Long Kew Poems
Long Kew Poems. Below are the most popular long Kew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kew poems by poem length and keyword.
No one seemed to take much note at first.
Old-timers on park benches passed a comment or two,
Somebody wrote a letter to the local rag,
but no one (who mattered, that is)
really seemed to mind.
Of course, you will always have
your bellyachers and woolly romantics
with nothing better to do than whine
about the way things are going, -
the loss of bird life, the silenced dawn chorus,
the vanishing English hedgerow,
you know the sort of thing.
The leaves began falling long before autumn.
"Funny," they said, "curious," "that's one for the book."
This was all very interesting for botanists,
environmentalists, chemists and the like.
Such words as "pollution," "soil erosion"
and "deprivation" were bandied about,
but no one was much the wiser though
the experts were agreed on one point.
"Photosynthesis provides the basis of all life."
This was interesting but nothing like
as interesting as the favourite for Ascot,
the football results, the Top of the Pops,
the late night thriller or the FT index.
All that changed.
Foresters and timber merchants became concerned
about the decaying cores of many trees.
The government became concerned, too,
(not so much about the fate of the trees as such
as about the effect the scarcity of wood
was having on the paper industry and inflation).
Then the doom-watchers caught the scent
and there was talk of an imminent ecological collapse,
but the man in the street still
passed it all off as the usual load of rot.
Then Kew Gardens, Epping Forest, Central Park,
the Everglades and the Bois de Boulogne
went the way of all wood.
A tramp, locally known as Nat the Nut,
was found in the village cemetery gibbering,
Before being bundled into an ambulance,
he was heard to say:
"With these very ears I heard 'em groan,
and this is what one of 'em said:
'Tonight we are dying, yew and I,
and the morrow sees us dead.'
And the willows wept in the valleys
and the trees on the hills pined away."
When the harvest failed,
the church bells tolled
for a woe no man could gainsay,
for none doubted then the trees were lost
or held it was only they.
mallards... a pair
koi carp can't compete... duck feet
strang orange shapes
~
sunshine... summertime
fickle spring... climate changing
muted cuckoos
~
Jenny wren... begging
let summer have its way
seasons confound spring
~
first orange tip
fluttered by... seeking partners
tortoiseshell denied
~
sloe... blackthorn blossoms
cover branches... bumper crop
sloe gin... matures
~
the rose of love... red
a plantation... perfumed peace
goodwill offerings
~
small cabbage white...
large cabbage white... survivors
man persecutes all
~
badger road kills... lies...
badger baiting kill... no thought
chucked onto roads
~
the gardening
red squirrels... setting acorns
galleons can thank
~
a twinkle... a star
no... the magic in your eyes
casting true love spells
~
the smell of cut grass
tossed... laid out to dry... fodder
winter sustenance
~
the wolf calls... howling...
you will not hear one cry
only man cries wolf
saffron... stamens
a tasty orange surprise
sunshine on a plate
~
why do we cut grass
clip our hedges... keep them neat
habitat destroyed
~
a speckled wood
dappled shadows dancing
no... a butterfly
~
kew gardens... flora
dandelions... speedwell... moss...
natures eye candy
~
leaf cutter bees
slugs... snails... caterpillars...
unpaid gardeners
~
tulips fading... done
bluebells charming... chiming on
grateful are the bees
~
koi carp now feeding
mallard ducks most welcomed
a pond to ponder
~
pond skaters... a joy...
blackbird bathing... pigeon drinks
hark... a dusk solo
~
darkness enhanced
glowworms... fireflies... fairies
natural raves... fun
~
dive into the depths
swim with dolphin... surf the waves
sunset calling time
~
kelp forest... waves...
syncronised perfection...
fry sanctuary...
The old lady planted roses near the corner by the driveway
She never planted roses by the door
I remember once she told me, "Bees come out to get the nectar"
And a bee sting can be deadly or quite sore
Instead, she planted herbs along the walkway to her cottage
You'd pass by, the scent was rather nice
Rubbing rosemary and lemon grass and sage against your trousers
Sometimes you would even walk by twice
She had hollyhocks and primrose, a classic English garden
Lots of fragrant trees and bushes there as well
There were cedars by the windows and hyacinth close by
If she even had a lawn, you couldn't tell
There were irises and tulips, daffodils and more
And great bushes of white lavender abound
Not only was the lawn gone, with the bushes and the trees
I bet from inside you'd nary hear a sound
Around the back the same thing, exactly as the front
Herbs and plant life, and I'd say maybe more
Than all the plants in Englands Kew Gardens have to see
And more lilacs by the walkway by the door
The vents from down the basement blew through cedars and the lilacs
Sending warming scents around the clustered yard
There were windows to the basement, blocked by flowers and the trees
And to see in was really rather hard
The one day I remember when I came out to the house
Is one I know I'll not forget
For walking down the pathway with a policeman on each side
Was the old lady with a look of deep regret
It seems the scented flowers and the bushes and the trees
Provided scents to hide the smells from deep inside
The air was vented out directly through the flowers
The house was just a grow op in disguise
In Kew Gardens I feast on
daffodils and swans and honk-
ing geese in turf protection mode
and one spectacular show
from a strutting peacock’s tail,
its color chart exploding
against the day’s gray weather.
On warmer days Kew is packed
with mums and dads and kiddies
running about or being pushed
in prams. Today’s marginal
weather has cut the numbers.
I am drawn to a park’s promises
in crowd depleting weather. .
In youth I’d sit on a bench
beneath a chestnut tree and feel
fully protected from rain
by the natural umbrella
of thick leaves above my head
or, barefooted, tramp through wet
grass after the midday storm.
In the misted gray of not
quite Spring Kew Garden isn’t
in full bloom but I can feel
the promise of warmer days and,
with luck, the persistent need
of a peacock to impress
his ladies with the full bloom
of his magnificent tail.
O'er many a stormy water,
between raging storms we see
a time of peace, tranquility,
a calmness - time to be.
When we think we travel the road alone,
when life is all despair;
reach out to distant far flung friends
and let us show we care!
We may not be able to lend a hand,
but we can a friendly ear.
By listening, give you voice - to make a stand,
allow that shed of tear.
To know we are not by ourself,
find things in life are 'fun'.
To recognise we're not on a shelf,
Our lives but just begun.
For each has a place upon this earth,
though sometimes it's hard to see;
but if we kew what to expect from birth -
we might not want to be.
Those who help others are angels,
that dwell within this world;
each has his own wrangles,
but when shared they become unfurled.
So I repeat
When we think we travel the road alone,
when life is all despair;
reach out to distant far flung friends
and let us show we care!
Misc. 74
Funny Thing
Thoughtfulness’ are remembered
long after the most lavish gifts have made their way to the landfill.
Tom
Second Nature
Being thankful
should be a thought-less job.
Tom
So Great A Faith
The trying of our faith is never greater
than the moment we accept Jesus Christ as our personal savior.
Tom
K.E.W.
Knowledge prepares us by giving us insight,
Experience can only be obtained through hindsight,
Wisdom comes from God through foresight.
Tom
His Blood Has Never Dried
Whenever I think of God’s sacrifice,
my thoughts are encapsulated by the cross.
God, finding no other who would suffice,
Gave us Jesus, without sin or dross.
Tom