In antler duel
to the death do them apart
echo in mountains
the kingdom of the red deer
roaring in the autumn night
11.11.2022
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
~ Poem of the Day 12.11.2022 ~
dear red deer, all-clear
orange forest, rustic chill
autumn sunrise smiled...
The Dune on the Rock
where fine grains of time
gradually slip
revealing footprints
of lost vertebrates:
an archaic
human being -
Neanderthal;
red deer, aurochs
elephants
and ibex…
crumbling sand
unveils
extinct
past
------------------------------
Contest: Pick a Title Vol 12
Diminished Hexaverse
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title: Gibraltar Crumbling
19th December 2019
These are the moments we live for.
The shake and stir of the wild growing furze,
Red kites blazing over high pines, hares sparking beneath,
And hooves striking the shells from the sand.
The Hill grows blue with afternoon storms,
Rain passes over us, rushed and riding out to sea,
And the black-faced lambs curl softly in the grass.
A flood of new bruising skies cluster in the trees,
Reins of Northern light collapse and waver secretly,
No other eyes alive are seeing what we see.
These are the moments we live for.
The shake and the stir of the wild growing furze,
As one red deer picks through the ferns,
True hart of the Highlands, where I must return.
I came from a land of redneck drinkers, who mounted deer heads on walls without sheetrock. It was a simpler time. You shot or hooked what you ate. A wood stove heated the whole house. It ran on bottled propane when wood was scarce. I can still smell the blackening butter and hear the purple-red deer meat sizzling in Gram’s cast-iron fry pan on that day. I can see the knife gash in the imprint of flowers on the homemade butter. Its beauty marred to lather the pan as mine had been. Each day since then, as I knelt on the chair staring past the potted violets toward the house next door, I'd shiver.
whispers
breach the bedroom walls:
chain-locked door
I came from a land where, through a picture perfect window, a little girl could see rows of candy-colored gladiola’s growing beside the home of the neighbor boys. The boys whose Father liked to flash his private parts to little girls. No, this was not the end of the yellow brick road, but the land of bullies, beer, and ******** pedophiles, far from picture perfect.
A red deer on a misty hill
Stately among the grass
Listens with ears pricked to the shrill
Sounds of earth; musings pass
Dim smoke flitting in a morass
Dance in the mirror of the mountain pool
And music cool
Quivers and dies along the highland, alas!
The music light, elusive as the dawn
On the wind's breath borne
Blended and lost where tawny waters flow
Gone, gone
Into cold air, echoing where ?
The mind becomes still
And no-one knows
But a red deer on a misty hill
Where the stubble grass blows.
Contest: Words--The Heart Of Imagination
The iridescent raven perched upon pilings
By just one lake in Friesland's beautiful wetland outings
His golden beak and orange legs with claws set off
Against black feathers that glisten and are a rain runoff
Carefully he watches the Edelhert fawn play
At the edge of the lake, close to woods, where he lives all day
He had seen the das at dusk as he watched them all
His duty as the lookout to warn them against harm's fall
Against the vas that sly thief, who comes in the night
When all sleep, even for the watchman death could be his plight
Some Of The Wildlife In The Netherlands
Edelhert:Red Deer
Das:Badger
Vas:Fox
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest: Your Ode To "My"Netherlands And/Or "My Friesland"
Written: April 22, 2014
Imagination
Pre down borealis that had flashed through
the dark blue night sky had disappeared .
A light at the ridge a few stray sunrays lit
up the valley and the mist of mystery was
slowly dissipating, in the clearing I saw
a flock of wisents and a few red deer.
The animals stood still as listening for a sign
or a message of some kind.
A twig of an oak broke it sounded
like rifle shot but the beasts knew better
and began grazing.
Animals of the grassland had retreated
man had taken over ploughing the fertile soil
into fields of wheat.
It was day now and pearls on leaves dried.
When the mammals saw me they quickly,
as shadows of the unseen, vanished
into a landscape of dreams.
Dear Santa,
I’m writing to you just like every year
Always been good since the last time
You brought me gifts on your red deer
I left you no milk but some sweet lime
Do forgive me for this funny mistake
But I’m sure you loved the cheesecake
I don’t want a Barbie doll under my tree
Seeing I’m now grown to own a perfume
But I’m not asking for that or a new birdie
All I want this year is for a bridegroom
For cruel Miss Betsy living near the lake
So she can be nice to kids like small Jake
Hope my wishes are not getting too much
Since I still have some more things to ask
For the old lady at the gate of our church
Always carrying that broken yellow flask
Please send her some pretty shiny roses
So they could brighten her dirty blouses
I know I didn’t write something for myself
Because my wishes came true very early
You sent them through your little green elf
Who came together with a cute pink fairy
So my letter is for many living around me
That their Season be full of so much glee
Spring came back today
With sunshine and sliver clouds
Over the forest's frindge
Red deer celebrate the day
Grazing on shiny fresh green
The spruce tree
Cries out loud
Through the
Maple clouds,
A red deer
Just died in
Her arms
Mighty
mammoths roaming
with dramatic red deer-
paleopathological
cartoons.
Across the River, West 'tis that
at the cliffs & clefts of Victoria above
blackish waters slick as Legislation, of Verrazzano
& not-so-merried ferries, the promontory sits of
visage, resplendented of red deer & red bear &
white Eagles' scat from Lady Liberty!
Why, in the glare of where, opossum
& red squirrel, vied in-passioned
imposters of small virtue in deed
sought, wrought of purloin
for some vertu & bijouterie
for Manhattan!
(The Chief Islander) - so the Mythic goes!
But hey!, it's up-on the BigScreen, now
playin' @ The Bijou, & in the dutri-plexes
& plexes of plexiglasse &
MegaPlexes of Tribeca, in the Tri-boros+2...
Avaunt! Above Verrazzano visage
tramontane, there! the Filth & Flair
of City fare, miasma which got us into
insouciant Dutch!
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