Long Bracken Poems
Long Bracken Poems. Below are the most popular long Bracken by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bracken poems by poem length and keyword.
Lucifer: "If I am unable, to have a ritual with you before I shuffle off this mortal coil, I will make your communion with the oblivion as unseemly as possible, when I arrive."
Aurora: "should we deign, at least the moon sooths brightly, rapidly fading the horizon meanwhile grows voracious, veraciously blotting out these of kindred spirits shouldn't relent."
DR dragon: " the plaintive field is course and bracken ties me to the pumpkin sun and every fourth night each meld and create the harvest moon in which I blithely contrive."
PW 1: *silently crosses the foundry and springs into the well of sorrows*
---End of act IV---
Vashon Memories
A song to sing itself –
A birthing voice,
Shouting then whispering
Of fields and quiet harbors
Of blackberries and sunlight on smooth waters,
Of boredom, rest and restlessness
In tidal pools
Hunting hermit crabs and limpets,
Sticking on all fingers,
Avoiding jelly fish and barnacles
When pigtails and freckles
Fly through misty bracken fern,
Evergreen Madrone leaves,
Hemlock and the Douglas fir
Shading meadows
Of green apple trees,
Fat blackberries -
Huckleberries red and blue
Eluding nettles reaching out
To leave their sting
Then rest beside
Old logs
Wrapped in pitch
Stacked up by mischievous waves
To dot the shoreline
With drifting wood
Of mysterious shapes
On pebbled sands
Warmed in the welcomed sunlight
And drink in afternoon tea
Steeped in curiosity.
My grandparents had a summer home on Vashon Island. We would spend several weeks on the island during the summer.
I wanted to age graciously,
Serene, ladylike and wise,
But I get confused and muddled
And I've come to realise
Things happen to me,
That takes me by surprise
Everything unravels before
My fading eyes.
I cannot enter a room,
Without tripping at the door
With a feeling of doom
I lay spread eagle on the floor.
Everyone stops talking
And stares at me
I wish they would stop gawking
At the blood oozing from my knee.
Then someone stirred
And tried to drag me to my feet
I did not utter a word
As I scrambled toward a seat.
Serenity and calm
Vanished into thin air
As for wisdom and charm
It was lost, beyond repair.
Someone applied some cream
And placed a bandage on my knee
I felt like it was all a dream
How unladylike can a person be,
With shaking hands, I tried
To drink the welcome cup of tea
Then I dropped the cup
It spilled all over a Bonsai tree
I was not at home,
I was at my best friend's house
I went alone
There were several more visitors
Including my friend's spouse
My friend was devoted
To her Bonsai trees
She stunted their growth
To a size that pleased.
She entered them in contests
And very often won,
I had ruined her chances
With the damage, I had done.
I was feeling depleted
Hot and sweaty too
I was utterly defeated
And wish I could start anew
I know this won't happen
I've tried many times before
Because I fell into some bracken
As I waved goodbye at their front door.
Blackie mounts my broomstick every Halloween
With her silky coat and eyes of emerald green
We’re silhouetted in the moonbeam's gleam
Kitty meows so loudly if ever we are seen
Children point at us and let out a scream
Look at that black cat and the warty old witch
Blackie’s hackles rise, her meow rises in pitch -
I wish my black kitty had got a volume switch
We rise then fall as my broomstick gets a glitch
Suddenly we're both propelled into a watery ditch
Poor kitty's fur’s wet, bracken covers her left eye
We clamber from the water, and I let out a sigh
She meows like a banshee, I know the reason why...
as she's lost our big container of sweet pumpkin pie -
It’s her Halloween treat; I can’t bear hearing her cry!
Her meowing gets so loud soon it reaches a decibel
So I get out my wonky wand and repeat a magic spell
My broom flies out the ditch, the pumpkin pie as well
We both climb onto the broom and fly off to a motel -
I’m glad we got the pie back, or she'd make my life hell!
Halloween Meow Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 24TH OCTOBER 2020
10/23/20
twitching noses
in tussocks
of awakened primroses
rummaging on hazel boles
hibernating mammals
poke from the holes
leafless hedgerows
where buds now form
a carpet of white corm
Badgers forage
for food near their sett
renewing
their bracken scented couchette
Sparrow and robin
pair off in twos
as lengthening days
come into view.
aconite open in rays of sun
below yellow catkins
with tails fine spun.
Osier shoots
in green corn camomile
as Spring mornings
begin to smile.
"Westward, further out ..."
Dusk washes over you
warm like honey
saltry and sweet
immersed in amber tones of
apricot alerts and rose
swirling unfurling peonies
the blooming silent dancing clouds
rush over white horses
crashing against
bracken green emeralds
the depths open
and unfathomable,
who can read the eyes of
an unexplored ocean,
the shallows
slide under your feet,
you turn your face up to the Sun and smile,
you feel like you’re bathing in Manuka,
it’s moorish and incurably medicinal,
the salt spray chasing northwards
up along bare legs mid thigh
on another shore
the uncertain sure calls,
the stories are a legion
in multitude of treasures
like beached shells whispering
to ears that are not listening;
you think of wading out further
where the turning back is harder,
the song calls you evocatively
further westward like a drug
you’d gladly holster star shot
drinking life in like a last shot
like a burning addiction,
your world is sliding strong
tide-drifted under your feet,
flesh and bone trying to bed
the undertow and its
neverending mystery
dragging you further out
westward
incomplete
complete
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
High up near the top of the mountain he stood
surveying all he could see for miles and miles
He watched the hawks wheeling round and round
then folding their wings they plummeted down
striking their prey in full flight taking them to eat
behind him was a cave where he lived and slept
very comfortably on a bed of bracken and hay
his chair was a lump of stone that naturally
was shaped and the seat was cut into it.
He had lived here a long time making it
just right and with a handy spring
all the water he could wish for.
He cooked on an open fire at the front
so all smells and smoke were blown away
there was even a hole narrow and deep
that took care of all his bodily needs.
Still most days he stood looking out
over the land which was his land.
He watched over all. the various animals
the different birds he could hear a wood pecker
busily drilling away making a new nest
and signed with pleasure at the simple things
which made this place so special to him.
He had been married a few times and had
many children not all in wedlock he'd been
a bit of a lad ln his time enjoying it all.
Now as he approached his end he had little
regret it was a life well spend and he would
do it the same taking each day as it came
For those that could remember his name
it was FREEDOM
Winter sunlight on the fields
A murder calls in flight through misty yields
Banks of bracken smothered in shadow falls
Thunder through the valley calls
Stiffening muscles ache in winter chills
Footsteps path over wandering hills
Dark, crashing clouds seal the wild landscape view
The cold is here, it's come for you!
Hilltops darken as daylight fades
Mist settles in the valley as darkness cascades
The change of day into the night
Bleak feelings loom dreading deeper under fading light
A voice, a light in front, higher in the nothing view
Horizontal rain now blurring my weakened sight
The pull from sound and flicker of light
The roars of winds consume the night
I follow the light and muffled calls
I see the village lights flickering in the distant homes
I reach the gates of the village road
The cold, the rain, the dark as taken hold
I find the Inn of the Miners Arms
I find comfort in a pint close to flaming warmth
A local man asks me if I got caught in t' wild on t' hill after dark?
I nod to him and tell him of the flickering calls
He takes off his cap, leans in and I see pale fear in his eyes
I ask what's wrong and to my surprise
He whispers to me of what I saw:
One hundred years ago tonight
A miner died on t' hill in t' darkest night
Coming home from t' pit in a sudden and viscous storm
For him there was no one on t' hill who'd ever call
I walked past leaving the noisy streets behind
Entered a less travelled path leading to the woods
Where the scene gleamed with refreshing verdure
Here Nature lay in calm repose, deaf to all hustle n’ scuffle
Welcomed by the scent of flowers and foliage,
I stood in this engulfing ocean of silence.
The place calmed my mind and lulled my nerves.
As I proceeded, watching each blade of grass n’ flower
I sighted a pathway between thickets
Like the midline parting of a woman’s hair
Seeing it strewn with stones and thorny brambles
I was resentful to take that route, but something
Caught my sight....! Amid the bracken
There was a bramble full of ripe blackberries
It was an unexpected bounty, the wilderness offered me
How beautifully the ripe berries clung to one another
Those onyx beads, those cobalt shiny spheres!
How temptingly they looked in their glossy sheen
Braving their prickles that scraped my wrists
I reached out my hands to pluck them
I wondered-was it wicked of me to have picked them?
When I tasted them, I couldn’t withstand the temptation
To pluck more and more, so sweet and succulent
With no dust or dirt and not needing to be washed or wiped
As the tangle of thorns caressed my hands and skin
With bleeding arms and purple juice in the corners of my lips
I plucked and ate them as much as I could
With no can or container to collect them,
I left the rest for birds and bunnies to relish
While leaving, I felt the curved prickles hooking into my clothes
As if inviting to munch them till my tongue turned into indigo hue.
August.1.2022
Thoughts on Blackberries Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Matt Caliri
Spellbinding place where rainbow water flows
Frogspawn and tadpoles such enormous change
Arcadian forest where pixie dust blows
All creatures are welcome no one estranged.
Twilight is magical what will happen?
Atmosphere filled with dire baritone croak
Whispering rustle, low-lying bracken
Fae folk appear under red velvet cloak.
Fireflies lighting wonderful oasis
Elderly toad croaks musical score
Pompous owl tries to intimidate
Proud of position he is the law.
Beetles scurrying they are so anxious
Happy invitation it's party time
Cantankerous bees prickly as cactus
Covered in honey they buzz "all mine".
Terrapin plays music on his bassoon
Boisterous sound that creatures adore
Leprechaun baked magical mushroom
Mesmeric food eaten they all chant more!
Pixabay image by Sandra_Schoen