Sedges Poems | Examples

Song of The Red-Tailed Hawk No 10: AABB

Less than eighty, now ... they're, unaccounted.
'Tis sad ... NEXT: the hawk hovered that founded
fresh sedges, grasslands, and deserts idyll,
God in the detail, Red-Tailed Hawk sidle,
Blitzkrieg mob by crows, females sized greater,
social-less wingers, life mono-mater,
dives one hundred twenty miles per hour,
kills owl young BOTH nesting competitor,
Prey spotted one hundred feet in the air,
Their eyesight to man, seven times finer,
Two feet, two pounds, twenty-one years lifespan,
Roadkill, hunting, and human expansion,
Diet: various birds, and small rodents,
Scrub deserts, farm fields, rainforests, woodlands.

The Hungry Eagle

Soaring and swaying over craggy hills
How I long to be the mighty eagle.
Best when my strong wings stretch
And gliding, searching for food
To feed the  miniscule fledglings.


After verdant resurrection, green leaves 
Come to life, yet birds hide from
His majestic lofty strong eagle.
Pity the small ones could not stop
Their mellifluous lark-like songs.	

Unfortunately small rodents are short sighted.
Along the placid lake rodents friskily run 
In and out of the sedges. Food is now near.

Rebirth

Spring is imminent,
but the salt marshes 
are not aware, for
the air is cold and drear.
Patchwork of tan and gray
stretches toward the sea,
cattails and reeds bend east
in a still chilly wind.

Bayberry and rosa rugosa,
blackened as if by fire,
huddle together, backdrop
for frost bitten sedges
decorated here and there
with shiny spills, silver pools
left by the last high tide,
reflecting the emptiness
of a white winter light.

And still the marshes sleep,
waiting for a length of days
warmed by a stronger sun
to stir them from their long nap,
for juices to flow into  
stiff, arthritic stems,
for leaves to branch out,
filling the marshes again
with a hundred shades of green
and buds of latent flowers.

Once again the process begins,
The unending work of rebirth.

Willard Creek

On Willard Creek, a marsh does lay, 
upon a soft soliloquy of a dormant day...

The moss medusa within her array,
spreads a garden green for our display...

The water lilies conveniently convey, 
as the toads watch their passive prey...

Where butterflies boast their ballet, 
as sunshine seduces the swampy bay...

Watching rushes, shrubs and sedges grow,
at the edge where rivers flow...

Tempered turtles hiding in their burrow, 
as snakes slither in the meadow...

Wading birds chirp on their chateau, 
the insects crawl from their embryo...

All is calm amidst the snarling slow,
and spiders spread their webby row...

The Willow wallows as to weep, 
and her branches bundle reaching steep...

Beautiful butterflies earn their keep, 
as they slumber within their sweep…

The feisty fireflies flock like sheep,
as the crickets cradle before they creep...

All this theatre before they sleep,
marshes, and butterflies for all they reap.


____________________________________________



July.03.2020
butter flies and marshes mellow
Sponsored by~ Kai Michael Neumann 

Placed 7'th...Thank You

The Windy Month of March

The Windy Month of March

Along the road I strolled
With my bonny Chlo
As cheerful as a lark
In the windy month of March,
When the wind doffed
My bunnet off.

Down the Brae I dashed
Whilst my Chloe did laugh
As I chased the cap
Across the Haugh
With old Sol brimming
Warmth upon our being.

Underfoot of strides,
Upon grasses and sedges I tramped,
Past daffodil blooms and thistle pricks
And briars in the heath,
And when I reached to grab the brim,
The wind would blow it away again.

We were happy as plums under the sun,
Me and my Chloe walking along
With hands embraced.
“She’s my lass,” I’d proudly say
On an otherwise perfect day
Until the wind blew my bunnet away.

Finally, the wind quit,
And I retrieved my bunnet
Whilst my Chloe had the fits
To see upon my head it sits,
Stretched o’er my ears, stiff as starch
In the windy month of March.

The Background

A majesty up amidst the spring cold,
I watch and see the high meadow unfold,
springtime sedges, all vibrant, green, and new,
bleached gray rock, from when the glaciers passed through,
a high lake, so blue it practically gleams,
mirror-smooth surface reflects alpine scenes,
rock peaks rising, jagged to the eye,
an ancient sea-floor, thrown up to the sky,
stone laid down slanted, like a layer cake,
talus slopes plunge where the big rocks did break,
trees rise below, conifers, mostly spruce,
scattering of flowers, red, yellow, and blue,
stare at a vision I am loathe to disturb...
but it's just the background on my computer.

...sigh...back to work...

Silence of the Butterflies

As sunrise silently
marinaded morningtide meadows,
our lips flowed like two streams,
merging within an exclusive estuary

so we set home upon the river bed.

At first we floated like butterflies in Babylon,
deaf to the squawks of mercenary crows,
blind to the creeping weeds,
which wandered amongst delicate petals

nor did I notice our submerging embankment.

As our estuary began to evaporate,
you left me stranded in the silt and mud.
My heart, once a blossoming garden,
evolved into a wasteland of sedges and sludge.

Still I wait for soothing streams to return,
but all I am left with is marshland of regret

and the silence of the butterflies.

Pond Life At Sunset

Another day’s daylight is fading,
and the evening sunset is red;
in the pond at the end of the garden,
mating calls are starting to spread.

There’s a chorus of croaking and growling
from the suitors attracting a mate. 
The pond is a constant of ripples,
that dueling does tend to create.

Green heads are held out of water;
throats bubble on a lily pad,
but while attention’s diverted, 
a visitor appears mighty glad.

Among sedges, grasses and bulrush,
a fork tongue is flicking for heat,
where all that he senses is dinner,
and frogs make a wonderful treat.

The spikes on the sedges are beds,
for the night of the dragonfly,
and a blue heron finishes feeding,
for the branch of a gum tree up high. 

Pigmy Perch are quite relieved,
for they are the predators now,
mosquito wrigglers are lessened,
but many do survive somehow.

The pond is a home for so many,
but balance is struck keenly fine,
between plants, predators, and prey, 
with the need for them all to combine.

Another day’s daylight is fading,
and the evening sunset is red;
shadow quickly covers the land,
and stars put the pond life to bed.

Anthology of Haiku

 Canadian geese
black cheeked... brown...  white tipped feathers
stormy ocean waves 

barnacle geese
hibernate as barnacles
for some... once a thought

starlings murmurate
whispers of countless wings
safty in numbers

hark a bittern booms
invites new life to explode
sedges obliging

quack... quack... quack quack... quack...
mallard ducks enjoying life
frustrated angler

coconut... blue tit
symbiotic  winter pairs
autumn time... fresh pares

a bee... wasp mimics
flower flies... a hummingbird
natures macro bling

ostriches... big birds
they'll disappear if threatened
M of P mimics

Complex Alliteration - Hastily Hiding Wisely Waiting

HASTILY HIDING WISELY WAITING
Flying fish are really gliding, gracefully so.
Frantically, from so many predatory piranhas.
Silkily, sliding into the most fearsome fray!
Hastily hiding, in very thick growing, sightly sedges.
Wisely waiting until the predators pass.
Satisfyingly safe, start to safely fly feeding.
Dusk darkening, welcoming much needed silent sleep.
----------------------------------------------------------
 UNSUPPORTED CODE FORMAT UNSUPPORTED CODE 
1st line- x syllables 13
2nd line- x+2 syllables 15
3rd line- x-1 syllables 12
4th line- (x+2)-1 syllables 14
5th line- x-2 syllables 11
6th line- (x+2)-2 syllables 13
7th line- x syllables 13

Which allows for infinite syllable sequences. An example, in the first line x=13:

Wordscapes

One mountain after another
The green jagged edges
Puffy clouds hither and thither
Cloud around the sedges

Clouds make love with high peaks
Holding our gaze in awe
While the lips the mountain-top seeks
Wind blows and clouds withdraw

Clouds are somewhat promiscuous
Now they love the hill tops
Soon they feel it monotonous
And shift to thick green locks

The hills are lost in lovely thoughts
Rhododendrons are nice
We try to find their lovely plots
Drizzle and congealed ice

Blue thrush sings you whistling
You feel relaxed like sky
You draw fragrance deeply smelling
The musk rose laughs close by

Suddenly lands a roaring sound
Filling the nearby air
Very soon all the silence drowned
River descending there

Amazingly tall waterfall
Thundering and making us small
_____________________________________________________________
16 August, 2016 : For Contest : Wordscapes : Sponsored by John Hamilton

The concluding two lines  in addition to the stipulated 24 could not be avoided

Marsh

Cattails, sedges, papyrus,  sawgrass
Fish waterfowl soundless salamanders
In soft wet interface of water and earth
      Reclines the orbit of Marsh

Scenes of a Careless Childhood Recited

SCENES OF A CARELESS BOYHOOD

The sound of water,escaping dams
willows,old rotten planks,slimy
posts,brickwork,old timber props
wet ditches,sedges and silvery nets
towpaths without gates,horses that
tow barges collared with crimson fringe.

Wheat and thatched cottages and cornstacks
grasses in flower,bogrush bulrush and
teazle,so tall.Bindweed,wild carrot,
hemlock in bloom,cow parsley,plantain 
bramble in June.
Poppy,thistle mallow
and hop.Purple heath,hills and swift
running streams,true clear freah and
brisk as champagne about to pop.


phrasis form ( From Constable letters to Rev John Fisher)

*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet)  to compile  unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.

Listen to me read this phrasis of mine on youtube under the name ichthys

Not a Freakin' Fairy Village: Ok It's a Fairy Village

With down flying all around,
It all would seem very aster-like to an outsider.
But he was flaunting the sered spirit
To the querulous darkness screaming.
The locust melancholy lullaby
Brings the gention and goldenrod to bed.
While the sedges come to live.
Sprung from the rainfall of my life.

Pathways

Where pathways probe the lonesome place,
And foxes tease with tails to chase;
Rabbits crouch beneath the hedges,
And grey mice play amongst the sedges.

Frogs that squat on rocks in streams,
Croak their songs to pipe their dreams;
While butterflies drift where faeries hide,
And sunbeams dance while shadows died.

Beneath the scented boughs that hang,
To cover hill where bluebells rang;
The lithesome deer with downy fawn,
Flick their tails and now are gone.

A raccoon sits with lonely musing,
Looking with care his food for choosing;
And floating through some jaded dream,
A blue jay squawks her rowdy scream.
                                                    
Along the path where willows weep,
There hides a nest where owls sleep;
And perilous flight of fleet winged swallow,
Chases light within the hollow.

Silken threads that spiders spin,
Gives hope to catch the fly within; 
And squirrels that look with elfin glance,
Perform in trees, their spritely dance.

Across the meadow shadows creep,
Inviting rest, to summon sleep;
And crickets sing their evening song,
To say good bye to a day that's gone.

• Short Sedges Poems
• Famous Sedges Poems
• Best Sedges Poems
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• Long Sedges Poems
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