Long Bestrew Poems

Long Bestrew Poems. Below are the most popular long Bestrew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bestrew poems by poem length and keyword.


Smell of Fresh Mown Grass

Brainstorming, concentrating
panning... for poem
idea shattered brew
tilly by deafening seasonal
greensward cutting crew
contracted throughout summer to mow

leaves of grass
every Tuesday, which drew
attention toward fragrant aroma
seeping into nostrils
of me - match hew,
heavily negated true

quiescence courtesy ear splitting
soundcloud of driving
mowers even moo
ving bovines would
clap cloven hooves
over soft as lambs wool

sensitive hearing micro corkscrew
innards, viz their spade
shaped audiological
anatomical accouterments -
cow word lee lowing Jew
pitter Io sliver by jove whew

once silence returns
(after cessation rip snorting bedlam)
savoring the hum of nature anew,
and moost likely relish
fresh cut leaves of grass
as I inhale analogous

delectable waft of homebrew
albeit molecules borne aloft
after sharp heavy duty blades
of industrial riding mowers bestrew
higglety pigglety, helter skelter
juicy fruit chlorophyll rich

plants releasing nectar
sweet as honeydew
olfactory imbibing nostalgic view
of yesterday, when agrarian farmsteads
populated landscape picturesquely
anointing, exuding, messaging...

perfuming faint clue
intimating rural lifestyle forebears
hapt tubby privy too,
where deer and antelope played
unaccosted by impending urbanization,
hence such idyllic serene rue
man nation - visage you

would probably concur
as most divine comity
worth more than any buckeroo
could purchase - vestiges vanishing
without a trace adieu
mother nature nowhere found
except caged up within zoo.


When Life Seems Grey

When true love’s gone and doom hangs over head

When life runs like a river to the sea

Then shall I take new lovers to my bed?

And with their carnal touch consoled be?

When my love lies,so breaks my tender heart.

When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path.

Then, shall I my life of evil start?

And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?

When true love lies and wrecks all loyalty.

When puzzlement makes all my world seem mad.

Then I shall upend causality

And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

For I have love’s sweet child inside my soul

And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole
Form: Sonnet

Smell of Fresh Mown Grass Last Day of August 2021

Ah... already the summer 
approaches closing time,
but yours truly can squeeze 
one more rhyme 
before September first,
thus the following lines after...

Brainstorming, concentrating
panning... for poem
idea shattered brew
tilly by deafening seasonal
greensward cutting crew
contracted throughout summer to mow
leaves of grass
every Tuesday, which drew
attention toward fragrant aroma
seeping into nostrils
of me - match hew,
heavily negated true

quiescence courtesy ear splitting
soundcloud of driving
mowers even moo
ving bovines would
clap cloven hooves
over soft as lambs wool

sensitive hearing micro corkscrew
innards, viz their spade
shaped audiological
anatomical accouterments -
cow word lee lowing Jew
pitter Io sliver by jove whew
once silence returns
(after cessation rip snorting bedlam)
savoring the hum of nature anew,
and moost likely relish
fresh cut leaves of grass
as I inhale analogous

delectable waft of homebrew
albeit molecules borne aloft
after sharp heavy duty blades
of industrial riding mowers bestrew
higglety pigglety, helter skelter
juicy fruit chlorophyll rich
plants releasing nectar
sweet as honeydew
olfactory imbibing nostalgic view
of yesterday, when agrarian farmsteads
populated landscape picturesquely
anointing, exuding, messaging...

perfuming faint clue
intimating rural lifestyle forebears
hapt tubby privy too,
where deer and antelope played
unaccosted by impending urbanization,
hence such idyllic serene rue
man nation - visage you

would probably concur
as most divine comity
worth more than any buckeroo
could purchase - vestiges vanishing
without a trace adieu
mother nature nowhere found
except caged up within human zoo.
Form: Rhyme

The Guilded Leaves of Autumn Sigh

When winds of change draw winter nigh,
    The guilded leaves of Autumn sigh.
    With memories of summer days,
    And springtime blossoms sweet bouquets.

    This golden age each year bestows,
    An earthly majesty that glows.
    When shadows of the evening fade,
    And moonlight bathes a forest glade.

    With one last dance, leaves celebrate,
    Then silently they lie in state.
    Beneath the boughs, which did display,
    Their changing colours day by day.

    The rising sun now paints the scene,
    Red, yellow, silver, gold and green.
    Where myriad leaves bestrew the floor, 
    Enriching nature evermore.

    9/ 6/ 2018.
Form: Couplet

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