Long Savannahs Poems
Long Savannahs Poems. Below are the most popular long Savannahs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Savannahs poems by poem length and keyword.
Spilled from dew drenched petals,
an overflow of laughing ferns
warring with the still forms – graceful
amazed by the atmosphere of light
softly woven through the inklings, aglow
stirring winds beneath shadows
pouring from the twilight’s joy
softly threaded into the horizon, a sky
worn gray by the gentle hope
arising beyond the meadow’s charms
leaking, a trickle of melancholic
born of grief and glory
spattered with golden blossoms, dozens
bowing and kneeling to worship
praising their Creator, the Author of light
nodding like they’ve some reason
beyond the presence of silence
still forms, guided by the heartbeat, the rhythm
a song amid the savannahs quiet breath
pouring out joy through the air
bending and falling, calling to the morning
a reflection of still beauty, on the wings of truth
blowing across the steely skies
remembering the day when this artist transposed
the music of the heart to a story of genius
A facsimile of the earth stands proudly
On the savannahs of the ancient and modern.
Edifice of rustic finesse, rugged and pointed
With the glory of a pinnacle of a paradise on earth.
In your crawling presence, Termite, stand I,
Barefoot, on elevated earth for the first time —
A platform erected by the hands of gifted time,
All red-brown and royal, and under the tutelage of
Sun and Rain —two keen-eyed foremen descended from heaven.
You have reached the skies before man.
I hail you!
I have removed my open-toe footwear,
Like Moses did his in the burning bush.
Babel forbids the union of this construction,
Aiming Nimrodly upwards and towards arrowed clouds
Dispersed in blubbering tongue-lashes.
But you do not seek God’s wrath upon these grasslands
With these anthills,
Wild castles —testaments to the will of fecund grounds.
Termite, break the jinx of your muteness.
Testify, crawling soul, testify harmoniously,
Borrowing the singing heritage of the Common Cuckoo.
Testify now.
Attest
To the ruggedness and puissance of this imposing structure,
And blame it on the staccato rhythm of peevish languages.
Where sun-kissed savannahs endlessly sweep,
And acacia crowns the skies, a verdant keep,
A titan walks, with earth-shaking tread,
A monument of grace, with wisdom bred.
Oh, Elephant, colossal and wise,
Your eyes, like embers, gleam beneath the skies.
Your ivory tusks, like sun-bleached spears,
Pierce the heavens, dispelling all our fears.
Through emerald depths, you silently stride,
A living fortress, with nature as your guide.
Your trunk, a trumpet, blasts a rhythmic call,
Echoing through valleys, grand and tall.
With a gentle touch, you pluck a leafy prize,
Nourishing your form, beneath the sunlit skies.
Matriarch wise, with love unbound,
You lead your herd, on sacred, ancient ground.
Oh, Elephant, guardian of the plains,
Your ears, like maps, etched with wisdom's gains.
You listen to the whispers of the earth,
Guiding your steps, is a testament to your worth.
But shadows lurk, a darkness cast afar,
Where greed and folly wage a callous war.
Forests recede, and poachers stalk the night,
Threatening your future, with a consuming blight.
Let us stand tall, and raise a voice so strong,
To shield these giants, where they rightfully belong.
For in their presence, we find our guiding light,
A mirror to our soul, a future ever bright.
So let us cherish them, these titans of the land,
Protecting their haven, with a caring hand.
For in their grandeur, a truth we come to see,
Respect for all creatures, eternally.
Oh, Elephant, may you forever roam,
In lands untamed, your true and sacred home.
A timeless emblem, of strength and majesty,
Forever etched, in Earth's tapestry.
Acid has become our rain
and oceans with mercury do we stain
dioxin lies beneath our ground
in everything toxic materials be found
E-coli is used to alter genes in food
where recombinant DNA is understood
heavy metals do the population addle
as the health industry lose continuing battle
With the law makers do the inhabitants contend
and a wealthy man can the laws amend
documented information on man's pollution
yet nobody seems to have a solution
Programs that show if man were to die
nature herself would repurify
at 300 years would be the retaking
of only a portion of what mankind is making
Desecration upon desecration upon the land
mankind destroys himself with his own hand
no amount of law can change our ways
our own nature fallen since ancient of days
Scientists who study regeneration
pursue this path with great fascination
they know that the body should heal itself
but understand not sin and it's stealth
Deserts now stand where nature did blossom
the amount of the damage is beyond awesome
ground waters filled with pesticide
about it's effects have governments lied
Asbestos and arsenic and lead just a few
adversely affect the body nothing new
tons upon tons of toxins released to our air
and only for wealth do manufacturers care
Seabirds and mammals die from plastic trash
the production of garbage for making of cash
forest and savannahs are being depleted
in soil degradation are crops being seeded
With love for our earth the concerned have their say
but the pursuers of wealth do get their way
the destroyers of earth with God will clash
but this system of things will Jesus dash
sources Gen. 6:11 Eze.9:1-6 Matt. 6:24
Luke 16:13 Revelation 11:18
reading and study of science
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
In Savannah's heart, where wild things play,
A wanderer roamed, lost in a dreamy way.
He searched for wonder, for magic in the air,
And found the Queen, with beauty beyond compare.
Her eyes, like stars, shone bright and fair,
Her touch, like warmth, banished all despair.
The wanderer's heart, once dry and gray,
Now beat with joy, in a brand new way.
But alas, their love was fleeting, brief,
A moment's magic, a lifetime's grief.
The Queen, with heart so pure and kind,
Took the wanderer's heart, and left him blind.
He gazed into the clouds, with tears in his eyes,
And whispered secrets, to the Savannah's sighs.
The wind, it howled, like a mournful sound,
As the wanderer's heart, lay broken, on the ground.
Yet still, he dreams, of the Queen's sweet face,
And searches for her, in a lonely place.
For in her love, he found a fleeting peace,
A moment's joy, that will forever release.
"I Shall A Mighty Hunter Be!"
“I shall a mighty hunter be,
The King of Kills, by God’s decree!
Savannahs always guarantee
a vantage camouflaging me.
I’ll lie in wait with sharpened claws
… until her keys unlock our doors!
My human’s finished many chores,
including patronizing stores
for meals to place inside my bowl.
Meow! Dispense the chicken whole!
Provide the victuals! That’s your goal!
Prepare some veal, pâte´, and sole …
Since after feasts I sleep a lot,
I found myself the perfect spot
to dream of feather wands and plot
to catch that fast, red laser dot!”
- - E. V. Wyler - -
Raise the flag and let it fly high
On every mouth of joy they cry
File unto the street with dance of many styles
This is a special day for a mankind
Raise the sword in the air for the hero
For he conquered in many battles yet without shedding a drop of blood
Three scores and one salutes to the warrior of the desert and forests
For he won his wars beyond the tropics, temperate and savannahs
He is the god that made me
The hand that molded me
The stone that grilled me
The iron that crushed me
Yet the furnace that refined me
Give it to the lion whose roar tamed the beast in me
I love the running waters whose splashes soothe and bath me clean
Blessed be the hands that helped heal my wounds.
He is a brickman who laid me and mount me up
He watched me set, rise and take a shape as I age
He helped correct my mistakes
He's a blessing to me even when he was in rage.
Those rags you wore in the farm as you clear the shrubs
Yet I rocked my sweet conductor style in the city
When the wasp stung and the stumps tore your feet
I cream my "Stella pomade" and laced up my "koko shoe"
I know you flogged me in rage
But the love behind it was never hidden. Just to correct the craze breeding in my rib cage
You list those fine textured hair on you
Just to raise heads fit for crowns _ The Ades.
Yes I know you aren't perfect
But you give your best as human
Yes I know you didn't built mansions
Yet you raised us for the future
You may think you aren't the best
But, when we count our blessings, we count you twice
You are worth more than a million prize
You have our eternal respect
And beyond the graves we vow to love you still
Happy birthday to my beloved father.
Mr. J A Oloye
I love you Dad.
(FM CONCEPTUAL)
Honoured is our kin
fed with a sliver spoon
bred and reared in Elysium.
Swith is he, an ironic typhoean _
(he 'l be)- Our immerse hero..
So will he slump a thousand times
but not like a coward.
I will tirelessly mull over
how long he lives
like a mammoth,
how great he'l emerge like pharaoh..
Tender is his flesh at the crematorium
who shall we laud, for this formidable feast.
Welcome the vulnerable kin,
He who stole our sodden hearts.
Who will eep and give fibs?
He! the "vainglorious conqueror" _
Who will loot and share views?
He!
Who wears the prosperous attire?
He..
who rears the gluttonous martyrs?
He! He! He!
praise him Of great evil and flair.
glorify him Of great evil and fear he spares,
Our sardonic Adonis.
Tied are you to winter's wrappers
Harmattan you say is for Americanas
in the savannahs.. there you belong
you scoundrel!our disowned manhattanite,
we your kindreds heart you
'road model' for we yonder ones.
You undo and sojourn
we still value you
We pray you live longer
We pray you age agelessly
And work tirelessly
like a wall clock
When there is nothing left to seek
You know you have attained your peak
Then, pray to be like these carcasses
who takes nothing to heaven _But
good deeds that trades them paradise
away from hell fortressed from yeh
I praise you hence
Turn a new ...
Get a new lease on life
These vast plains of steadfast savannahs
Haunt me joyfully with the silent hissing tune
Of the setting sun, smiling at the
Sashaying clouds of low skies, and ogling select woods.
The earth is brown here (snuff-brown, I insist),
And with the courage of humble humus soil
Into whose fecund wombs the fattest disciples of yam —
Each tuber a testimony to nutritious creation —are nursed.
Need I guess correctly the mating time of sorghum — in the rains
Or in droughts?
Millets keep decent trysts with their kind,
Aping the pullulation of scattered corn, tomatoes and cactus,
And peripatetic weeds, and all other refractory modules of tillage.
Anointing breeze is wafted by the league of seasons,
The illustration of grazing cattle, and singed
Hirsute peaks of knolls near totems hoisted by
Ancestral masters —on foot and on teething caravans.
The pasture, gold-trimmed, reaches the edge of the world,
And glitters with the power of mirage.
Within you, you belabour the point of nostalgia for mind’s
Aging peace fluttering in the distance, a faint, glistening ray greasing
The elbows of noontime.
Large, mourning boulders jilted by jealous streams serve as tour guides,
Deflecting pirouetting spectrums that harass the eyes as you ascend northwards . . . .
Welcome, Rover!
This is Northern Nigeria,
The foothill of God.
Did you see the showman,
His act a lion he outran!
Let me tell you how it all began,
When in youth he lived in a van.
Where the lion hunted,
For food it was confronted.
A sad tale it resulted,
In the feast being plundered.
Do you understand now?
He was the lions crown,
A cub which is how,
He grew up and- ow!
Was there no child here?
Just a starved lion I hear,
But didn't lion disappear?
The story is unclear.
So anyway- the lion died,
And vultures circled its blight,
Ripped a gap so wide,
To eat its inside!
They all became lions in time,
For they ate the spirit sublime,
And became not a mime,
No, no, it was the perfect crime!
Understand now? Its a vulture!
What? "Not in your culture"?
But it smells of sulfur.
I am not being vulgar!
What do you know about lions?
Widen your tiny horizons,
Lions kill and are suppliers,
Vultures the shy ones, they're liars!
You see they made it up!
The savannahs not corrupt,
It's rotten,- dont interrupt!
Put lion, vulture in a cup
Mix it good and well,
And you have a human to sell!
Does showman ring a bell?
Secret ingredient? Not gazelle!
But there is one, you are right,
Its of which they lose sight,
The rattlesnake hiding in the night,
Silent and deadly, about to take a bite!
I'm not lying! Would you though?
Befriend him with pet snake in tow?
No?
Thats why it's kept on the down low.
Now that you know,
Though,
Would you give him the deadly blow?
Or watch the reptile grow?
What do you mean I'm insane?
These questions arent inane,
We're debating a show, so plain,
About a man in pain!
The lion was the van,
The lion he outran,
And starved did the man,
What do you not understand?
I see, I see, you don't get it,
Too many plotholes to fit,
So allow me to permit
A secret I'll admit
The lions the favourite they say,
They want more but it went away,
Wanna know why it didnt stay?
It is I who wrote the play!
Now treat that bite with spray, yea?