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Adventures Of Isabel
Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn't care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear's big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I'll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry.
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.
Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked old witch.
the witch's face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch's gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho, ho, Isabel! the old witch crowed,
I'll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry,
She showed no rage and she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.
Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forhead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I'll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She nibled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant's head off.
Isabel met a troublesome doctor,
He punched and he poked till he really shocked her.
The doctor's talk was of coughs and chills
And the doctor's satchel bulged with pills.
The doctor said unto Isabel,
Swallow this, it will make you well.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She took those pills from the pill concocter,
And Isabel calmly cured the doctor.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A man who has his feet hacked off cannot scurry far.
In A Beep Beep Race
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
When I walk it's in a leisurely pace.
I want to take in every bit of a scene.
And when I walk,
I don't frown my face.
Like those in a hurry in a beep beep race.
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We're all like little ants who scurry around with the materials that are at hand right now. Each generation finds new materials. Its just evolution, isn't it?
quote by Beth Orton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blindly busy.
You see but look not.
You hear but listen not.
You smell but sense not.
You taste but relish not.
You touch but feel not.
All in hurry-scurry,
You are blindly busy.
Be lazy to enjoy
04.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hot burning sunshine,
Small round, creamy sand piled high,
Creatures scurry fast,
Danger lurks at every corner,
Here live many wild things.
tanka by Vika Rauzina
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Liu Ch'e
The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
Dust drifts over the court-yard,
There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves
Scurry into heaps and lie still,
And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them:
A wet leaf that clings to the threshold.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Weekend At Mt. Dandenong
Frolic mountain winds
Innocent and shy,
Kiss my darling's cheek
As they scurry by.
Little fragrant leaves
With the dawn astir,
Make a million songs
Full of love for her.
Will she wake or sleep
These two nights she'll spend
Up the mountain-side,
My dear truant friend?
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Morning Mist
In the shroud of morning mist
that herald a new day
dark monsters scurry back and forth,
as they hurry on their way.
Their roars are swallowed up
as silence consumes all
in the shroud of the morning mist
that heralds a new day.
29 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Squirrel
Here I am, I’m the squirrel!
I store nuts in a hole,
Before it gets too cold.
I scurry from tree to tree,
Collecting all the nuts that be.
I put them in holes near and far,
So that I forget where many are!
Look up at me and I’ll give you some cheek,
Then run up a branch without a creak.
Some probably think I am a nut,
Burying like I have no head, but;
God made me,
And that is just who I will be.
See me here, see me there,
I’m everywhere!
I’m the squirrel!
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Lil' Mouse
I can’t say I hate it
Though I can’t say it’s nice
Because now I look before I sit
Thanks to the little field mice
They scurry and run
Under chairs and doors
They must think its fun
Scuttling around on all fours
Finally caught the little brat
Though it nearly had a heart attack
Nearly eaten by my cat
So small so speed it really lacks
Now cuddled in cloth
Too late at night
Must feel like a sloth
Needs to be treated right
But alas it can’t be kept
Too wild and free
So into the garden it leapt
And me, well I let it be
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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A Quiet Time
Between the dawn and the daylight,
there is a quiet time
when the creatures of the night
scurry to their warm beds,
and creatures of the daylight
begin to yawn before getting out of theirs.
A quiet time when the world
seems so much at peace.
poem by David Harris
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Truth Decay
Have you noticed how much easier,
it is to tell when someone’s lying?
Do you really believe George Bush?
Do you really believe John McCain,
Paulson, Obama, Pelosi, Palin or Cheney?
Is it because the Sun shines more brightly,
on those that scurry around in darkness?
Sunshine promotes transparency.
Transparency treats truth decay.
Seek and speak truth…
“The truth shall set you free”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Back In History
Bringing it in! !
Ten times more;
Eating vegetables,
And of the matter at hand!
But, taking it in will always be guided by the muse of love.
The way of love!
One's speech,
One's language,
One's mind;
And, to go back in history! !
However, it should be used.
Fury, jury, bury, curry, hurry, scurry!
With many faces,
And like etymology;
Beyond! !
But, walk in balance and with beauty;
Coming together and, to get along so far in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Whooper-will Calls
Hear the Whooper-will
as evening begins to call,
telling everything
evening is approaching fast.
Daytime creatures
scurry to their homes
for their much needed sleep
before the night skies come.
Night creatures yawn
and climb out of their bed.
Another day is revolving
around the Whooper-will calling.
16 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Blackbird’s startled wing…
“Words come down, outer space
Mop my brow, dust these books
Upon the mantelpiece
Ignite the candle, long since
Flickered perpetual light
Before it’s time to say goodnight!
And, find my peace”.
“Words be bright, and be merry
As a church on Christmas Eve
Words sing, and sing!
Before all these shadows
Scurry off and flap away my soul
Unheard and underneath…
The Blackbird’s startled wing”.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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The Cat II
Mice waltz down my throat
and birdhouse birds fly headfirst down-
More would but for this tell-tale bell
with which I'm collar-bound:
Forewarned, they scattersqueal
scurry downstairs to their comfy lairs.
Remember, I'm a cat.
Nothing to do about that.
Exhausting my nine ends
I'll straightaway ascend 'way up to kitty heaven
(a biggish sort of alley)
chockabloc filled with my old friends.
Cream me, kipper me, even
tax me with inoculations
You doing that
I may occasionally, occasionally,
(if the mood befalls me)
catch a rat.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Sunday Suitor
Meadow floor, ocean view
Laying on thatched dandelions dressed in dew.
You bathe me with nature's flowers
Growing wild after a Spring shower.
Robins sing a romantic tune
Under a blue moon. My lip bathe you into exaltation
Perched robins peer, delighted in our copulation.
Squirrels scurry from their nest
While our hearts rest.
Forever my Sunday Suitor.
poem by Cindy Brazil
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Safe at Home
Glaring down the man
on the mound
A dogged head likened
to a hound
Gotta reach first
my goal is there
a hit, a bunt, a bean ball
don't really care
So I look
I took
four straight pitches
my jock and my poison, down there
truly itches
I reach first in a hurry
steal second in quite a hurry
I glance at third
as I start to scurry
passed ball
the next pitch
home again, home a again
safe
not to worry
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Depoe Bay
On Oregon coast down “101” way
Where the sea meets old lava flow
Lay a hamlet known as Depoe Bay
Where seawater geysers do blow
There’s a pub known as “Sea Hag”
Where travelers stop for cold beer
Sit by warm hearth, light up a fag
Hear din of boats from nearby pier
Music begins, bar maids do scurry
Stand in front of bottles & glasses
Beat sticks, playing with great flurry
All you will see is elbows 'n asses
Should you travel“101” one fine day
Be sure to tarry at old Depoe Bay
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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