, Sugar. Holy cow!
Got a stool and a bucket and I do know how.
We’ll have sweet cream and peaches once the milkin’s through,
When our lips come together and we moo, moo, moo.
Quack, quack, quack, moo, moo, moo.
Work like the devil with a pitchfork, too.
Warn all the pigeons we’ll be pitchin’ woo
When we meet in the hayloft and we coo, coo, coo.