Long Prairie grass Poems
Long Prairie grass Poems. Below are the most popular long Prairie grass by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prairie grass poems by poem length and keyword.
On a cold December night, a snowstorm
failed to stop a fire in Colorado.
And tinder-dry trees fueled a firestorm
that turned two towns into ash and shadow.
A prairie grass fire in Boulder County,
wiped out Superior and Louisville.
And folks celebrating Christmas bounty,
saw their neighborhoods reduced to landfill.
Well-over, a thousand homes got destroyed,
many others severely scorched and burnt.
And to those left homeless and unemployed,
the Marshall fire is still fresh and current.
Families watched their dreams go up in smoke,
no one smiled, no one joked, and no one spoke.
(Sonnet)
01/09/2022
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen..."UP In Smoke"
Garden of a Meager Harvest
By David J Walker
The rusted remains
of the old farm truck
Remain on the untilled patch
of prairie grass plains
as long as I
can remember
The old Farmall tractor
Planted on the southside of a
Long row to hoe
that I know
All too well
A windmill unused for years
Squeals and creeks in a wind
That still tries in vain to
Turn its blades
For a cool drink of water
Monuments held
captive inside a
barbed wire fence
as if to prevent an escape
The trusted truck stands ready
As if it’s rusted out bed could
Carry to market the fruit of
A summers labor
The remains of the old
Pick-up lost its windows
Long ago
Field mice have nested under
The bench seat and eat
Everything that isn’t rusted metal
How long before its tires
Finally expire
exhaling rust
Giving up the ghost
Of a dusty last breath
Of a garden's meager harvest
High above the prairie grass and buds
I saunter to meet the close of day...
Nightingales echo their welcome song
As brocade of Summer's finery
Bedecks the canyons with moonstone hues.
My gaze is lost in this eve's marquee
Of auroral light that dances bright ;
Where rocky hills and jasmines parade
All aflame, beneath this single flow,
With ever breathless rhythm and glide.
Each creature pauses in tranquil awe—
I am just another soul enthralled
By this portrait designed on canvas,
As her primeval beauty is well drawn
Through splashed colors from night's fragrant heat!
~
For Broken Wing's Form P Contest
Theme: picture 5/29/2017
One day while wan’dring far afield
I heard a tortoise shriek
“Oh, curse this shell, infernal cell…
I haven’t got all week!”
I dropped down low, I snuck up slow
then spied him through the brush
and though he scarcely moved an inch
he wailed, “I’m in a rush!”
The world a-turning; daylight burning
the angry tortoise crept.
I asked him what the matter was
and at my voice he leapt.
He ducked his head and pulled his legs
and huddled in his shell.
I laid down in the prairie grass
and waited out the spell.
“I’ve naught but time.” Said I to he,
“There’s no need for your worry.
Besides, I know I heard you say
that you were in a hurry.”
Slowly…just as turtles do
He showed one of his eyes.
Then slower yet, his head appeared
but he refused to rise.
“What do you want?” He asked of me,
“You’ll make me later still!
I need to get across this field
and over yonder hill.”
“The hare’s asleep o’er in the sage
he thinks he’s got me beat.
So, there he naps, but joke’s on him…
I’m lightning on my feet!”
“Except my shell keeps getting caught
it’s snagged in all these flowers.
Unholy pack, upon my back
I’m wasting precious hours!”
With that he threw his tortoise fists
and did a little spin.
He almost got me on the nose
then gave a tortoise grin.
The flowers had all lost their grip,
his twirl set him free.
But the thing that happened next
was magical to see.
He gave me a slow tortoise wink
then went off like a gun.
I’ve never seen a beast of field
that he could not outrun.
I sat up in the meadow grass
and gave my head a shake.
A few feet off, I saw some ears,
the hare was now awake.
Although, that came as no surprise
I only can assume…
that he’d awoken at the launch
which made a sonic boom.
I dropped down low, I snuck up slow
then spied him through the brush.
And as he rubbed his sleepy eyes
the tears began to gush.
The world a-turning; daylight burning
the rabbit had just slept.
I asked him what the matter was
and at my voice he wept.
05/10/15
Entry for Burning Daylight
Sponsored by John lawless
Dawn is breaking over the park where my heart is sprinkled amongst the geese, deer which call this park home..
The wind is gently blowing the prairie grass, no sound you hear, as everything is at rest, I lay down in the grass as not to be seen.
The trees so tall with its branches provide a shelter for GODS creatures who are tired from trying to forage for food.
Staring up in the sky as I lay in the grass, I curl my lonely body into a ball, the emotion is too much, only Christ Jesus knows my sorrows, suddenly the deer are coming close suppose they too feel the beauty of this place?
The geese are dancing to the songs of the birds, sad are they too about departing this inclusive, safe, town?
The sun has risen, its warmth is shining on my baren skin, I close my eyes as to soak in this blissful scenery, I know not when I will return, as my home is not this blissful back home..
The wind, careless in its airy freedom,
Feverishly furrows the prairie grass.
With a cry like a lost spirit, it winds
And wails through leafless trees and toothless fence
To vent its eager force upon the boards
Of a lonely, weather-beaten farmhouse.
Afternoon sun shines ashen and mottled,
In slim slanting shafts, through a smoky pane,
Opaquely painting a penumbral room.
Dust motes dance before an empty stone hearth.
A man, like a silent sentinel, sits
Dreamless, and loveless, between the bare walls.
Wearily wringing his wrinkled thin hands,
He sloughs his solitary years away,
Staring sleeplike out an open screen door
Where stands a windmill, in still-life, framed.
Tumbleweeds pile against the west house wall;
And a plough lies broken in drifted sand.
#### Swamming Sea Turtles ~ Inspiring beauty!! ####
Solacing the land,Coast to coast,
Love, fire and Toast to toast,
Erotic Love ~ The god's gift resulted into Young baby chap!!
Sea bracing golden sand,
Sun blossomed with the early dawn,
Carapace shell ~ Turtle mingled with the outside world easily!!
With the early day spring,
Rose to fame on the Sea shore,
Peck on cheeks ~ Baby turtles ejecting out of the shell!!
Moonlighting the world of parents,
Holding the fragile soft feet,making insane,
Blessed armour ~ In its peer way, removing the blues down the lane!!
Twinge of guilt, Parents pays,
Moving slowly and steadily blinking the rays,
Finding hard, trying to hold them,
Thatcher moment ~ To act in a sensible way!!
Dainty delicated tender arms,
Ohh my sweet little lucky charm,
Fueled up energy,triggered my heart,
Chyming Heart ~ You Resolved the riddle of my life!!
In an autumn,
Prairie grass lying at the base of elevated mountains,
The words melted in my mouth,
Pleasant sheathe ~ Enrapturing attention seeker, You flared my cotton sky!!
Oh my rabbit eyes,
You changed my world!!
Luminous asteroid ~ Miraculously, You changed the stars of my planet!!
Aquafirs miles away in my mind
warming with springtime sun
lapping upon the shores of my memory
sending involuntary movements to my legs
moving thoughts to music echoing in my limbs
Beethoven's 5th. Symphony catapults me out the door
into glorious sunshine
hiking trails, dormant for months (seems like years)
staring at boulders basking in the sun
touching bark on trees grooves of my growth
smelling the earth dug up with my hands
sifting my life turning my face towards the sun
warming tidal planes in my mind
recalling the ebb and flow of me upon this land
marking my scent in the woods (as men do)
tracking the sun as
it moves across my day foraging sprouting edibles
as earth releases life
pausing to lay down in prairie grass and nap
in sweet scented dreams refilling all my senses
for the journey...
I have still to travel
I have still to travel...
03/29/14
© All Rights Reserved
These old boots, they've sure been around. They don't know where their goin' but they sure know where they've been. Drinkin' Corona and dancing with a Mexican Senorita in Jaurez, the smell of perfume and Tequila fill the air. Gracias for the good time, but these old boots got to go. Hitched a ride on an old cattle truck to El Paso, my Stetson blocking the sun and hiding my bloodshot eyes. Throwing cow chips at an old wooden fence, I count the $100 dollars I just made at the slaughter house, the foreman said "you work like that you'll make good money boy". "Thanks, but these old boots got to go" I said. "That $100 dollars sure went fast", I told the deputy as he unlocked the gate at the jail sitting in downtown Amarillo smoking a Marlboro with my thumb in the air, thinkin', these old boots got to go. Tired and weary, I got a motel room for $50 bucks I made on a sway-back horse in a low-class rodeo outside Albuquerque but don't remember much about last night other than the empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Dippin' in a can of Kodiak, I'm thinking to myself, these old boots got to go. That Budweiser sure did taste good after bailing hay in the snow in Durango, as night fell pickin' my guitar as the cowgirls on the dancefloor cut a rug. I thought to myself, the good times don't last forever so these old boots got to go. I've been a lot of things' and nonthin at the same time, money in my pocket and a liquor bottle, I roll on down the road like a tumbleweed blowing in the wind. Back in big sky country, the prairie grass sways in the breeze casting shadows on my tombstone. Hard work and hard drinkin' caught up to me, but I had fun y'all, these old boots got to go...........
Born in the mid west, a long time ago
in the sunflower state where the prairie grass grows
she would spend many days, sharing stories and dreams
Tho' my own feet have never been blessed to step near the place
I would watch as she told me, with glistening eyes
I pictured each message, while I quietly listened....
Some might have seen it, in much different hues
but the Kansas I've seen, was from Grandmother's view
It awakens in spring with new sprouting grain
After brittle white frost, or slush under the rain
I have seen just how golden a wheat field might grow
I shall know how a wagon, dark-framed, work at rest
Waits by a shed, and how two horses will stand
Waiting and grazing where the fence-line might bend
I can see quivering trees, and stiff shocks of corn
The amber of the noon, and the warm sun-cured hay
Milking cow barn, and the old chicken shed
And a barn filled with pigs wait to be fed
A lone, white farm house, with a big front porch
And how a bible rests...on the nightstand, next to a bed
How harsh the weather, how the Chinook wind shakes the roof
And how fast a family gathers, into a cellar when tornados are due
And the sound of a meadowlark, and a hot wood stove and coal black soot
The kindness of folks, and the loss and heartaches
And the smell of roasted chicken, and bread as it bakes
In this place of her birth..... is the scent of the earth...
I see the brown and green
I see what she has seen.......yet only through her eyes
As I stand by her side...under a Kansas prairie sky....