Long Hereabouts Poems
Long Hereabouts Poems. Below are the most popular long Hereabouts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hereabouts poems by poem length and keyword.
[This episode in the Ice Cream Gran saga is inspired by
Jennifer Proxenos’ comment on another of my poems.]
*
Ever since she saved the world, she can’t hide any place
For now her fame is global and the whole world knows her face
But from outside, she hears a loud and quite suspicious din
She holds her breath until she’s sure nobody’s coming in
Cautiously, she nears her door and opens it a tad
Three old ladies stand there, one is bleeding and looks mad
She said beneath your car we’ve found a very chilly moggie
And it’s been pouring down, so all the roads are cold and soggy
I struggle with my knees but still I knelt to set it free
I think it’s feral cos it made a jigsaw out of me
Turbo Said that car’s not mine, for I am Ice Cream Gran
And I take measures to conceal my bright pink ice cream van
But let me grab my zimmer and I’ll see what I can do
I’d better take some chocolate chips, perhaps a sprout or two
She quickly grabbed her mask and cape and went outside to help
Then looked under the car before she let out quite a yelp
Turbo leapt back from car, she bled where she’d been scratched
Her eyes were red like lasers and a vengeful plan was hatched
The wheels popped off, the car collapsed and squashed that kitty flat
But then the car flipped over to reveal an angry cat
Oops, said ice cream Gran as she beheld its cape and mask
You only had to purr at me, was that too much to ask
For underneath the car was dark, and my excuse is that
My special turbo eyesight didn’t see you, Nitro Cat
She said you are my cat, we make a top notch turbo team
But can’t you just be happy with a dish of whipped ice cream
For, yes, I know you like to be the top cat hereabouts
But you will be in trouble if you keep eating my sprouts
Behind silvery gray animus clouds, the moon does hide.
The night does cry; its heartbeat rise and falls, like the tide.
Celestial, sleepless, unbending, cold night gathered overhead,
Veiling eerie shadows, eternal time with hideous guise, dread.
Idle and dank, surrounded by broken-down fencing and gnarl skeletal tree,
A grave “No TRESPASSING” sign forbidding entry to the beastly;
Hangs warding off the unwanted and those had doubts,
Only spiders spurred, floating sticky secure line hidden hereabouts.
Wind weaves through mangled limbs with howls, and spies embed
A gaunt, ghostly, hollow, hooded man, sickle in hand, in its stead;
Reaping of life, lifting his black haunting mound shroud a ted.
Condemned, refusing to release its ghostly dead.
Strain, howling, a full moon he stands, searchingly ahead;
Pain screams rip from his throat, bones, and soft tissue bled.
A stir in the air dares to forsake, on, as he falls to his knees, unfed.
Conned the night a moment longer, blood it did crave, then fled.
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to Brussel Sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with all the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Anybody wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Happy Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before next December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!
Grackles
I rambled along a city street
Going nowhere with no one to meet
When I espied grackles in a tree,
Stretching and heckling between the leaves.
Purplish-headed, black-feathered beings,
Perched on the branches, stately and free.
Undaunted by my drawing nearer,
Their yellow eyes traced my demeanour.
And when I stopped to observe the plague
While standing ‘neath the foliage shade,
They dropped to the ground and hopped around
Searching for bugs and seeds to swallow down.
Other birds in the vicinity,
Colourfully dressed and singing brightly,
Flitted about but could not drown out
The grackles’ cacophony hereabouts.
Their corny antics invoked my senses
To marvel that such creatures existed.
And as I continue my dreary way
In this world of bland human display,
I think of them enjoying the summer,
Filling my heart with spirited wonder.
And I chuckle to myself by chance to see
Grackles basking in tall broadleaf trees.
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to brussel sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with all the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Anybody wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Jester Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!
Image of Coyote Animal Snow by Pixabay
Coyote Corner
Coyotes are wolves near cognate brothers,
closer to jackals who are bred o'er seas,
plus, noted slang for smugglers of mothers
and tots who lacked to grasp the ABCs.
Found hereabouts the USA, merely
south of the border some ways then back up
northbound throughout Canada. Stars queerly
dusk also dawn ... wreak howls, dull stares faceup.
Coyotes balance the way that they hunt;
when they are alone, they pounce on small prey,
nevertheless, whenever they confront
larger beast's, pack forms and perfects the slay.
When faced by coyotes, thrash your body,
yell, throw objects or be a wolf and *pee.
*Though blood brothers, wolves are also a coyote's nemesis and they are quite savvy of "marking one's territory".
2021 June 1
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND SONNET
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 July 30
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to Brussel Sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Any Soupers wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Jester Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Hereabouts the thinning glades
Of sparse grey Birches:
Brackens crisp copper tresses
All aglow;
Gently waking Snowdrops
Lift their sleepy heads
From leafy beds of woodland moil,
When tucked snugly up,
Out of intrusive sight and just
Below.
Fondly the slowing bend
Hugs upon the river...
Banked heavily with frosted
Bulrushes
That shifting breezes once did so
Stiffly blow;
The faltering current,
That sped the pied Dipper,
Patiently seeks out the quiet
Devotions
Of her beguiling flow.
When the drawing Moonlight
Gives way to purple Twilight
In the gloaming
Of Winters sharp days;
When the yellowy willows
Weep watery glints
Lingering and loitering...
Pining for long Summers slanted
Rays.
For far, far, high above
Over the old red-bricked mill...
Whose creaking sluice gurgles
With long melancholy sighs:
Heavens twinkling stars,
Held briefly in abeyance,
Partially obscured by thin veils of
Dull-leaden, magenta tinged skies.
Where the low horizons fall
And briefly meet the mornings
On heathered moor, open field,
And inland shore:-
Here beached boats dreaming
Of white crested waves;
Soon the keen plough will make
Ready
To score the deep furrows once
More.
Now our Lady Skadi,
Purest and resplendent,
Through driving sleet
And blinding blizzards will ascend -
Returning to aged fortress
Of eternal Utgard
Leaving her thawing snows
To dispel long Winters End!