Long Coniferous Poems

Earth dwelling mongeese are neither toys nor coins and pedalling backwards then forward is not considered the primary way of jet propulsion off a very high hill. So one two ping means fried rice coming?...

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It was just another Saturday night,
wasn't with nobody
My pockets were full
and my heart was on call
I was dressed to the nines,
and my hair was laid just fine
when I stepped into the 
Coats-For-Kids charity ball
I made...

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Jack Horner was an impish little boy, who lived on Cherry Orchard farm;
That produced varieties of fruit. For a mellowing sun, kept groves warm.

The Horners had always been a serious set-no nonsense, like spring rain;
And...

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In a vehicle, once more this month. Though not going as far as the palm trees, my stomach’s lurching left and right. The baby’s alright! He coos from time to time as we weave through...

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A mystical mayhem is a deity left undisturbed. Yet in corrosive eras even a sharp shrapnel can shatter even the most strongest of iron souls. Interesting is it? The formations. The planned plane. The corrosive...

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When taking a stroll on a path filled with weeds the force fields are often not symmetrical nor are they aligned. But the shining synchronization of a sky lit sun cap can capsulize even the...

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A gentle knight chirped and roaming the way of desert at night.
 His dancy browny hair, blue eyes made romantic guy and couraged.
 He lured by lovely song beyond a hill.
 Eagerly, he rushed his...

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As I walk around the cottage nestled at the river’s edge, I am greeted by the splendor of nature. The river gushes through the rocky bed as its roar echoes through the valley.  I...

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unsuccessful humanness

The forest he traveled had many narrow paths, there was always something new to see, like the white tree that
once wanted to be the biggest to dominate the forest
but hubris had gotten it, and...

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Carnage creators. Crackerbreads chats. And a wide angled grinning photographer who is having appalling dreams of incorrect information is now ironed flat. Just like a pizza base. But no bassist can ever locate a pretty...

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It’s Christmas every day at the Goodwill donation door
Where there’s so much Christmas to be given to the poor!  
Where the wreaths and trees pile up in a monument to excess
Next to trophies, fine...

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This poem is inspired by Jeff Ripple's painting titled 'Stormy Weather'. You can find the link to the painting at the bottom of the page, and there is also an image of the painting uploaded...

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Failed humans

The forest he traveled had many paths 
there was always something new to see
like a white tree that once wanted to be
the tallest one in the forest, but hubris 
had made it to lose barks and...

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Thankyou

The obnoxiously indifference of a turtle hair do in a queue is reprehensible really. It never fails to amaze how many swans can actually fit onto a conveyor belt and glide. Motionless static should never...

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The cascading contours of the high Himalayan slopes
cradle the upright verdant cones of coniferous pine
draped in gold reflected from the sheaths of snow,
morphed to crystal mirror on the dawn’s yellow sun,
painted in cinnabar by dusk’s...

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The contours cascading from the higher Himalayan slope
hold me, the upstanding cone of jade, a coniferous pine,
gilded in gold soaked from the swathe of glistened snow,
turning to mirror of flakes, flushed by dawn’s yellow sun.

A...

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I was once told a story, of the wee folk of Bensham Bog; they live in carved mushroom houses that are shaped like bullfrogs and they ensure the survival of creatures there. They travel in...

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There’s an aged Eastern cedar tree
not far from the steps of my back door.
Enormous and quite old it harbors
a full range of flora and fauna
that have sought refuge amid its arms. 

I reckon it soars...

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Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay -
       from the poem 'Under the canopy of pine trees by Eve Roper

UNDER THE CANOPY

Under the canopy of the pine...

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Written: December 28, 2023
                ______________________________________

flounder in fictional field
—squeals and squeaks
Whimpers and growls
Sylphic swaying,
of flames spewing,
inwardly throbbing 
of my nostril
lobotomized cosmic orbs.
scent...

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The cascading contours of the verdant mountain slope
hold me, an upstanding cone of jade coniferous pine,
gilded in gold soaked from the swathe of snow,
turned to mirror flakes by the sun of dawn.

Cinnabar glaze I get...

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Pinprick ideology is a shatter of soul. Pins play placing polio poorly. And poodles arrive in vast kaleidoscopic numerals to bring numerous numbers to many studious tables. Tablets take hold of fortresses and a midway...

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Circumferences. Blame not a nothing. Understand an ideology of a pickled pair. Falling twigs are pallor. Lips altering. It means a snake talks. Ceaseless chatter of a convertible fish bowl with or without leaves. Directional...

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Canadian Autumn

Forests of old and new growth in constant turmoil
Are held upright by root systems filtering the soil.
Trees and saplings stretch upward in the wilderness
To absorb the sun’s rays for photosynthesis.

Stands of coniferous and deciduous...

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December comes in lustily
On whirling winds of joy,
Bringing from corners of the world,
Dreams of the ultimate toy.
For each of us is a child at heart
During this magical phase,
We each believe in Santa Claus
These anticipatory days.

The...

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