Long Incubate Poems
Long Incubate Poems. Below are the most popular long Incubate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Incubate poems by poem length and keyword.
A bird of grandiose stature, he struts the veld
do not anger him for his powerful kick
can main or even kill. Gently he watches
over his brood their mother left long ago.
It falls onto him to incubate their eggs.
Impressive wing span as he shades his chicks
from the relentless midday scorching sun.
Watch those long legs hammering away
as he chases off a rival who strays too close.
Yet for all his strength and size a pea of a brain
famous for hiding his head in the sand
as if it will make him invisible from sight,
he does look so weird bum stuck up in the air.
Attracted by anything that glitters
he gobbles up all sorts of weird things.
Once tamed his joy is to run in races but rarely
in a straight line as he veers here and there,
oft times leaving mayhem in his wake.
As dusk falls he gathers up his brood
and struts off into the setting sun
his life is really quite a simple one
with freedom to roam the sunlit veld.
Here comes a mom duck a crackling,
All her flock close by following—
All of the chicks seventeen
That makes alive wetland scene.
In fresh-water swamps comb ducks breed,
Togetherness their sole creed
Till they disperse in wet season,
So scorching when gets the sun.
Reaching up to a huge hundred,
O Knob-billed ducks, appears your deed
That has no leader to lead,
A serpentine tail there’s, nor head.
To us men, a few things ye teach—
Sticking to no chairs as if leech,
You’re no proud frogs, nor cocky cocks,
You have leaders that foster flocks.
Ye haply feed on swampy green,
Or else on sturdy water weeds,
On smaller fish and sundry seeds,
Peace and order seems your scene.
I admire how your life you lead,
Glad with your girth, shorn still of greed—
Yea, to see any of you lean
Be rare as your tinge, blue with green.
Who can call you ugly duckling?
And beauty there's in white and black,
Just one thing you perhaps still lack—
The way you sing— a coarse crackling.
With feathers black and body white,
And hints of dark blue tinged with green,
A speckled neck, greyish, yet bright,
Your claws I’m sure should peace-prize win—
Webbed, for hunt nor for fight are made,
Nor your beak an aggression shows,
Nor is there any war-like red,
Nor hunting, harming a duck knows.
As mom you seem considerate,
And care-worn, eggs to incubate,
Ye raise chicks all by you alone,
A dozen and more all your own!
______________________________________
Comb duck, or knob-billed duck an unusual pan-tropical bird is found in tropical wetlands of sub-Saharan Africa, Madagascar, South Asia from far of Pakistan through India to Laos and extreme South China. Everywhere, these so-called ugly ducklings have a beauty of their own.
Nature | 08.08.11 |
He cannot soar as eagles do
Singing is not for him tis true
So this tale is told in black and white
in places where cold winds blow
So bundle up and take this flight
On a journey to the floe
It's summertime but freezing still
And his mate passes him her new laid egg
And then she's off to feed on fish and krill
As he balances the egg on his feet with skill
He must incubate the egg till hatched
As he awaits her return
She will come back and feed baby bird with her catch
And he will go to sea for which he yearns
He will dive beneath the churning waves
And glide beneath the ocean blue
Catching fish for which he craves
He will do an underwater ballet too
He calls Antarctica home
And is the only creature to winter there
It's much too cold for others to roam
He is attired well, a 'tuxedo' he wears
7-9-2020
Journey out to clean crisp air
Out beyond and over where
Giant trees reach for the sky
Butterflies flutter by
Wombats dig within the dirt
Bowerbirds woo and flirt
Decorating brighter blue
Nature's love must pass onto
The mate to lay and incubate
Eggs to hatch from the wait
Of timeless time to nurture young
As evolution has begun
Life will be forevermore
For the aves we all adore.
The animals will be just fine
On the land that is divine
Providing that we all respect
Care for them and reconnect
Let them be, to be aware
Our land, our world, our people share
Whilst daylight shines a golden glow
Upon the Earth and all below.
Blessed witness
Come to me my child
Father says to me in a still voice
You're my mine beloved
I created you from heaven
Sent you down to earth
Through a spiritual tunnel
Grew within a womb of your mother
Father fertile the egg of mama
You'll incubate inside mother's womb
Until you emerge
Spirit first encased in flesh Before during and after, past, present future tense
Angels sing God ordain you
Beloved beautiful
Blessed witness
Hallelujah forever blessed
Nine months covered until you emerge
Come to me my child
Father says to me in a still voice
You're my mine beloved
I created you from heaven
Sent you down to earth
Come to me my child
Father says to me in a still voice
You're my mine beloved
Blessed witness
6/30/25
Written words & music by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
From “I CRY OUT TO YOU”
“But you have never been a scout, " she said.
“Yes,” I agreed, “but I know these woods, and I will do a terrific job.”
So she hired me as her scout.
I showed her the layout of my bank, and we peeked at my eggs.
I have to incubate them tomorrow, I warned her
So I will have to have tomorrow off.
She could see that she had hired the right kingfisher
When I took her to see the bee-eaters,
mot mots, todies and ground rollers.
It was unfortunate when Uncle Azure flew too hard at his tree and fatally injured himself, falling at her feet.
A friend of yours? She asked me.
“A relative,” I told her.
She hired me, and I showed her the kingfisher family
in Africa, Asia, and Oceania.
She was amazed at our long pointed bills and long heads.
I was amazed that she wanted to give me paper as payment,
when I wanted bugs and invertebrates.
A screen door
creaks
small incursions
into rip and hole.
Unseen, a creeping grub and thriving,
chitinous mandibles
munch upon the desiccated dead,
thrive in the thrash and mingle.
Corruption forms its disorderly queue,
jointed question marks
walk on segmented legs
spindly limbs pry
where slick eggs incubate.
As time swings its metronome,
splintered chips
flake away, wood
cracks its rotting bones.
Internal scaffoldings
crumble,
mold multiplies,
mildew clings to
muck.
A festering wriggles forth.
"Honey, can you oil the back door,
it's creaking again."
I scrunch my butt deeper into the sofa.
"I'll get on it after the game." I say,
making a mental note
to get more beers in,
Tomorrow, slap some paint
over the wormholes
maybe.
The spring anthem doth now sound
Helpless eggs lie all around
Encased larva still tightly bound
Brooding mothers redound
Ingenious caretakers cover nest and mound
Ravenous predators scour tree and ground
Doting Queens have nests tightly wound
Succoring honey begins to compound
Aging pupa entombed all around
Nubile creatures more nutrition impound
Docile minions escape their waxy mound
Tracking nectar wherever flowers abound
Hovering matrons incubate above ground
Enervating heat the eggs must surround
Brimming yoke with new features expound
Emerging embryo can now be found
Emboldened chick with beak doth pound
Suddenly from cracked shell does new life resound.
Form:
Emotional Burdens Set Sail on Dark Waters Lagoon
Adrift, Under the Soft Light of the Waxing Crescent Moon
Subtle the Reflection, the Tapered Lunar
Gently Glistened Dark and Murky Ethereal Water
The Rippled Surface Parted to Embrace Oshun's Daughter
Dark Waters, Uncharted Enchanted Tantric Whispers
With Urgency, Implores the Mystic Explorer
Seeking Light in the Dark
Hoping for Star Lights to Illuminate a Path
Opaque and Obscure Neptunian Watery Depth
Bubbles revealing a Treasure Cave where Creativity is Kept
Nurturing Seeds of Aspiration
Dark Waters Incubate Newly Conceived Inspiration
Piscean Streams of Motivation Needed
To Aide the Birth of the Water Lily Seeded
Dark Water, Dark Moon Daughter
Now Submerged In Blissful Abysmal Depths
Dreamy Trance, Her Secrets the Dark Waters Kept.
Written March 8th, 2016
Set fire to the rain
Gasoline and symmetry
Watch the flames rise over dewdrops
Hear my horn part the sea
On days with low visibility
Mile horizons comfort me
When clouds can incubate my history
If I gave everything up
Count to one hundred ninety three
One for every mile
That I'm away from heaven
Would you still love me
If I gave everything up
Could I take you, take you with me
You've taken another piece of me
Made me give everything up
You say it's payment to feel free
If freedom comes in yellow paint
Then swerve in one, two, three
"The closest thing to heaven
Is what you mean to me
You really won't mind heaven
Just hope you're dying to see me"