Short Dines Poems

Mother and goshlings
Canadian geese on lake
Alligator dines...

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an intrusion of roaches
dines nightly on rice
i see only by daylight...

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Knock, knock ... who is there?
No winds rattle, no rains tap ...
A woodpecker dines...

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Cat sunbathes at noon
And dines on dinner at six
By moonlight she sleeps

January 8,2021...

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male goldfinch eats seeds
free for him at the feeder...
summer's mate dines last...

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 two red rose blossoms
announce summer with brightness...
blue jay dines on aphids ...

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Large Moose
Big rack sleek lines
Elegant slow movements
Bows his head when on green grass dines
God's gift...

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inchworm moves slowly
touched by fall's recent chilling..
dines on four o'clock   ...

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Husband dines on deviled eggs
That comes from wicked chickens
Potato salad and legs
Somehow this great plot swiftly thickens   ...

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There once was a puppy named Sam
Who refused to eat nothing but ham
Until his poor mother
Gave birth to another
And now he dines strictly on Spam



Bite Sized Poem #41...

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Crustacean crowds gather around the reef, for a special reunion.

Delicacies abound as the coral dines, along with them.

Dancing anemone, are entertainment for the diners....

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you alway save  for a rainy day
listen to what say
things don't alway going as plan
 some must something in the can
 you'll   few dines
to help you carry on
when thing go wrong
as you lay in your bed
think don't sink
and
PLAN AHEAD...

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When you realise 
Man is a many-headed 
Devil, 
That the one who 
Dines with you holds 
An ulterior intent to undo 
You, 
That people are 
A many-seasoned monsters,
That man changes like 
Day and night, 
That's only when no one can 
Deceive you....

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Roots underneath our feet preserve historical days old
War and thunder peace, joy, laughter and love
Collecting all these images in its magical fruit
Shines by sunlight and dines in moon-light
For all the living; to observe its beauty


January 4, 2017...

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An old Mallard dines alone
A memory on the edge of the flock
A weaker yet still viable member
An inattentive sentry
Sifting grey mud
Chasing soggy bread crumbs

The sun warms his weary wings
As the river draws him away

A Great Blue Heron nods G’Day
...

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Out the window a gray gradient forms
Out the window a black cloud storms

In the room a light shines
In the corner a rat dines
In the street a child whines
Below the couch my shoes remain
Across the world a falling rain
In my heart a solemn pain 

Minutes 
to 
go...

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The aardvark is a quirky beast,
Uniquely dentalated,
And to the armadillo gastronomically related.
He dines on termites, ants, and such,
Most any bug his tongue can touch,
On fruits and veggies, not so much,
Unless he's running low on Vitamin C…
Or needs to be re-regulated....

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She stays in my lines
In my bars she dines
For my pen spits my love
She's my poetry, all and above
But like leaves scattered by gust
My words to her rarely last
For she sees no further than her brows
She reads but hardly knows
That she is the poetry in the ink
The image behind my every blink....

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Springtime greenness life release 
Bluebonnets grow high 
Sweetness entanglement tastes 
Kiss on purple sky

Yesterday’s bloom colors fade 
Tailored vision dines 
Seeds rising to magical 
Bath liquid sunshine 


© 4/21/2015
 Andrea Dietrich's poetry form The 7/5 Trochee with Rhyme Scheme a/b/c/b**...

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A weird old woman loved cats
And outlandish broad-rimmed hats
Why should we think it odd
The old dame is quite mod,
Why she even dines with her bats.


written, Winter 1972
edited June 29, 2021
[first published in The Hoosier Challenger, 1972;
republished in By-Line, Summer, 1989]...

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Snow swirling in winter air
birds take to crabapple tree in limbs
shaking the fruit everywhere

Red now spread upon blanket of white
still none view the snowcat in sight
carefully she creeps through that blanket of white

Yet her purr becomes disturbing this night
Just in time -- the birds take flight
Whilst bidding the snowcat a hearty -- Good-Bye...

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Marie Catwonette said “let them eat cake”
She has no concept for goodness sake
That some cats scrimp and claw and fight
For alley scraps, which is their right.

Marie Catwonette was born with a golden spoon
In a warm bed of feathers, against an autumn moon
She dines on tuna fish sandwiches and such.
Wondering not about about others who don’t have much....

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Who on God reclines
Worldly offers declines:
To the scripture inclines
Noting the sharp lines 
Between Gods and gods;
Though both sides wield rods;
From worshipers nods:
The latter mere pods,
Things to smoke like cods
Or just kick with leg
And refuse to beg...

Who an God reclines
Only dines and wines
From Lord God's rich mines...

This, forever, signs...

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I've refused to quite believe it
The first thing I'll cast into pit:
A man keeping a grace feline,
Whereas he quaffs a lot of wine;
Better than all of us name signs,
Fine Table Manners as he dines;
In the streets makes no careless call,
Steady strides while The Sober fall.

Keep I shall taxing my poor wit:
An endless search for answers fit...

Until then, to God the Glory:
Let Him this surprise make hoary....

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The rich man sups his Cognac
As he sits and relaxes
Complaining in his mind about
The level of his taxes,
Congratulates himself 
On the amounts
Secreted away in
Offshore Accounts,
Wines and dines his Advisor
Just to show his thanks.
The poor man shows his gratitude 
For his local Food Banks.
Both profess Christianity
Which seems an oxymoron
Or are the Camel and eye of needle
Out of date and long forgotten....

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