Short Tufted Poems

Lynx
Hears well,
His ears are
Tufted and sharp;
Lynx.
...

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Sunrise over high rock.
Granit faced, a cliff edge
slides into the light.
Shadowy mountain sheep leap

landing surefooted
upon green tufted clouds....

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Sunrise over high rock.
Granit faced, a cliff edge
slides into the light.
Shadowy mountain sheep leap

landing surefooted
upon green tufted clouds....

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A quiver of wild dogs’ tails tufted 
                               White pompoms thrill in bloodied air
                                      Below, hapless prey prays...

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titmouse
endures winters
delightful cheery call
spotted hiding sunflower seeds
crested

2/5/2020

Contest: Modern or traditional cinquain

Sponsor: William Kekaula...

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Lithium keeps me current
On river raft sans torrent
Dreaming by cloud tufted sky
Scoring rustic lullaby
Hands caressing cool water 
Passing coarse cliffs which totter
Lithium keeps me current...

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Man on Stone Island

Cars whiz by
as ragged, tufted 
man on stone island
carries his sign,
"hungry"
"homeless"
he has written
on the cardboard;
cars whiz by....

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All these little pale pink piggies
prancing through their straw floored pen
sniffing and snorting
with little smiles under their snouts!
Tufted, tiny tails bouncing in the air!
Sharp, dark, twinkle eyes!
Oh, can I love bacon looking
at these wee faces?!...

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a blue jay perches
feeding on frozen berries~
head tufted with snow


12/13/19


Writing Challenge, December - Winter Haiku or Senryu

Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode


12/29/19 Submitted to: STRAND SPECIAL 11,any form ,any theme' Poetry Contest...

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crisp wind dips low…
     trembling on hammock 
  of rosette sky

     along vast dome…
  feathery air ripples
        like scalloped leaves

 winged azure glints…
     lifting tufted veil
 in autumn’s dance




SKAT's Contest: October Sky
8/25/2015...

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Soaring high it flies 
Spring is here it cries
Sound radiates the air
Bringing smiles to all
one brown bird so small
Sings hovering way up there

Way up in the clouds
Hangs in space so proud
Whilst observing way down low
A safe place to nest
Tufted grass is best
Where there are seeds, insects, now


Penned 18 July 2014...

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Cheeva; cheeva; cheeva.fer-da; fer-da; fer-da here; here; here peter-peter-peter.             -	Tufted Titmouse’s call

Sing a song
Way is long
Miles to go
Smile along.

Bare the soul
No, no foul
Be free to go
It’s a long haul.

Worry not for words
Listen to sweet birds
Now you know
Love is not words.

Today is best
Until the rest
Hope you know
To live with zest.
...

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so, the chicken
 came first
with an inventive burst

no wonder it can't happen backwards
the law of physics would surrender

the concept as beautiful as new weather
and fluffy tufted  pink flamingo feathers

time and space travels only forward
no reason though, not to travel backwards

yet, God gives us a pink paradise
like pink roses he is so concise!

Pinks calm caring hues
a look on world views...

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A sea of seething, frothing sky
Condensed, concluded by the night
No point of reference, and no self
Can lie undrowned in these soul-wells

A faded light
Yet fades from sight
Is lost within the self-same rain of sky
The misty veil that shrouds all earth tonight

The sea of tufted, densed elixir
Floats beneath me as I see
The earth now fade forever from my sight
As I rise, and rise both from and into night...

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Through frosted, fall night window panes,
a darkened shape in a pine tree,
an owl tall, tufted, stately,
listening for scurrying prey.

Gliding down, slow, whisper-quiet,
mouse stands out on the dusted leaves,
talons grab hold, down comes the beak...
I am lucky to have espied it.

Flaps back hard for the midnight pines,
with one quick bolt it’s had a feed,
regains its perch, at the ready
to stalk the shadows of night times....

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Showers gag the trees,
May shuttles pleats in the sky.
There are towel-drying winds.
Parks grow soggy with small dogs;

May is an old man riding a bike backwards.
It is oil for the broken engine in the barn.
Wetness folds this way and that.
We see nestlings in reservoirs of dew.

Bubbles pop in puddles,
could it be new Life? 
Could it be May, hands in its pockets
like a small boy, whistling and waiting
for something green 
and tufted to happen?...

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A low wind
prowls like a tiger in the long reeds.
Water rats race across a brook
creating arrowheads 
through the stream.

From a tufted hillock
I watch small fish darting,
chasing edibles
too small for eyes to see.

The fish have no name
that I can recall.
For an instant
I too am nameless,
both lost and found.

Now the wind tugs at my coat,
dragonfly-wings flicker-by –

an iridescent perception
that glimpses only itself,
a presence that is both found 
and lost.

...

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In the Shade of Half Eclipse

Silence…………………………………………….

Portent breathing

Light diffuse 
Scattering bird song

Silence……………………………………………

Indrawn momentum
She held
 
Prophecy by hands cling 
To premonition

Light fading
Dispersal of half moon shadow
Reaped by tufted grass

So hushed………………………………………..

Encumbered by trepidation
Shade deepening

Held by half eclipse
Nature freed by expectations darkness

Half moon shadow
Half moon light

Unveiled the fairy land...

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