Short Rutting Poems
Short Rutting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rutting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rutting by length and keyword.
the hurl
high twirl
a bull
force full
a pic
got sick
missed car
to spar
in state
aimed straight
the hurl
high twirl
lot views
on news
a bull
forceful
a scene
quite keen
granddad
hurt bad
still good
withstood
Lover #1
cherry tree blossoms
sweet scented perfume distilled
your lush fruit revealed
Lover #2
rutting buck rattles
virile stag catches sweet scent
drifts through fertile fronds
nubile does snuggle closer
suitor fondles coy lover
Warm days and cold nights
a clash of bucks rutting wild
snowflakes scent the wind.
Autumn paints the leaves
cascading colors tumble
crimson carpets stone.
Ripe for Halloween
an eery pumpkin patch gleams
the moon glows orange.
Written Oct.21, 2015 for "Autumn Haiku - Poetry Contest".
Dare challenge me?
Then be my guest …
The stags enter into a jousting quest,
No time now for antlers to rest,
The challenger locks his horny crest,
With focused stare and forceful zest,
A testosterone and power fest,
Nature at its Darwinian best.
Into the gene-pool
He wished to invest,
Can he suceed,
Survive this test?
Life, an hourglass,
Where days are sand.
God holds each grain,
In outstretched hand.
We strive to adapt,
To life's ebb and flow.
And each falling grain,
Causes gait to slow.
Often, during aging,
Time is rutting our face.
Even pigment in our hair,
Time will replace.
Such will be life,
Till our last grain falls.
That day cometh,
When the Sand Master calls.
Underclass ; a running box that middles
the center of a (not)living room.
Kidney table; an African girl beams
down into the smoke
an ashtray of burnt souls.
Faces full of thin beer admire
the box lights of the estate,
double binds, grins, hopless rutting.
Far ; the black flat of fields
owls and air, silence.
Like Zen in Her Old Age
Like Zen in her old age,
she moves as calm water
with the slow metabolism
of ancient stones and redwoods.
toiling like the slow rutting
of running water through rocks.
With finger to wrist,
she feels the tide ebb and flow in her pulse,
And within the ice age of an eye blink
she lives through the millennia
moving at the pace
of the slow creep of continents
as she steps back into history.