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Best Poems Written by Lee Dunn

Below are the all-time best Lee Dunn poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Rhapsody In Blue

In the methane blue
of Neptune’s stew
I wildly whip my wind lasso-
a-hunting for the Dragon of the Cloud!

Through icy fleece
I stalk the beast,
a thousand miles an hour at least,
beneath this sapphire atmospheric shroud.

I’m born of wind,
and thickly skinned-
with Neptune’s swirling vortex twinned.
I hurry hard and bellow out aloud!

To catch him fast
and so at last
undo his necromancy past,
and join again the nation of the proud!

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Spring Shall Overcome

Bare of snow and ice we were
In the winter’s dwindling days
And we marked upon the calendar
The season’s changing phase

Eager things poked up their heads
To test the springtime air
Some colour in the flowerbeds
To grace a fairy’s hair

But the sun, it paled, as iron dull
And windy came the cold
And liveliness was in a lull
In the garden’s chilly mold

Bereft of cheery focuses
We sat within the grey
The cruelty of coaxed crocuses
The frost had done away

Diamond rain upon us now
It froze to every tree
Power wires were weighted down
In the darkness we would be

The wind at last abated fast
But the dullness and the cold
Recalled our bones to winters past
And jeered at summer’s gold

Once more there came upon our door
A storm of last betrayal
‘Twas April’s cruelest paramour
‘Twould upon our hearts prevail.

Today, a brightness lit my room
Awaking me from slumber
Gone were clouds of sullen gloom
And there were birds without a number

The layer cake of ice and snow
That covered all the land
Was giving way, as water flowed
Down drains choked up with sand

The sadness of the icicle
As it lost its winter weight
‘Twas dripping on the bicycle
Forgotten by the gate

And me, I felt a little thrill
And the windows I would open
And though there’s still a little chill
The winter’s spell is broken.

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Vedge Bad

I do not like asparagus
That rooty shooty plant
And you won't really care, I guess
About this silly rant
Its stems are pulpy, woody-like
Its tips have tiny spades
That look for all the world, to me,
Like mini hand grenades.

I've tried to cook it many ways
And give it proper lovin'
I've boiled and steamed and creamed and braised
And shrunk it in the oven.
My daddy used to buy it canned
And put it on his toast
I fancied him a true gourmand
And to my friends I'd boast

But, now that I'm a very cook
(I've tried each recipe)
I've tasted all, and by the book,
But it gives me smelly pee.

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The Following

Awoke, did I,
to trap a dream
untrammeled in its art

But hurriedly it lost its gleam,
though I drew it part by part.

How to capture,
how to keep
such singleness of soul?

Such loving rapture,
born of sleep-
'twas one of heaven's foal!

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For the Lost

In fog's night,
there's a shimmer.
A hint of hearth and home.
A muted invitation
to one who walks alone.

Far away from native shore
and succor of the soul.
Harbouring a longing for
the things that make us whole.

Fishing for remembrances
of paintings in the mind,
but finding only semblances
in images unkind.

And now they come, in elder times,
these showings of a land.
So often gleaned from ancient rhymes
that lead us by the hand.

As if to say this life of yours
is wanting for its bed,
so be untroubled, free of chores,
and rest your weary head.

Details | Lee Dunn Poem

Cubbyhole

There's a place of peace and rest, I think.
In daydreams there are hints.
But lost they are in just a wink,
and leave no fingerprints.

My valley is of rolling green,
with castles in the mist,
and starry glitter nightly seen
as by the heavens kissed.

At torment's end, forgiveness.
Release from worldly cares.
A pardon's leave to live in this-
a rarity of airs.

Though just a dream, I hold it fast,
abandoning it never.
In days of future, present, past,
It holds me close, forever.

Details | Lee Dunn Poem

At Night

A stranger that I know 
lies deeply in leafy mold. 
We speak by mumbles in opportune nights. 
He is always looking away 
to some precious mystery
but I can't follow his eye. 
He surprises me in many ways-
pulling those strings, 
a pretense of wings, 
unknowable things.