Short Cockerel Poems

old cradle rocks fern trees
open knees cockerel bends
miss placed rugby shoes...

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natures alarm clock
heralds the start of daybreak ~
a cockerel crows 


Written 27 th April 2020...

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stentor of the dawn
shatters drowsy morning sky ~
time to seize the day

27.04.20

Morning Praise Poetry Contest ~ Sponsored by: Raul Moreno...

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rooster wakes the dawn
sound of hens fluttering wings
tender grass springs out 
 


 4/25/2020


Poetry Contest: Morning Praise 
Sponsored by: Raul Moreno...

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I rise not for the crowing of the cockerel close on by,
But for the beckoning rapture of the eagle's cry,
As he stirs my whole soul from the freedom of the sky......

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Cockerel talk again
Raging debate about the hour

A metallic crackle, that familiar hiss
And once again a ceramic kiss

As dawn cleans the slate of night
Yesterdays dishes belong in the sink

Truth comes at first light....

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A farmer fancied some chicken for dinner
A fat cockerel he spied sure was a winner
He sharpened his knife
To end cockerels life
Cockerel wished that he'd been a bit thinner.



Inspired by Jan Allisons poem   Cluck Off...

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The sperm and ovaries reign supreme,
In that "What came first" eggy scene.
Without a cockerel and a hen,
Eggs would not be known to men.
It is true, it may be false
We still have the debate, of course.
What came first, the ovary,
Or the sperm, don't ask me....

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Tottenham had no spine today
Often blitzed, without apparent apparel 
Maybe too many stogie's behind the training shed
Figures of lampoon
How they fail
in the April of decline
Captain said the performance
was not good enough
The Cockerel has relented to Play
There's no vitality going forward
and the back four, butter by default...

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April
awesome arrival
await always avidly
as augurs amour

 
Betrothed
besotted belle beau
both blossom beautifully
beget baby boy

 
Cherish
crickets chirp constant
cockerel clarion call
can calm crying child

Written 27/07/2020
2nd placement
Let the pens flow -Alliteration poetry contest
Sponsor Jenish Somadas...

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Strutting a glowing plumage;
.        The cockerel stood akimbo,
     Lord of the manor, realm in view,
          All the hens rambunctious,
       As unease pervades the realm,
          Skirmishes here and there.
 Lo, above the sky a marauding crow, swooping,
           Swooping and picking a hen,
           In the realm of the cockerel,
.       For a meal, a meal fit for a crow....

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The cock has crow 
after so many fuse of pure grains 
it grows above the eagle claw, off the restless shore 
picking pin in the mud 
to see the cockerel grow 

cock-a-doodle-doo, the cock crows 
off the mother hen that cluck out 
at the sight of stronger keen sighted 
to her apron lies the cart 
after sobbingly to the cadence of moo 
ushering in babble of joy 
in the midst of two 
your eyes saw it through, 
through the dirty, war front....

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early morning sun
a brand new day is dawning
hear
the cockerel crow

sun beams from heaven 
with uplifting mellowness 
they 
brighten up our world 

scorching hot sunshine
summer has arrived at last
eat
cooling ice cream cones

beautiful sunset
spectacular orange sky
soon
darkness will descend

(N contest  rule 5 7 5 haiku with one additional word)

Contest Split Haiku Sponsored by Mystic Rose
04~03~16...

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an acre of land
our very own smallholding
father scythes long grass

rows of potatoes
green runner beans, sweet carrots
mother bakes fresh bread

huge laundry baskets
filled with ripe red strawberries
small hands were stained red

a goat and two pigs
chickens and a cockerel
our morning alarm

perched upon a stool
I learn to do the milking
owl hoots in ash tree

Garden Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Dear Heart

06/10/20...

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NEW   DAY


From night’s heavy load
sometimes  you wake up 
-  a  jaunty bird   
-  leaping, wing-bearing  
-  a  cockerel ready for action 
-  a self-compressed spring  
-  a cocked pistol ready  to explode  - 
you want to live and to work

------but it resolves by breakfast. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………
Note
     
This is my (inadequate) translation from the original                                    
work of Russian  poet   Igor  Guberman....

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A staged presence, and we your crowd
You, a strutting cockerel proud
This but an act nearing the end
We dull creatures suitably cowed

Your voice a gentle thunder cloud
Lights dimming over rows you've plowed
Hide from the spotlight, lies avenged
A staged presence

Your recitations growing loud
Frantic pacing, your will unbowed
Lean on costars as their best fiend
Disappear as curtains descend
Face made up, your burial shroud
A staged presence

-----------------
Trying a new form tonight...

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