Long Bush Poems
Long Bush Poems. Below are the most popular long Bush by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bush poems by poem length and keyword.
God’s plan is one we are learning about every day, like the weather it is always amazing.
We see God move all around, like the wind, sometimes strong than calm.
God is so magical, like the story of him talking from the burning bush, telling Moses of his presence.
God is a force, we all can feel, like a feeling of hunger that we cannot see but we feel it strongly.
God told us of his love for us, that we should pray and follow all his plans to bring us home to true life.
As we walk this path in this life, we see and learn so much, making all of our moments in life feel so great.
God told us to multiply and love and care for the earth, that we should follow all of the commandments.
God warned us of our failure and the price we would pay, the death of our afterlife and the cost of our soul if we disobey.
God told us of an unseen force, that is around us making us struggle to make it home to heaven and true life.
We look for true life and love and bliss, making all of our time endless, we pray to God for strength for our journey through life.
True life is our goal, to make God happy with all of our work and choices in this life.
For God told us, death of our body is not the end, but the death of our soul can make us have no life in the kingdom of heaven.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always on my mind and in my heart.
To 'ride on somebody's coat tails'
Is the most dangerous thing you can do
'Keep a stiff upper lip' is another cliché
Mine's not stiff, how about you?
'One good turn deserves another'
Turns my stomach if you must ask
'There's no fool like an old fool'
I'm quite offended by the last
'Sticks and stones will break my bones'
Can break someone's heart as well
So if somebody up and says this to you
Tell them to go straight to hell
'A penny for your thoughts' is yet another
That's pretty damn cheap I'd say
A dollar would certainly be more in line
With the times we live in today
'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush'
Who made up this silly old verse
A bird in the hand is quite messy I'd say
Poop on your fingers or worse
So I've come to the obvious conclusion
Concerning the debunking of clichés
Refuse to use 'em coz people abuse 'em
You'll wind up much happier I say
© Jack Ellison 2013
The wind comes; to me and you.' The sun soaks us, also rain and dew, flowers rise to
Us from the earth, if you make a new place
Or not or build upon? An
inheritments worth, vegatables, climb or to us grow.' Also weeds, so sometimes we hoe.' All in all God gifted us well, with fish in the folds of the waters that swell.' Much to be glad for, and think upon, creation our inheritance, a support thats strong.' We need not chase and always push.' Just care and await the fruitfull bush, mulberrys
Redcurrants, blueberries too pineapple bannanas climb up good and true.' A blight
Upon us just a few..Who would make by patent much mockery..I sue.' Dear God of
Abundance strike them down.' Bring judgment and split open their wicked crowns.'
Fairy Realm
Go now, my child, to the fairy realm.
Look, my child, through the Seeing Stone.
Touch, my child, the berries and the grass.
Stick to the path, my child, you'll find the way.
But only travel this way by day.
Look round, my child, it's all peace here.
A bunny, a nightshade- there runs a deer.
Look round, my child, here is your world.
Feel nature, my child,
feel grass in your toes,
feel sun in your heart,
hear lute in the wind.
The flowers bloom freely here, my child,
And the sky is always clear.
Don't break the Seeing Stone, my child, you'll let
the Demons in.
Don't tredd to close to the marshes, child,
webbed feet will pull you in.
Don't eat ripe berries from the bush,
Don't wander in to the purple mist.
Don't follow the Piper through the bluebells, child,
His riddles tease of Death.
Don't stray too far from the path, now, dear.
Don't come when the leaves turn grey.
For they mess around our world and theirs
And take the boundary away.
The piper's lute lures to sleep,
the trolls lurk just below.
This stump is magical, you see-
it hides a fairy home.
O're the hill, just through the trees
the sunlight flicks below.
The darkness spreads through their land now.
We really must head home.
Jesus, unchanged through ages long and wide,
He breathed creation’s dawn with sovereign grace,
To Abraham He came, as a friend and guide,
And promised Isaac’s birth in time and place.
El Roi, the God who sees, found Hagar there,
In desert’s ache, He met her tearful plea.
With Jacob, wrestling through the midnight air,
He blessed and named him Israel, bold and free.
In flames, He spoke to Moses from the bush,
To Joshua, as Commander of the Lord’s army, robed in might.
He walked the furnace - fiery, fierce, seven times hot
A fourth man glowing in the blaze of night.
He heals, restores, and breaks death’s cruel tether -
The same yesterday, today, and forever.
Heaven wakes with the sky and open my eyes; I could see everything around me and the trail, moving in front of me. I didn’t know which foot to put forward first, but I trust my heart to let it take me.
I follow the trail where it leads and my heart keep reminiscing with the breeze, I knew that I was going somewhere and there was no need to fear and so I examine the footsteps on the trail and measure the size of the shoes until my heart tells me what to do. It’s me and the footsteps on the trail but I know that someone was waiting for me when I get there, but it was me alone on the trail trying to get there.
I wasn’t running a mile relay and I had no baton to exchange at the end of the trail, but I felt like someone was waiting for me there. The trail was long and winding, but I kept on its path, hoping that someday the world will evolve out of the dark.
Perhaps the earth is not totally dry something is hidden beneath the sky. Weeds are springing up everywhere and there is no time to spare; I pluck them from the ground and the next day I see them springing up around, and water began to flood the town.
The wind is blowing around me, casting off the negative energy before me; hell is stirring a pot in the kitchen, and I can hear the singing from a distance and jubilation in the African jungle, the music was loud and the people start to shout, it had everyone moving on their feet and we knew that the game was over.
Take me to Casablanca to see the African bush doctor for I have an urgent matter. The trail is long but I want to join the crowd to sing the celebratory song. I want to float in the Atlantic Ocean and parade in big boats so open the canal and let the wind blow.
The trail is long so meet with me half-way and we will compose the final song. We will test it with the piano and violin and we will allow the birds to sing and then the symphony will begin. Meet me on the trail.
Alice falls in blue hole dizziness,
bedraggled in white-smocked dress,
bloomers, too-high
knee socks, medusa-spread
of dirty-blond hair. Her nastiness hovers around
the royal-red throne with its pink-flamingo-
legs distress, playing cards
floating in 52-card pickup,
white rose with a heart — indicative of not love,
but trouble to come. wide-eyed Alice,
her tea-water splash — wings
of a Summer-hot butterfly.
Hatter, his static-hair sticks
out of his evergreen hat —
upside-down leprechaun.
time, too, hangs like bats
...a child, a girl child, inclined
to be trouble. This Alice ruffles
Queen’s undergarments.
Teeny-tiny rabbit,
barely a tic-toc,
scurries under the floating bush.
time plays tricks.
thrice-appears —
third time, he’s very late, indeed.
The Cheshire’s visibles, gleaming white,
polished as if smiling Sunday shoes,
can’t-help-himself grinning
around that impetuous girl,
who was swallowed whole
by Wonderland.
Alice’s world will turn upside-
down, with the hookah lounge’s
increased smoke. Quite high—
creepy caterpillar caterwauls
at the idea of a human
wriggling around its world.
Blue hole dizziness, this world of dreams,
an escape from reality, a nightmare it seems.
There will be giant and teeny-tiny doors, and
potions to explore. She’s much too young.
This is out of character for a young lady. Out
of sight and mind...mindless fun and mayhem,
a child plays her luck. Alice has lost her way.
She grows down...down...down.
Her head above the clouds, likely to lose it.
5/28/2021
Contest: Blue Hole
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
*Loosely based on characters from Lewis Carrol’s
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
I was brought up on a smallholding when I was a lass
We needed something to help us cut the vast expanse of grass
I wanted a goat and my parents they agreed
We saw one advertised and rushed there at great speed
Poor ‘Susie’ lived in a paved back yard
Finding her food to eat must have been hard
We paid them some money and then the fun began
Travelling home in dads Volkswagen van*
I sat on the back seat with ‘Susie’ next to me
It looked pretty silly – I’m sure you will agree
Back home she bounded out of the car
She trimmed the nearest rose bush – she really was a star
She headed for the washing line and tried to eat dad’s pants
It was pretty hilarious – I can still hear poor dad’s rants
She was ‘with kid’ and got settled in her comfy shed
Her favourite food was bananas she’d eat them all when fed
Finally the great day of the kid’s birth did arrive
I called them ‘Billy and Nanny’ I was filled with great pride
The kids were so cute and we would take them out for walks
If people saw us out in the street their eyes would be on stalks
The kids they grew so quickly and nanny she got sold
Billy stayed a few more weeks but he was never to get old
Billy became a problem and was sold off in a hurry
I was devastated to find poor Billy was made into curry
This really did happen as written - I had Susie for my 13th birthday present
The ONLY amendment is it was a VW Beetle not a van *
Jan Allison
10th April 2014
There was a lame duck
Injured looking for a quick buck
And feeling struck
Thankful for the merciful luck
After being stalked and plucked
Taking a swim on the river
Avoiding a hunter looking for dinner
Good fortune appeared on the shore
In the way of a young boy image that stated ‘opportunity score’
With the hunter nowhere in sight
This lame duck was confident without fright
As the boy stood in the brush
Seeing the fowl now in a rush
Fluttering over to the boy
Hoping he will be his living toy
When the boy saw the disabled feather
An idea came ‘make the lame duck better’
“Quack Quack,” he started the health care debate
Calling his new friend a mate
Using his tender loving care
He worked to repair the tear
When all of a sudden inside the bush
The hunter made a sound when the plant felt a push
Hearing the rumbles
Instinctively the lame duck escaped bumping the boy as he tumbled
A shot was fired that was a miss
Once again the hunter was not going to get his dish
“Son,” he said.
Realizing the lame duck was not dead
“He was a slippery one,”
When the boy responded, “Are you having fun?”
Later that evening the hunter joined his son
Waiting for the restaurant plate to arrive featuring roast duck, well done
“You see my son,” the hunter quivered
Hoping his son had a good time and wasn't bitter
“Many lame ducks are out there, who are running scare,”
“So this is fair,” the hunter ended seeing the roasted duck daily special fare
“You are right, the boy started to pick up a fork ready for dinner work
“He had it coming,” the boy continued to reply, “the lame duck was getting ready to lie and die resulting in a send off to be fried.”
“We are well fed,” the hunter said
“Not in debt,” the youngest boy finished off
The roasted lame duck they both bought
If i could talk with Kelly.? What would the convo be.? About; the times he ranged the
Bush, shot his own game; and tuckered free.'
He was only young, a hero now.' Who handed back
Mortgage papers, he'd liberated WOW.' good
Action Ned, you did not just sling lead! And
There ' were also some lowlifes who wanted
You dead' I reckon what Ned would answer me.' Is i did, what I could with what I had the
Rest is history..Had a few more stood? We
Would have shattered the chains.' That held
Us under, I reckon thats pretty plain.' Do you like
A drop of whiskey..I'd have to offer him you see.? to
This free strong Aussie spirit, I'd say that he'd agree'
We both could take a shot.' And i would embrace the man, who rode really With his
Familiy, rode against an (evil gang) made up of
Some blackgaurds.. they called themselves
Victoria constabulary, they would oppress, and shoot
And hang; way;way too many.' Not the type who worked
For real peace, they hired cannibal black trackers, that said upon Ned should feast.' No wonder he was bushranging .' Much better than being eaten, after death.? Yet as we
Know he shot it out..Against a great mob of these scummy
Cops.' Ned you did your best, mate stay at rest
I raise a glass today.' I toast the memory of
Ned Kelly.' One more true hero, of a whole and hard country.!