Long Coast is clear Poems
Long Coast is clear Poems. Below are the most popular long Coast is clear by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coast is clear poems by poem length and keyword.
Have you heard the story,
Of Stink, Stank, and Stunk?
The one of a kind, bonafide,
Three headed Skunk.
Stink was on the left,
Stunk was on the right.
Leaving Stank in the middle,
With no peripheral sight.
They always disagreed,
On who was in the lead.
Each vying for the spot,
Unwilling to concede.
They'd go round and round,
With tail in the air.
Snapping at each other,
And ripping out their hair.
But it never did fail,
After lifting their tail.
Would spray a triple dose,
Oh man, what a smell.
It'd bring you down to size,
Putting tears in your eyes.
The stench was so bad,
It would even kill flies.
If they ever come near,
You'd better disappear.
Just run for your life,
Till the coast is clear.
Gilt-edged first light visions greet
zestful horde in trendy street
Luscious coffee bouncing bean
set alight a dormant scene
Pumpkin seeds dot fresh brown toast
eager staff cool vibrant host
Ghetto blasters rock and blare
raucous voices split the air
Backbeat sold on grey stone curb
manic newsstand with the blurb
Toil worn riser half asleep
speed bump traffic jam’s beep beep
Noisy dockland, wharf or pier
naval fringe cry, coast is clear
Blue horizon sky high quest
humdrum route dull second best
Stock exchange a whirling disc
budding Gordon Gecko risk
Rapid urban belt whose rift
spurs its city’s latent gift
No criminal worth his salt
Or is good at his job
Is behind bar's and in prison
They are rather in hiding
Careful planning what job
to take on next
To fund retirement
Not out spending i'll gotten gain
Just waiting for the right moment
Till the coast is clear
And the reason why they never
get caught
Can blend and live in plain sight
Be absolutely anyone's neighbour
without raising or arousing an
inclination of suspicion
Otherwise everyone put under
witness protection
Would have to be moved on
a regular basis
Because they stick out like
a sore thumb trying to fit in
The chickens had scattered ever so quickly
Squawking and clucking, fearful and swiftly.
Feathers were flying as their panic set in
A fox near their pen tries to break-in.
His dinner is noisy, his dinner is fast
The chickens are frantic feeling aghast
But the fox is sly as well as cunning
He won't waste energy with too much running.
So he rests and waits until it is dark
Watching and ready about to embark.
The coast is clear or so it does seem
And silently sets out on his hunting regime.
He digs and slips under the wire
Wanting a dinner, his focus and desire.
Scents of his dinner arouses his hunger
Dinner taste better when the meat is younger.
Chickens in sight, which one to pick?
The fatter, the thinner or a little young chick?
Suddenly there's a light and the alarm bells ring
The chickens go mad, panics again in full swing.
The lights are bright the dogs bark is loud
The owner shouts out, the fox momentarily cowed
Dazzled and still for a moment or two
He needs to get out the quickest way through.
Quickly he scarpers, his head in a spin
He's hungry and may get a little more thin
Tomorrow he will search for another way in
For now he's managed to save his own skin.
Contest Name Writing Challenge 'Q' Words
Sponsor Constance La France
31.03.23