Mottled Water Snake
winds through the turpid, foul pond.
Look! A fresh minnow!
Winner 9th Place: 1461 Brian Strand (4/9/26)
The mottled sunlight glistens
As the bush cacophony listens
To the passionate sighs of lovers
Intertwined not wanting any others
We are together as one
As lovers we have just begun
Promises I will make to you
Always made to follow through.
© Paul Warren Poetry
optimistic dawn
blue and golden mottled clouds
fill with joy feeling
Into A Mottled Shade I Sought My Rest
Into a mottled shade I sought my rest
As I trekked into my favorite woods.
There I was but an uninvited guest
Seeking Nature's truth, not man's falsehoods!
Walking upon an ancient forest floor
Among towering oaks and ancient beech
Always with joy, seeking very much more
And knowledge that my longing soul will teach.
Streams flowing over soft green, mossy rocks
All about evidence of time's slow creep
Here no need for rushing schedules or clocks
As we can commune with Nature so deep!
Beautiful trees swaying with a soft wind.
And I, yet again, find my ancient friend!
Robert J. Lindley, 12-20-2015
Note: Nature sonnet , perfect 100 word count and
ten syllable verses.
From memory of my last sojourn into my favorite
old growth forest.
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables
Into A Mottled Shade I Sought My Rest
Into a mottled shade I sought my rest
As I trekked into my favorite woods.
Here I was but an uninvited guest
Adoring Nature's truth, not man's falsehoods!
Walking upon an ancient forest floor
Among towering oaks and ancient beech
Always with joy, seeking very much more
And knowledge that my longing soul will teach.
Stream flowing over soft green, mossy rocks
All about evidence of time's slow creep
Here no need for rushing schedules or clocks
As I can commune with Nature so deep!
Beautiful trees swaying with a soft wind.
And I, yet again find my ancient friend!
Robert J. Lindley, 12-20-2015
Note: Nature sonnet , perfect 100 word count and
ten syllable verses.
From memory of my last sojourn into my favorite
old growth forest.
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100
A maze of tall ascending fingers pierce the sky
Prominent and conceived as seeds
In someone's fertile mind
Crowded together packed in vertical line
That overshadow the pavement below.
Temples of finance and commerce
Amassed in concrete and reflective glass
As tiny moving dots like ants scurry and hurry below
Metal boxes of all shapes and colours
In the city like a river stop and flow.
A array of stores billboards and eye catching signs
Forming linear line
The pavement wet with rain makes them shine.
The hustle and bustle of traffic
Horns And police sirens make a awful din
But just normal and ignored by the residents and crowds
That tread the pavement and reside within
The collage of busy hectic city life
For the lucky and affluent a shoppers paradise
But for the homeless sleeping rough
On the cold concrete
Life is tough.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.
Mottled grey knitted top
Little pink mini-skirt
Kick off your heels
We kick it off
Warm breath on my chest
My arm is dead
Kiss on your hair
I kiss it on
Fluttered lash and morning smile
Kiss off and kick on
Into the mottled grey day
Midnight,
Looking everywhere and going nowhere.
I hide my feelings between doubt and bravado,
testing the water before trying to walk on it.
Finding a dozen reasons why I should or
shouldn’t, could or couldn’t, would or wouldn’t.
Finally in desperation, I fling myself headlong into the fray.
Did I do it? Did I make it?
Then I begin all over again, although
I see my feet are wet.
© Apr 13 2011 CGH
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