Short Molt Poems

trees molt --
an acorn is covered
in darkness...

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fresh molt of the snake
at the edge of forest path
my old shoes still snug...

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Drifting on
The blustery winds,
A molt feather
From an Angel
Preening her
Downy wings....

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Molting in falls breeze
Old oak s feathered canopy
Colorful feather leaves
 


By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX...

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A molt of white robe 
                                       Cold blade plunges into shame
                                             Crimson flower blooms...

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Mother
As ancient time is not anxious
Of humanities youthful squabbling
You permitted my discourse
Allowing for the conclusion
(Mothers are wonderful in that way)
all the while operating 
under the assumption
that serpents molt and
trees shed leaves to grow...

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Mother

As ancient time is not anxious
Of humanities youthful squabbling
You permitted my discourse
Allowing for the conclusion
(Mothers are wonderful in that way)
all the while operating 
under the assumption
that serpents molt and
trees shed leaves to grow...

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snowflakes, fragile tufts of downy fluff  
tumble ever so gently from the heavens
blown off the wings of angels
by Winter's cool breath
as feathers of virgin white molt
and confetti the sky
with crystals of ice


(Word Vision)
Nov. 25, 2018
Word Vision Poetry IV Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Vermillion Scythe...

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Sheiks and Sultans kingdom's revolt
Citizens ire and fervour a shocking jolt
Unleashing coffers, promising change they molt
While cleansing their streets with rifle and Colt

Western pots fizzle and stew
Chafing but swallowing the spicy brew
Heartburn follows; the potion they slowly chew
The side effects their sensitive systems do rue...

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.

       Essentially noble
 mine honorable  resolve
        became moot
 when hern shared mine
              lewd

    for my desire of her
             snips
            to molt
for mine eyne to sustain
       hern glabrous

             Yesss
    the turgid affinity
     of the succulent
          nectarine

             yesss

           bursting
      betraying mute...

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NEUTRAL COLOURS

Special species in speeches,

Thronging the long lawn.

Chameleon:echelon of neutrality.

Pavillion:bullion of activities.

Springtime:symbol of productivities.

Humans abound around,

The globe for abode.

Different but not,

Inference for lot.

Global creed of love,

Total rid of war.

Loot the line-cross,

Pool the fire-molt.

 

ADEOLA YUSUF AMUNI...

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Vipera Berus

As friend and foe,
sidewinding spinster,
you crept into my bed.
 
I should have known,
Vipera Berus,
that soon you would need fed.
 
Snake charmer, 
with your song of disarmour
You latched unto my skin.
 
Merry Medusa,
molt your hide and
show your mortal sin.

Satan serpent
harbour incarnate.
I saw this in a dream.

Saltwater Snake
Wading impatient
afore luring me downstream....

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These big mother mayflies
spend larval lives in mud
eating detrital crud,
then molt and take to skies
to mate, lay eggs and die
hand on to newer blood.

Freedom's brief days  passed
water phase starts anew
next cycle to accrue.
From time's undying past
through eons  have they last,
each generation true.

Delectable to trout,
match the hatch or you're out.



Inspired by John Gerrach's Sex, Death and Flyfishing...

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Should early morning sunrise skip
A day or two and nighttime stars
All disappear from view, would you
Be there to hold my quaking hand?
When cherubic celestial wings
Begin their white, feathery molt
And fall to earth as virgin snow
Will you be down below with me
To warm and tender through the storm?
If all laughter turned to sadness
And music sounds on Mans deaf ears
Will we ever hear our laughter
Once the teary, tidal waves’
Incursion floods our precious shore?...

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A molt of starlight on new snow
white slough over black drenched fields.

A window captures it all as a freeze-frame.
Glass reflects and takes my picture
through an eyeless lens.

Behind me, a log fire cracks and chirps
in the language of firebirds.
The room chirrs warmly like a fiddle in a ghost camp.
The cabins foundations are structured hollows.
it breaths through its long bones.

I turn to look at where I live, see only the past looking back,
I dwell within a camera....

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