Long Ewe Poems
Long Ewe Poems. Below are the most popular long Ewe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ewe poems by poem length and keyword.
Nearly lost my at work because….
…yes someone has died and I think you might be
next
Turn that frown
…only if gravity changes
Are you okay
…well I was until you came closer
Can I phone anyone for you
….the hospital tell them your blood type
I again not a psychopath
but their is definitely traces
If you need a shoulder to cry on
always pick the one with a hunch
Would you like to talk
not really haven’t stopped for most of my life
The person who bought the thing
that the thought they liked
doesn’t
Sony gave away their stock vr units with the new ps5
Sorry that’s an advert in my poem
then I want a percent
Aging …………………………………my poetry
beyond the abed bird
Not having a good day
excuse me I just need to fill up my chainsaw it is in my locker
Behold sequestered by the sea,
not whale, nor seal, nor small sand-flea.
This is the face of old grand Ewe,
whom from the cliffs, has come to view.
Though slit-eyed stare, gazes at the ocean,
watching it move in glorious motion.
And then slowly moves across the land,
as trotters deep in arduous sand.
But none the less, the ewe finds the rock,
somewhere steady, to rest her flock.
And signals up with baas of glee,
as sheep come down, all primed for tea.
Yet when the waves do come to shore,
Ewe is perplexed by fish galore.
It flaps its tail, and moves its fin,
yet gasps for air with frightful grin!
For no chud nor chard to eat but bark,
blown in from prior stormy dark.
Ewe signals to the nearby scene,
and struts upon its golfing green.
And takes a bite and likes the taste,
and soon the whole flock emigrate.
Yet by the morn, when putters come,
the grass is gone, all in Ewe's tum.
And so sequestered by put and club,
Ewe takes her flock all way back up.
To grassy cliff, to rocky hills,
away from modern-day, beach side thrills.
But never will the Ewe forget,
The escapade, with no regret.
03.17.2024
Best of friends
Are me and ewe,
Ain't no ends...
For us two...
Spent all the day
One day a year,
Running away
From our shear
Not with our kin
And not in the barn,
Not soon to be in
Grandma's yarn
Lucky is the cow
The heifer, the bull,
The piglet and sow
Never lose their wool
We're getting lost
Nowhere to be seen,
Licking the frost
In a meadow green
Feeling so free to
Frolic with the bees,
Where long grasses grew
Nearly up to our knees
Love to sniff each
Dandelion and daisy,
Temptation in reach
Drives us both crazy
Had eaten our fill
Before the bumbles,
Rolled on a hill
Taking tumbles
Me and my buddy
Finding trouble,
And getting muddy
In a pile of rubble
Fleece, white as snow
Not telling Mother,
All that we know
About one another
Of the springtimes
The unicorn, the fairy,
The nursery rhymes
About us and Mary
Best of friends
Are me and ewe,
Ain't no ends...
For us two...
With an impulsive cognizance of the mother instinct
In physique and psyche, with her lambs, she's lovingly linked.
Her head-butting, as though she looks furious, does not hurt.
Her bleat is rhythmic, like a harmonious bass concert.
Like a mom lauds her kids, to lambs the ewe show her love.
As human spirits, is an ewe's soul, sent from above?
Cultures, religions, histories, and theologies praise
Of her flesh, blood, and veins, the science artfully portrays
Symbol of life that flows from human-divine alertness
Isn't there, in an ewe, a unique peacefulness?
Harmony of wily innocence and witty shrewdness
O ewe! You're a magnum opus of divine fullness.
Along the roads of grassy fields
where thousands of sheep flit from
Astray from the flock, flouting,
fleeing with fear
blindly following.
Driven through the streets of London
at the Barnet fair to the farmers there.
But the way, takes an insalubrious plot.
Sheer confusion along the countryside
sets in on the herd, then stray
when eddying rapids currented by the tide
and force of the streams give, taken
to an endless frequent float
for great distances steered, stirred
while the timorous turn 'round.
An endeavor to gain the place they set off
As along ancient grassy drove road lies,
weary shepherd and his sheepdog.
Drovers, some on the hoof
The sheep shall stray
back to stay presently in Eden's garden
Jade-green grassy hills of harvest gold,
and cerulean skies.
Have you ever seen a lamb
With it's beautiful eyes
Curly hair standing small
The color of purest white
On a visit to a barn
I saw this beautiful thing
Standing still ready to run
Looking straight at me
I was struck with adoration
I had never had before
I saw what God had seen
When he his son adored
That lamb became the metaphor
To describe Gods feeling for him
An instantanious reckoning
For something that could not sin
When I think of Mary
The ewe that brought him forth
In charge of the care for him
With love that comes from birth
I think of how simple it was
To love without command
To take what was writen in her heart
And do it with her hands
Not much was said of Mary
But she was always there
The joy and burden she carried
For her little lamb
Blessed are you among women
You that give him birth
Taking care of things charged to him
Letting true love come forth
Do you know the love writen
On most all mothers hearts
Have you ever been smitten
By nature and its art
How comparable is the love
Of the ewe and her lamb
To the love that you have
For the love you have for Gods lamb
Ewe is a sweet, playful gifted sheep
Who seldom goes to shed to sleep.
She loves to explore all around
Doing lot of things that’ll astound.
She goes far without losing her way
She always comes back another day.
She kisses everyone with her gentle nose
She’s tame and amiable, gaining no foes.
She’s bleating in a lovely rhythmic tune
Her Baa Baa Black Sheep gives a fortune.
She learns the melody from her shepherd
Who always sings with his parrot bird.
All farm animals show her safe roads to go
Her best friends are Baa-Baa, Billy and Moo.
She’s so humble and faithful to everyone
Recognizing her shepherd as number one.
She’s too keen, loyal with strong senses
Leading her back to her flock’s fortress.
Oh ewe, oh ewe, dear don't you run away
I've come to play ‘Ba Ba’ with you, so will you stay?
I'm not going to shear you like I did before
I've left shearing tool behind 'cause my hands are sore
It's a beautiful day, and Uncle Sun is out
The bad wolf will not come hunting, we have dog scouts
We can play with the rams too, but beware of them
They have lusty designs on you and every femme
The stupid rams are so vain and proud of their horns
We'll send them, and dogs, chasing wolves into bush thorns
We'll dance all day to 'Old MacDonald Had a Farm...'
Evening we'll have fresh hay, blanket to keep us warm
Night we'll play 'Ba Ba Black Sheep Have You Any Wool'
When you're tired and drowsy, I'll shear you with my tool
Job done, I'll tuck you in, and put the wool away
‘Morrow, light and sprightly, you'll again want to play
.
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ty so much for 17yearz uv bliss...heck yeah! Listen up...I won 2nd
place in a poetry contest for 6-8th graderz, I 6th, which consisted uv
300 uv thuh 600 students...huge public school in Philly...anywho,
I never stop'd writing. Once I felt that mine think mature'd, i sought
out thuh poetry forum to find kindred with...damn wuz that hard!
Anywho...ty for let'n me spill...and I'll tell y'all, though i felt az i had
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case...i've learn'd so much from thuh sum'y'all...and yuh know;
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az thuh write 'bout, ourn to thuh sum; miss'd, carolyn devonshire
("Carolyn's Ranch") or my buddy; daver austin... and mine butterfly
charmaine chircop..and ourn potty mouth jan allison ")> etc. etc...
..well, enough uv mine babble....so, lol, I iz who i iz, I don't think that
it's by coincidence that i've had so much positive with thuh feminine,
that, that's all I write about...i'll probably croak 'fore I finish write'n all
uv thuh wonderful experiencez with thuh fem-i-'nine'< I mean...that
werd iz "nine"..thus now more y'all know how my sayz; fem-i-nine.
by-thuh-way, did y'all check out "my" new poetry form..."dip"...check
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At the county fair when the time keeper went toot.
Little Natan riding a ewe bolted out of the shoot
Keeping his weight level was quite a fight
Mom and dad watched as he hung on with
all his might. Many couldn’t have done what he did.
Eight seconds is good stats for a five year old kid
He knew he had a reder rump.
When the rope fell through the terret, off of
The ewe he did jump
He said without a selles you shouldn’t ride
Don’t be a kook and hurt your backend hide.
This boy is an amazing tot.
He’s looking for a new gig that’s hot
Riding down a river on a kayak
might be fun. A racecar
Might do, but never another ewe!
5/12/2018
toot, Natan, ewe, level, mom, dad, did, stats, reder, terret, selles, kook, tot, gig, kayak, racecar