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Best Poems Written by Genevieve Mika-Stevens

Below are the all-time best Genevieve Mika-Stevens poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Violin

She was a lonely violin,
in a case all by herself,
looking forward to the evenings,
when he’d take her off the shelf-

After reaching his destination,
he would gently set her down,
and ever oh so tenderly,
remove her velvet gown-

With chin held high, he’d hold her close,
she made him feel so proud,
and then a song she would sing ,
which always drew a crowd-

Together they were magical,
making music quite refined,
he knew that she was special,
of an extraordinary kind-

Late one night the maestro sighed,
a tear rolled down his eye,
this cannot forever last, he said,
for soon I’m going to die-

The violin now knew,
that soon would be their end,
he had filled her life with loving care,
and been so true a friend-

Now on any given night,
walking down this unpaved street ,
some hear a violin’s lonely cry,
so sad , but yet so sweet-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015



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Owlology 101

This is a poem I wrote last year for my grand children....one loves bird...future ornithologist, maybe?

Owls belong to one of two different families or classes,
Even though there are more than 216 types in their masses,
The barn owl - 18 different ones, are in one class by themselves
The other 198 are true owls, including the little elf- 

You can tell to which family an owl belongs, in several different ways,
All barn owls are nocturnal but some true owls awaken during the day,
Barn owls have heart shaped faces - true owls faces are round,
True owls have ear tufts - on barn owls these can’t be found-

These beautiful creatures are called birds of prey or raptors,
And most of them play the survival role in life as captors,
Sharp beaks, sharp talons, a “parliament” if in a group together,
They live everywhere on earth, regardless of the weather-

Owls have poor vision when looking at things near,
But in low light or at a distance, their vision is exceptionally clear,
Their eyeballs are fixed - they look straight ahead to see,
That's why they can rotate their heads,  a full 270 degrees-

There's  no denying that an owl hears better than us,
More acute at certain frequencies, the slightest movement even on dust,
The disc shaped face is not a face alone, but more a radar dish instead,
With ear openings behind the eyes and asymmetrically on its head-

Camouflaged with muted feathers of white, gray, tan and black,
An owl blends into its environment just before an attack,
With softened edges on its' feathers, this silent killer flies undetected,
Swooping down upon its prey with presence unexpected-

Owls make all different kinds of sounds, resonating soft or loud,
It depends on what vocal cords, with which they’ve been endowed,
True owls hoot, whistle, trill, and can produce a melodic, pretty sound, 
Barn owls have a raspy screech with sounds that are quite profound-

The elf owl is the smallest – the size of a small sparrow bird, 
It will take flight to escape a fight, because peace is what it prefers, 
When threatened it plays dead, then feeling safe, will fly away and GO,
Weighing about an ounce and a half, it lives in cacti or a tree hole-

The Blakiston’s Fish Owl is over ten pounds, the heaviest owl you can find, 
The powerful Great Horned has no predators, except for its own kind, 
The Great Grey is the longest, three feet total in length - that’s tall,
And the Eagle Owl has a wing span over six feet - the widest of them all-

The Snowy Owl in Harry Potter is an owl that ‘s totally white, 
It is diurnal in nature - meaning it's active both day and night, 
Its low-pitched hooting sounds can be heard from six miles away,
And it prefers eating arctic lemmings - from three to five a day!

OWLOLOGY 101  STUDENTS:  Hope you've learned a thing or two-
There's much more to an owl than just a simple WHO-O-O!

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2016

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SEASONS REMEMBERED

Spring arrived with life anew,
Fledglings hatched - then away they flew,
Bees gathered nectar from flowers of blue,
Morning grass glistened with sparkling dew!

Summer brought in the warmth of the sun,
Toasted marshmallows - went for a run,
Melted a s'more - put a ‘dog in a bun,
Memories were made - just having fun!

Autumn burst forth in magnificent show,
Dressed up the trees with a bright crimson glow,
'Til breezes thieved and north winds did blow, 
Lacing leaf tapestries 'neath branches below!

Winter invaded with chilling plight,
Clouds coveted stars and obscured the moon’s light,
Thunder crackled - lightning danced at night,
As tranquility fell in a blanket of white-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2016

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Val, the Valiant Little Witch

Val was graduating from school,
Her grade point average was good-
Halloween night was her big debut, 
A difference she’d make, if she could! 

She liked to study and read her books,
Straight “A’s” and nothing less-
She was pretty and had good looks,
And her manners were always the best-

It did not matter what the class, 
Broom flying, charms, chants and more-
She learned everything so lightening fast, 
Teachers sensed much promise in store-

The little witch enchanted them,
"A bit of evil lurked surely inside-"
She twirled and whirled and held a slight grin,
Knowing she had something to hide-

The final exam was about to take place, 
Little Val was kind of afraid-
Her clothes were laid out at home, so she raced,
Then "goodbye" to her parents she bade.

She opened the door and went on her way,
A million things raced through her mind-
She had to think straight,for this wasn’t play, 
Her secret, she hoped they’d not find-

"Oh my" she thought as she returned to class, 
“I hope they don’t sense I’ve been lying-
I pretend to be mean and I can harass, 
But the inside of me is just sighing-“

“Okay” said the teacher, Let’s hit the town,
To show what each of you’ve learned-
Please, witches beware, if you can’t cast a spell, 
Your diplomas you’ll have to return-

So carefully, the class filed out, 
The administrators right by their sides-
Little Val, she wanted to shout, 
But for now she’d have to abide-

Moonlight was shadowed and not very bright,
Sidewalks were crowded, not bare-
All-Hallowed-Eve’s night had perfect light,
And at all of them, not a soul stared-

Lots of movement was stirring around, 
Costumes abound on this night-
Val breathed in deeply, not making a sound, 
It was time to make things right!

The little witch was conniving, it’s true, 
Now her powers were about to be tried-
She had learned many things in sorcery school, 
Like, spells should never be misapplied!

“HALT,” said Val in a voice loud and clear, 
“I have something that I must announce,
This applies to everyone here, 
THIS WITCHCRAFT YOU HAVE TO RENOUNCE!”

Little witch Val knew she had to work fast, 
And began quickly making her brew- 
“From this day forward until your last, 
Only good things can come from you!“	

The teachers were stunned - so were her friends,
Val had a goal from the start-
A difference she'd made as she managed to cleanse, 
All the meanness right out of each heart!

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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Amiss On A Misty Sea

Through rolling vapor MISTS I spy, a sailing ship at sea,
And think, perhaps, the Captain’s lost, MYSTIFIED as to where he be-
For he had MISSED his plotted course, because he could not see,
And now was lost and AMIDST, with others just like he-
There was no sign of MISTING, leaving the harbor an hour before,
REMISS about the weather, didn't know a MIST was rolling to shore-
MYSTERIOUS murk surrounded his ship, as he looked to find some ground,
And MISTY eyed he did become, when a way home wasn’t found-
“MISSING BOATS in a MYSTICAL FOG", the newspaper headlines read,
And those who'd been 'board the “MYSTIC,” now reported dead-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015



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Mythical Creature of Old

Scales of azure and emerald green,
Adorn tri-folding translucent wings,
Radiating an iridescent sheen,
	Off this mythical creature of old...

Crimson flames with every breath,
His eyes shrewd with amber hue,
One touch was the kiss of death,
	From this mythical creature of old...

Soaring high in sapphire skies,
Thunder roaring over the land,
Queens shuddered hearing the cries,
	Of this mythical creature of old...

Knights in armor searched in wild,
This dragon they could not find,
Kings sat upon thrones beguiled,
	Over this mythical creature of old...

Untouched by swordsmen’s blades,
Beyond aim of hunter’s bow,
Capture he evades,
	This mythical creature of old...

written for Dragons contest by The Silent One 10/22/15


Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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Under The Sea

Under the sea plays a colorful show,
Of bioluminescent jelly fish that glow,
In corals reefs with psychedelic hues,
Glittering in reds, pinks, greens, and blues,
Fascinating creatures both speckled and striped,
Swim down to the deep that's absent of light,
And here is where there lurks for man,
A world he has yet to understand,
With bottomless currents that tug and flow,
To where only the imagination and mermaids can go-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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My Sweet Juliet Rose

 for my ever so intelligent, beautiful granddaughter, Juliette

Waking in the garden, 
she was the lone bloomer out today-
Peeking from behind her petals, 
she saw a few faint sunshine rays-
Soaking in their goodness,
but wanting company-
She sang a melancholy song, 
sweet with melody-

Her delicate face smiled, 
when she thought she heard a lark-
But it splashed around the birdbath, 
then flew off to a near-by park-
“Sweet Juliet” was strong in nature- 
all roses knew that true-
But standing alone in the garden, 
was beginning to make her blue-

The garden entry was opening, 
she could hear the creaking gate,
And saw the ‘ole time gardener, 
give his head a shake,
“Well, pretty little lady,” 
he said right into her face,
“Bet you’re kind of lonely here, 
inside this rose bed place“

Spring was making its entry, 
very late into the year,
And “Sweet Juliet,” was finding it, 
very hard to quell her fear-
She knew she’d be tended well, 
by those hired to give her care-
But usually by this time of year, 
there’d be flowers everywhere-

This quaint little English garden,
did not like the winter cold,
And “Sweet Juliet” was wondering,
how much longer her stem would hold-
Then for a moment she was startled,
when upon the ground she saw-
Cornu aspersum - a garden snail, 
looking at her in awe- 

Her beauty could not  be denied, 
with cupped rosette form of old-
A popular choice for brides to be, 
a “Sweet Juliet” bouquet to hold-
Of 15,000 cultivated varieties, 
She’s referred to as the £3 million rose,
After high costs and 14 years of breeding,
She debuted in 2006 flower shows-

She is the royalty of many gardens- 
with her peachy-apricot hued blooms- 
And not to go unappreciated, 
is the scent of her tea-rose perfume-
Well protected through the winter,
with burlap enclosures ‘round her rows-
She’s safe in inclement weather,
and out of reach from cold winds that blow-

It took four weeks for the chill to go,
and the clouds to float away-
“Sweet Juliet” awoke to a buzzing sound,
and knew that spring was here to stay-
She glanced at the roses around her,
and smiled because she wasn’t alone-
For nothing gave her greater joy, 
Then having friends to share her home-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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PB the Polar Bear

for my two little energetic grandsons - Presley and Brenden...

PB  the polar bear cub, was born in a southerly coastal den,
And for about 15 weeks or so, he’d stay inside his 8x10 playpen, 
He was born blind, deaf, and with only a few strands of white hair,
And not being a twin or a triplet, made his single birth quite rare-
After two months he would venture out, to romp in the icy snow,
Where temperatures in the winter dipped, to -70 below-
He’d often watch his mother, sitting by ice holes on the sea,
Trying to catch a peeping bearded seal, for a delicious meal to be-
PB too would become a master, at this waiting game,
But not be very good at it, until after his 2nd birthday came-
When grown he’d smell his catch, from forty miles away,
The largest, most carnivorous of bears, seals were his diet’s mainstay,
His loving mom would teach him, all the skills he’d need to live,
And if he were in danger, her life for him she’d give,
PB was amazed how polar bears, could hold their breath so long,
Under water for nine minutes – they must be very strong!
Thirty months would pass, before PB was out on his own,
This 1500 pound bear, for 25 years, would call the arctic tundra his home-

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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Queen Alexandra

a post from 2014
for my beautiful granddaughter, Alexandra

After 13 days of confinement, 
a caterpillar broke out of her butterfly egg,
Then ate the shell and pipevine leaf, 
upon which it was laid,
A small fuzzy caterpillar, 
with red spikes sticking out her sides and top,
She noticed on her middle, 
a bright yellow colored spot-

Pipevine plants are toxic, 
to things that are alive,
But for Queen Alexandra, 
they would help her to survive,
These leaves would be her food source – 
a repellent to her foes,
And if a predator caught her, 
they’d vomit up and go-

Queen Alexandra wondered, 
where on earth she might be,
Glancing at a tree canopy, 
1,300 feet above the sea, 
She noticed the thick greenery, 
covering all the ground below,
And knew that only in a rainforest, 
could this kind of vegetation grow-

Queen Alexandra didn’t know the name, 
Papua New Guinea,
The tropical rainforest home, 
to the largest butterflies that be,
Loggers destroying habitat, 
collectors catching this species fast,
Predictions for her family – 
only until the year 2021 to last-

Queen Alexandra as a caterpillar, 
ate and grew for 120 days,
Shedding her skin six times was work, 
not any fun or play, 
Then she tightly clung 
to the underside of a pipevine leaf,
And changed into a pupa, 
the outside hardening as a protective sheath-

Inside changing her looks,
” metamorphosis” in her safe cocoon,
Forty days later emerging as a butterfly, 
in hours long before noon,
Her 12 inch wings were mostly brown, 
with pale yellow hues,
Her brother’s wings were smaller, 
with streaks of iridescent blue-

So flying up they joined a group – 
Queen Alexandra and her brother,
A gathering of butterflies together, you see,
is referred to as a “flutter,”
For about three months they’d fly, 
at the top of the tree canopy,
This endangered “Queen Alexandra” Butterfly, 
a beautiful rarity to see!


Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

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