Long Nests Poems
Long Nests Poems. Below are the most popular long Nests by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nests poems by poem length and keyword.
The death of winter carries varied sights.
In April, when dandelions roar, “It’s Spring!”
green yards transform by magic overnight.
Gramps had sprayed his lawn, but in ours weeds bring
an old game for kids as they dance and swing.
Small windmills in disguise, children spread seeds
giving Grandpa a cause for some dismay.
He is no grouch, fence conversation leads
to friendly talk of butterflies at play -
riddles about what nature does in May.
The kids amazed, watch squirrels building nests,
questions evolve about the birds and bees.
Gramps calls them varmints - Mother's Nature’s pests.
“Ask your folks”, he replies with cough and wheeze.
In naptime dreams, he aims a gun at trees.
Gramps takes a walk, golf umbrella hovers
for spring rains do not announce their coming.
A neighbor lady hobbles to cover.
Listen, his cane on her sidewalk - drumming,
sweet songs of spring love, two voices humming.
written May 7, 2014, edited on May 25, 2014
I was sleeping with my childhood
friend in the loosed cot.
The weak boy was recovering from
two months long typhoid's knot.
November night not so hot
But pleasant time stayed a lot.
The nightmare began with
Running and shouting of villagers
From hill side to their nests.
Unfortunately It was the daily routine
From home to hill after a night's rest.
A roaring tiger with red eyes
Was chasing them to get more cries.
Villagers were healthy and strong
So they can run fast to save their lives.
Feeble can't compete them in race
So it was me who was going to be prey.
The real chase in false world
I ran as fast as i could
But damn tiger had more power
If trees can hide they certainty try
Perhaps the devil's eyes forgot to blink
So i have to climb up
But the damn followed me.
When I saw danger without think
Jumped from the thin boughs
And ran towards the high wall.
The clear warning was written there
' Be aware of dogs ' but who read and care
By hook and cook i climbed on wall
Seeing the dogs i recognised my fault
The danger was on both sides
So without thinking i turned back twice.
Trembling and sweating in cold night
i was neither living nor dying
Silently pray my lord to save my life
Got blessed very soon
Opened eyes in full moon
Relaxed when found in the cot
Lying beside the buddy as ice hot.
That horrible night
Me and the tiger
Played hide and seek
Closed eyes the tiger chase
Opened eyes friend beside
But thank the Almighty
Who saved me with all priority.
I watched three birds of mine take flight
One right after the other
Each following a different path
Although their upbringings were much the same
They tested their wings in flight
While living in the nest with me
Sometimes imitating
Sometimes contrarian
But always looking for some form of approval ~
I hope I did not disappoint them too much
Although, free they fly
To heights and troughs they themselves maneuver
I continually try to provide wind underneath their wings
When needed
And when willing to accept
Sometimes having difficulty recognizing either
Proudly I watch them fly
Watch directions change on a whim
Watch them remake the same mistakes as I
Watch them achieve greater heights than I could ever achieve
Now they make nests of their own
And the cycle starts anew
I hope their skies are as bright for them
And the flight of their offspring just as thrilling
The winter wood are stark and empty
Open for all to see_deep
Deep into the soul
Undergrowth devoid of green_no blossoms seen
Wonderful time to explore for can't be taken by surprise
There is something about the winter woods that appeals_
Appeals to the human eye
It calls come tramp deep_discover about life
There are squirrel nests hidden high(in summer)
Along with misteltoe_now seen
One can see the squirrels play intelligent they are
Not eating the misteloe
Oh! how the winter woods stark and naked stand
Wanting to tell all that they understand
Come winter says come sit upon a rock, stump or knoll
Wait, watch, listen, learn,
As you go along in life, winter woods draws
Draws from its soul to mature the very being of the young
Foreign Travel- Portugal
It is all that is unspoken that gives a place its atmosphere.....the endless turmoils that come from living....peaceful Celts conquered by Romans
after centuries of resisting. The conquerers monuments still dominate large paved squares .....wide mosaic walking malls with outdoor cafes set a carefree atmosphere. Cobblestones retain the ancient tone of busy roads.
Teal seas sweep out to weathered coastlines ....white buildings jumbled over low hills. Resilient vineyards, olive orchards, cypress and eucalyptus trees, impervious to wind, dot the stony landscape. Dusty green foliage that triumphantly survives between rains.
.....And then there are the people- proud gracious and friendly. A cuisine that is complex but simple in a mind boggling variety. Delicate pastries filled with rich custards, endless varieties of savory pies. Earthy rustic dishes of meat,fish, beans and colorful salads. Buffets crowded with hearty breads, fragrant croissants and inviting desserts. A gastronomic adventure.
....next came the discovery of nesting storks at Comporte, a small coastal,resort town, one hour south of Lisbon. We encountered them in giant stick nests high atop tall chimneys on ancient buildings.
After that -was Casa Palmela ...our most treasured find. A regal, historic residence turned five star hotel. Grand in an old-world style.
Set on a vineyard with low white stucco walls, tall conifers and palms-low-growing with thick sturdy trunks. Who could describe the relaxed balmy atmosphere, the evenings discovering new delicacies and fine wines
in the warm glow of sunset. All too soon we had to leave
But then, why did we leave? To return again, I'm sure.
9/24/17
Foreign travel
Contest Judged: 10/7/2017 1:16:00 PM
Sponsored by: Thvia Shetley
Honorable Mention
buds, shoots, tulip bulbs,
alive grasses green
rose bushes, bird songs
everything charming ~
rejuvenates world
hummingbird soars,
lark sings merry
robin makes nests,
sparrows croon sweet
heron glides,
cheerful birds
rendezvous~
joyful~
season
Spring
March 4, 2021
Spring Diminished Hexaverse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Syllables checked by how many syllables.com
There is a bird in nature called the Cowbird.
It doesn't build a nest or rear its young.
Whether it lost the ability to or never knew how doesn't matter.
It doesn't rear its young or build nests.
It lays its egg in a songbird's nest.
It lets that host bird forage for the food that nurtures its chick.
While it watches hidden from view, ready to destroy its victim's chick should that host fail to submit.
It sees its young mature as the victim's young wither.
Willing to steal the efforts of the host to provide for the continuation of its way of life.
Destroying the bloodline of one species to promote the lack of action in another.
Oblivious of the fact that in its madness it too will die.
Oblivious to its folly.
Written 2021.06.30
Of all war brings
One is a disguised peace
And boldness to conquer fear
Of the darkest nights
And the silent mornings
To rain praises in morale at will
For news to reach the far distant neighboring countries
That each don't dream of attack
But I wonder if colonial masters ever heard of this
They came as eagles flying without wings
To make nests in hens village as police
Whose duty is to gear security but not to domineer
And to put all darkness plans to lights
By giving enough measures as warnings
Or get the reculcitrant lords drilled
Feeding back enough pleasantries
That will never dream to travel back
Even when all connections are at ease
War becomes admirable to lives
The only means to have the hen released
From seeming hungry eagles
That is never and shall not at will to let go
Of its captives that meant much to starvation
Even not for a lofty prank
Than hold on to it in all its might
Monitoring all possible escape routes
By neglecting no winks at break of the atmosphere
Our leaders' meetings become very active
As sacrifices nonstop increased
To grease the effort of freedom fighters like paralegals
To all ink on beautiful flow
And shelf bullets as eloquent reservation
Readily available for the blank
Roaring to fire out in plight
Congratulations to be sing on flutes
For the best wishes finally appear
Oh sweetest breeze carry me home
to fields of nectar-green
So I may rest my tired back
against the gentle old oak tree
I'll carve my name into its trunk
and seal it with my love
I blow a kiss with painted lips
that match the colour of my heart.
And when the moon deceives the dusk
with its persistent glowing light
Those unique limbs will reach for me
to keep me safe, they will protect me in the wild.
I'd nestle 'tween their tender strength
as spuming stars fill up the night.
And when at dawn the sun will rise
with molten gold warming my eyes
This skin will bathe in drops of dew
dripping from leaves of painters' sleeves
splashed with a glossy silver-hue.
The birds will fly out of their nests
cloaked in their fur red-breasted dress
They 'll sing to us,along we'll sway
like fresh-cut blossoms blooming in May.
Oh sweetest breeze carry me home
to fields of nectar-green
So I may rest my tired back
against the gentle old oak tree .
Oh sweetest breeze where is that place,
Where Is the place I call my own
Is there a voice , Is there a wind
Is there an oak tree calling me home?
Petals as accordion folds swell
Flowers leap from each, bulbous shell
Soft pastels brim on hill, in dale
Of blithe spring bachanalia fortell
Bees, butterflies breathe succulent smell
To waiting nests, hives tidings braille
Around perimeter, birds twigs, grass bale
Thatching the twines to kindred scale
Under nests, in mating dances flop, flail
Masculine birds strut in bland coats of mail
Feminine birds in bright dresses chivalry hail
Lads, lasses swoon under libidinous spell
Love's sweet nectar their holy grail
From barn to field, musty odors sweet scents trail
Frothy libations stream from every, tapped well