Short Prairie Grass Poems

The summer breeze moves the Prairie grass
As the waves of the ocean...

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Prairie grass and sage
To the extent of ones eye
Holsteins graze in peace...

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prairie grass swaying

gently to the wind's music 

in step with its beat...

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Through this patch of light,
The monarch butterfly
Holds on tight,
To this single 
Blade of prairie grass,
Using the strength of
Her royal wings
Now, resting 
Between this 
Borderline of
War and peace...

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the wind blows down from the mountains
whipping the prairie grass
the mesquites bend and toss
as it sweeps across
and all the thoughts I thought
I left there by the sea
have found there way back inside,
back inside of me...

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Surrounded by dry prairie grass

Amidst a sea of broken glass

Like metal soldiers dressed in rust

V-8's wear vests of orange dust

And I, when gazing at them there

Get goose bumps raising every hair

Each time, because I swear I see

Dead headlights staring back at me...

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I went where the wind blows,
Cool sod my last bed
Sweet blowin’ winds then laid down in the prairie-grass and the wide orange sky tucks me in.
Not far away a trains-a-howlin’ 
Singin’ me a last lullaby 
Accompanied by the souls of 1,000 rail-road hobos
Crooning their dusty blues....

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Who shall chase 
The golden sun with
Tall prairie grass 
In our hands, 
We chased the sun away, 
As the round yellow star 
Cheeks blush red, and
We hide behind 
The gray-blue clouds
We lost our breath away
We gasped for air
Without despair
This shall be done
If, we chase the sun...

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~

Here I stand
in a lonely field
of prairie grass
and dandelion
watching
faint ribbons
of apricot break
across a weary
horizon

And as I see
the enchanting
beauty of the 
morning sun
embracing the sky,
my heart wishes
I were that sun
and you were
that sky...

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I meander through dreams looking for you
cloaked by darkness, confusion
I traipse through tall prairie grass and dense forest
observing from the shadows within, you wait
soundless, stoic, statuesque
a bird of prey, talons ready
I stumble over your heart's protective tripwire 
and I fall....from dreams to dawn...

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A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye

Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass

An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak - a lifetime of dreams

The changing moon - to full again
Each morn' the sun - new skies begin

Eagles soar high - our hearts go there
These ripples in time - we all share

©Donna Jones...

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Our modern day chorus
Seems sung out of tune
The cacophony of life
Instead of the cry of the loon....

We have so engineered noise
As this world keeps going around
It's easy to loose connection
With the gift of earth's quiet sound....

The call of the prairie  grass
The sigh of the ocean's repeat
Songs of the passing brook
And the sound of our own heart beat........

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At Little Big Horn in the prairie grass
Custer was known as Yellow Hair alas.
  But it was Custer who fell
  and Crazy Horse they tell
was from that day on known as Kickin’ Ass!

The Seventh Cavalry on his command
rode into battle severely outmanned.
  Now at West Point in his class
  they say he finished dead last
but that’s nothin’ compared to his last stand!...

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My eyes on the edge of yesteryear
Feel the breeze on my skin
A feather left behind a whisper

Fate brushing through my long black hair
Under the sun

One afternoon in the night

Alone of my unspoken wish
They for the soul
Still do in dream
Calling out to my own

Lost in the prairie grass

East my head and silent eyes
Call out softly 
I will always love you

But the winds still
Wonder so
For that pray...

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Shining sun and thunderous rain
Bear, bison, and whooping crane

The blowing wind and falling leaves
Blooming bulbs and honey bees

Winter, Summer, Spring and Fall
Hardwood trees growing tall

The rivers great and creeks so deep
The golden crops of summer wheat

Ozark Mountains and prairie grass
Carp, paddlefish, and large mouth bass

Whether waterfall or large rock cliffs
These are a few of the Midwest gifts...

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wheat at its finest.
      long before the cut of blade
and grinding of teeth –

it sings through clear wind –
      rolling waves, soft in their hush
raising old ones souls,

ingraining lifetimes
     upon the wanderer’s skin –
raising hairs on necks –

recognizing sound
      as it is meant to be heard –
wheat is heeded wind.

always, wheat whispers   
     hush…(the heart of prairie grass)
through the mouth of wind....

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my dreams all lay in an open field
mixed with prairie grass and tumbleweed
the heat of the sun beating on them by day
the mountain winds that spread the seeds
where they mushroom into fantasies
fuel for the desert fires to feed

monsoons will come and wash them away
extinguish the fires, cool the heat
one by one they will grow again
nourished anew with the spring rain
to blow and drift like the tumbleweeds
the cycle of dreams start over again...

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Listen to poem:

Foragers of the Prairie Forest
David J Walker

Faith  that the rains will return 
Like faith in the next breath breathed in 
doth befall without thought of 
What it is we are breathing 

An atmosphere 

Devoid of moisture 

A forest of prairie grass

A canopy of the universe in 

Hues of day and stars at night


We are living
We are breathing    
We are surviving 
On a diet of faith that

God hath not forgot the 
Foragers of the prairie forest...

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