Long Dragonflies Poems
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Gossamer silk strings were woven into a work of art.
Dandling from a shrub and glittering with dawn impart
As dainty as a mutter, obliterated by an odd downpour.
And the artist must start at the inception of his explore.
They swing for me in the faint light till the evenfall.
Those fireflies move around in the dusk, too small.
My ingenuity is loaded with delightful charm.
As though love and flow beget all spars swarm.
Dragonflies are reckoned precisely to be apivorous.
Others wittily utter satan sustains them to gauge souls.
Dragonflies were typically the handy devil's Horse.
They persist bugs that swill a haul of active mosquitos.
Violent nature's peculiar brightness dwarfs anybody.
It's less remarkable than most people worry!
Frail creatures, plants, and minor bugs all communicate.
It's in their critical minds and unique dialects, supinate.
They befall welds for hearing from a convenient distance.
What individuals express verbally or divine omniscience,
They correctly display a loyal line of powwows with God.
They carefully review God and bow in ways we ignored.
You may warily aid animals birds and rare insects.
Sustain the valid pact with the blameless, lovely spirits.
The trees, plants, and rocks naturally involve our focus.
They are aiding earth discreetly and replacing the bogus.
Why kill a bug? What makes it equivalent to promptly kill?
Bugs, territory, and the imminent threat of danger shrill,
Others maim people by sucking blood or aggravating skin.
To spare their lives from being grabbed! can this be sin?
Written: January 16, 2022
Insects Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Angela Tune
Dragonflies dance atop my black shiny car
thoughts bring a smile to my lips, another time
a dragonfly sat on my shoulder for all
to bear witness to her art of escape and flying
so high did she go, up, up and away, never
looking back to see where she had been
she wasn’t trained for this you see, it’s
natural enough for those who surrender
all fear and their stories about not being
safe is all we really want to experience in
our short lives, seemingly so very long
9” nails on a chalk board isn’t all that
painful since we no longer listen to the
music of the spheres, resonance so very
beautiful there is nothing more nor
anything less than an all consuming
focus on the eternity of time. We have
simply forgotten.
I’ve seen them many times before
just outside my back porch door,
dancing ‘round from high to low
‘round and ‘round and “Doe-See-Doe.”
On glittering, gossamer, ghost like wings
flickering like hummingbirds in the spring,
yet smaller still to stalk their prey
of beasty bugs far less than they.
From water born, transformed larvae
shedding, molting 'til set free,
into the world of earth, sky, winds
where nature abounds for all of them…
Dragonflies and damselflies
all-seeing through their moon sized eyes,
peripherally and all around
for what they seek, from sky to ground.
But never had I had the chance
to watch a hundred of them dance,
together like children come what may
around scented flowers yesterday.
A swarm of these I had never seen
like something from an “Alice in Wonderland” dream,
materialized to entertain
and wash away all anguish, pain.
Dipping, zipping, unremitting, like electrons flow
then hovering ‘round like a magic show,
with others landing on wildflowers and lilac leaves,
until wisping off again into the beauteous breeze.
Dissolving into clear, thin air
as if any thought at all was ever there, leaving me
holding them intriguingly revered
for as quickly as they arrived, they disappeared.
Early one Spring morning, I joyfully walked the verdant hills,
among lemon tinted blooms of coltsfoot, swaying in spills.
Their beauty seemed to drift in a gloriously scented display,
so enticing that honeybees and butterflies visited that day.
Dawn whispered with fruited breath to bid the sun, "Arise,"
and hues of watermelon rind and peach flesh filled the skies.
I gladly welcomed the gentle warmth on my upturned face,
savoring this tranquil scene; a moment I would long embrace.
Tangerine and lavender coral bells had grown quite profuse.
There was one the shade of lime, like the liqueur, chartreuse.
Blanket flowers of crimson were fringed in saffron yellow.
Dragonflies flitted among the buds; a pastoral scene so mellow.
Wild lilac bushes were maturing into a beautiful hedgerow,
then I caught I glimpse of aquamarine water on the lake below.
It was such a serene setting that I lingered for some time
thinking about the pastoral scene I would write about in rhyme.
April 13, 2021
Changing Colors Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Butterflies know the meaning of life upon transformation
They flit, flutter, and dazzle the flowers into their confidence
You have that way about you, listening with your full heart
Knowing I need a sounding board but silence not suggestion
Like luna moth,
You are my listening man
My happily forever after
The one who understands
My need for silence
Dragonflies incorporate the gift of silence into twilight
They appear in spirit form, giving me a gentle boost
You have that way about you, loving me in spite of my frailties
Ignoring the way I sometimes misspeak or mistreat you
Like luna moth,
You are my listening man
My happily forever after
The one who understands
My need for silence
Huffle-winks came from the forest of Jom
The King sent five knights to track them all down
For they had brought terror to the kingdom
He offered his daughter and prince’s crown.
Four of the bold knights by dragons were slain
But one lone brave knight continued the quest
Through woods, rivers and mountainous terrain
Until quest completed he would not rest.
The forest entrance surrounded by mire
Here the huffle-winks would meet their demise
That is where the brave knight built a large fire
Their enemies helped him, the dragonflies.
Huffle-winks are gone, they’ve not been seen since
The knight wed the princess and was crowned prince.
Written on 22 May 2018
For Dragons Huffle-winks, and Dragonflies contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Dragonflies impossibly maneuver,
defying aerodynamics.
Obviously, there is something wrong with our
calculations,
even bumble bees behave like U.F.O’s.
Da Vinci, sketched flying machines
everything is feasible on paper
and we know paper planes can also fly.
A child can imagine a flying peddle bike,
because they can easily ignore
the settled science of gravity.
Peddle power is a real thing.
Children leave room for the impossible,
the way the Wright Brothers did.
Rockets were invented by the unimaginative,
Jules Verne and comic books misled them.
Space travels not about moving through space
as if it were actually a distance.
When we ask what it is - that nothingness
in which objects hang within or fly through,
then we will be close to inventing fire once more.
The sloth and the snail are not moving slow,
the flitting dragonfly, as it sharply veers
and turns in an iota of sky is not moving fast.
They are all equally synchronized,
they just do not consider time as a hurdle
but more of a tunnel.
I can still recall
the taste of that first youthful kiss,
it has not slipped away into a nether place,
it returns when I call to it, that kiss
and many more exclamation marks.
A hummingbirds bewildering feats of aviation,
though explicable, is no less magical,
it should remind us of the origami nature of time,
how it folds to accommodate any space
even a long ago kiss.
It is the longest night.
We tread gently through the wood,
Feather moss and beech leaves
Amber soft under foot
Dampen and muffle the rustle of our winter coats.
There's a snap of the twig
And a flutter of woodpigeons lift,
As if applauding the return of the sun.
We watched them fly
Through the crackled glaze of bare branches -
“As our lanterns burn bright,
Our feet seek safe ground.”
We bow low to the Holly,
King of the winter,
Bejewelled with berries and crowned in thorns,
Hosting a chiming of wrens,
Who herald our journeying
In bursts of sing-song -
“Fa-la-la-la-la!”
Onward through the valley
We step into the footprints of darklings,
Deer, fox and badger.
Cross pilgrim paths where flints glint,
As if iridescent tiny tombstones
For the butterflies and dragonflies of summers long passed.
“Our lanterns shine bright,
Our feet find safe ground,
We walk without fear
In the dark all around.”
At the heart of the wood
We gather near the great oak,
And together we light a fire.
Watch as ribbons of flame
Caught from flashes of sparks,
Illuminate our faces in the cinder glow of midwinter.
Alongside us, pixie-cup lichens wassail a promise of spring
An oath as unbreakable as our human cups of plastic and tin.
With mulled apples, honeyed and spiced
We welcome light in.
Feast upon pastries of fruits in a marzipan of delights.
Feeling blessed with good cheer,
We start the new year.
Driving home in the car,
From the road I see stars of wonder.
I see trees a-glisten with tinsel.
Windows lit golden under twinkling eaves.
I am sure I can hear, and the wind whispers, “listen”
As I opened the door,
An echo once more, held soft in the still of night –
“May your light shine bright,
May your feet walk safe ground,
May you seek without fear,
May you like what you found.
Stay near to each other,
Offer comfort and cheer,
Come back to the woods,
Each solstice, each year.”
Cool wind whispers on the breeze
Shimmering sunshine warms the autumn leaves
Dragonflies dance over a sparkling lake
Slithering silently is a sleepy snake
Beauty surrounds, just open your eyes
Embrace our world, its simply paradise
Blackbirds sing a sweet song
Tunefully twittering all day long
Farmers plough the patchwork fields
The seasons provide; nature yields
Our bountiful earth God reveals
Nature plays its hand
Rain rejuvenates our land
Oceans blue surround us
Flowing freely without fuss
Spring and summer
Autumn and winter
They always appear
Creating our year
Our beautiful
Simply wonderful
World
10~19~14
Contest :I do not know
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 3rd place~
Pensive thoughtful wise dragonfly faerie queen,
Meadow magic, surrounding her majesty,
As she ponders her next move.
The kingdom is needing extra help.
Will she be calling on the Woodland faeries or
the Faeries of the lake? She has not had luck
with either.
Sky faeries, a voice whispers into her mind
Her grandmother faerie's voice.
Sky fairies.
She had not thought of them in years.
More dragonflies came, they surrounded her with love.
The Sky Faerie Queen was walking toward her.
"Your grandmother sent me," she said.
Her face was serene, calm.
She was ready for whatever came,
to help the granddaughter of her oldest and dearest friend.