Long Bobbin Poems

I re: egret forsaking gull friend where, heron eye twitter

Fictional account related
courtesy one pink flamingo.

Aves lusting for verboten tweet 
reed lubricious sin after giving
Twiggy another peck on the cheek.

Whenever this birdman 
alone with his thoughts...

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Winds of change 
are fanning the flames 
are fanned by the deranged. 
The flames of misdirection, 
the winds giving chase 
(orchestrated by instruments to enrage. 
Horned cheering section.) 
Drones of the BlackRock, riders in holdings...

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Employed by Boeing before I retired
An engineer, then into management
I had good writing skills, as were required
When I wrote, you could tell what was meant

Poetry wasn’t of interest to me
For the first seventy five years...

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If you ever espy a latitudinally
and longitudinally challenged
older yet shopping savvy woman,
(wedded to yours truly
for almost twenty six years),
who stands approximately
four feet and ten inches
a strong hunch that gal
stacks up as mine missus,
she dons costumed...

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The air is heavy like a dirty woolen blanket
each colorful strand pulled through the warp.
Horns blare and traffic skids and screeches
as unborn accidents are aborted 
by fancy-pants cops.

The city slickers in their posh clothes
zip along...

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Today, I was determined to fly a kite;
There was plenty of wind with no clouds in sight.
Strenuously I checked the strength of the twine;	 
I didn’t want any troubles fouling up my line.
The knots that...

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It's rare that most would call me a hot head
I am usually the coolest cucumber instead
I have no tells, so their heads don't swell
and I don't get entangled to soon

But there is this tall lanky...

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There’s only a dew of elixir in the bottom of the empty cup sleeping as lamb
Now they call it heart, I call it polluted spirit, and you may call it ruby pomegranate granules
But we the...

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What more delicate than the singing of the birds as they flutter and stumble,
Sweet as apple crumble
The wren and the robin, heads a bobbin, squabbling over fallen sunflower seed
Each his need
The bigger they are, the...

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The most beautiful
thing, sing the
birds
Gorgeous as the
sound. around the
crashing of waves
That morning tweet,
sweet as apple
crumble
The wren , the
robin, bobbin his
head, on a quest for
worm juicy

The squirrel racing
the fence, hence
some other beat him
to the nuts
Two at...

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HAIKU & TWO SENRYU
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


white sky... low the clouds
winter... stuck in a drift again
spring... where are you...
~~~
the bobbin dipper flies
below our secret rivers
spring... summer delight
~~~
ring ouzel... moorland
high craggy tors... upland moors
birding adventure
~~~
the avocet
fenland treasure... coastal dream
no...

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It's early, as I enjoy my coffee this morning
Birds are chirping, as I hear a blue jays warning 
I look outside and see a young red breasted robin
He's Jumping and dancing, his head’s busy bobbin

Goldfinches...

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In a scary nightmare, I woke in a mystical place
where my old Singer floated next to your face
You wore that smirk that always made me twitch
so I used that old machine, and I began to...

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THE LAST SPARROW. . . 

Come dusk and the last sparrows have finished their last session on the hedge
Then disappear as the dust turns into early night darkness into their cosy beds

There always remains one...

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A tear in his heart, zigzagging on his own two feet, he combed through his emotions, back and forth, up and down, he was apprehensive but hopeful. A silver lining, A thread to keep him...

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you …

sweetly spun me
like sugar into cotton candy -
from a dizzy bobbin
to ornament for a spring willow …
no lament avowed,
for there is a demon in your eyes
whose night blade feeds …
he stalks me -
spurious spear...

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The robins came again today
 fluttering in the holly branches at play,
each berry juicy and red
 taken gladly where colors once bled.

Clusters hung in the fore ground
 crimson scarlet rubies downed.
A dozen red chested heads...

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Making a Quilt
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2016

I’m going to make a quilt today
if nothing else gets in my way
he’ll want a cup of tea I know
as soon as I sit down to sew.

I tell...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Its turn-of-the-century frame clad in rust

Sitting in the old attic’s dim lighting
It revived memories uninviting

Her dauntless spirit still seemed to be there
Helen, hard at work in her wicker chair

The bobbin...

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I have pieces of sewing machines all over my house.
Most of the pieces are there, but not all of them,
Of course I do not discover this until I want to use them.
One is missing the...

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Release Him (memory of Uchy)

BORO's 6 foot angel  son  father  brother  friend  cuzzzz
sweet devil
lay to rest  
red white blue 
you know  boricua style
at it's best
corners  blocks ...

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My great uncle and aunt had a fine love.
Uncle Clyde and Aunt Lucille were their names.
Over a decades times five was shared glue.
Two very different flows they overcame.

She was as soft as a ball of...

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Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust 
Time to fix, needles gone, must have bust 
Last to use, mama's hand 
Peddles low, set on stand
 
Thread on bobbin, red, white and blue 
Dried up tube of...

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Bradford pear colored with burgundy
Standing in my neighbor's yard
You're full fluffy hair offers a dandy
Hideaway, for all the birds in this bard

I know that I saw a Robin
Nibbling on one of you're pears
He was a...

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There once was a little teapot, short and stout.
It had tiny dancers that rubbed its spout.
Its handle got neglected and fell to the floor.
Now the little teapot is no more.

There was a dynamic duo, Bobbin...

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