Scare Crows
in the fields of your dreams
we were never just scare crows
we were the flowers
that bloomed in June
the dews of dawn in May
the merry makings
of December
the promises of January
the forgotten deaths of
April
in your life we cannot be
disregarded
we are the integral parts
of you
do not look at us as though
we are just
your scare crows
we are your rivers too
sometimes you touched
the sides
of our being mountains
and we shiver
like a squirrel
the one that runs away when
you begin
to move in.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Two Crows (Fun Poem)
Two crows spied a piece of bread
Both landed beside it on the ground
They started to squabble over it
As neither wanted to share
While they squabbled about it
A passing squirrel spied it to
As the crows continued to squabble
The squirrel nicked it
Then made a hasty retreat.
The crows stopped squabbling
And decided the bread to share
But when they looked upon the ground
The bread was nowhere there
The moral of this story
Yes, there is one indeed
If you want to squabble
About food somewhere
Make sure there isn’t
A squirrel lurking there
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where Do the Crows Go
I see and hear less Crows in Spring.
Where do the Crows go?
While the Morning Doves chirp,
And the Bluebirds sing.
At dawn I use to hear the Crows...
From the rooftops and fences,
Do that 'crowing' thing.
And now that Spring has arrived,
I do not see a Crow around.
Where do the Crows go?
That's what I want to know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crows for Konstantin
Crows.
The noise of conflict dies away.
Those left alive will now depart.
Only the dead allowed to stay,
they have no further part to play.
The warring sides in full retreat
The crows tonight dine on fresh meat.
Though neither side claims victory.
The crows will feast quite happily.
Since man first slew another man.
It seems to be Dame Natures plan.
The crows will feast on the remains
The scavengers alone will gain.
While warring sides must count the cost
of fighting men that they have lost.
Perhaps one day we’ll realise
In war there are no victories.
Bar for the crows who do not fight
but satisfy their appetite.
On those who do who in their view
Choose to fight. they don’t need to.
Although in death they feed the crows.
I don’t suppose the crows oppose.
The idea that men come to blows.
Nor do they care I must suppose.
The only winners are the crows
who feast until they’re comatose.
On what is left of those who chose
to risk their lives exchanging blows.
Sunday,09 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crows
THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed
Of what he said, and was revolving it:
How, in the night, crows often take to wing,
Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr,
And flying on: I pictured what he told.
The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings
Upon the stones out yonder in the fields,
The first live things that we see in the mornings;
The crows that march across the fields, that sit
Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home
And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr;
The crows we look on at all hours of light,
Growing, and full, and going these black beings have
Another lifetime!
Crows flying in the dark
Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen
Except by eyes that are like to their own
Trespassers' eyes!
And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp,
Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer;
And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain
When I was taken from my mother's lap;
And you, young girl, with looks that have come down
From forefathers, my kin ye have another life
I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser-
Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
January
I know you told me this before
I know you told me this a million times
You say you dont know how you feel
You dont know if you even love me anymore
If she was a good kisser
Then i'd know how much i'd miss her
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
I wish i didnt say i'm sorry
I wish you loved me all the same
I wish i wasnt such a wishy-washy prick
I wish i said just how i fetlt
If i was a good listener
Maybe you would still be here
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
I still miss the way we touched
I miss the way oyou'd bite my tongue
I miss the way you run away
You run away
January February March April May
June through December I wish you would stay
I know you're leaving me
I know you told me this before
I know you told me this a million times
You say you dont know how you feel
When will you know just how you feel
January came
For April you have stayed
June i was in heaven
July was just the same
September rolled around
October wore a frown
By Christmas we were through
song performed by by Goldfinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lose The Respect And Reputation?
Entering into somebody's house,
Scare while one goes into,
Scare while one returns from,
Scare while one is enjoying the desire,
Scare while one is trying to hide his activities from others;
While there is fear and scare forever,
why one does not consider the risk
of entering into somebody's house,
of desirous to have contact with somebody's wife
and lose the respect and reputation? (naalatiyaar 83)
There is always fear of
Sexually Transmitted Disease,
Acquired Immuno Deficiency Syndrome,
Beware of your activity!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Futility
The scarecrow dressed in cast off clothes.
Sticks grimly to his given task
But does he frighten off the crows,
that is the question we must ask.
When he is new perhaps he will
but crows are wise and realise.
This ragged figure stands stock still
and will not take them by surprise.
He cannot move, inanimate.
Which leaves then free to eat their fill.
A guardian quite inadequate.
He does not and he never will.
Frighten the crows who are too wise
to be afraid of straw stuffed clothes
Though he appears in manly guise
he can’t deter the hungry crows.
The scarecrow fails in his attempt.
He never really stood a chance
Crows treat him with amused contempt
and disregard his vigilance.
5-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Those Green Fields Of Kilmeedy
Those green fields of Kilmeedy I do remember still
They meet the gorse and bracken at the foot of Clara hill
A place of peace and beauty with mountains all around
Scarce touched by man's pollution where Nature's joys abound.
Even in summer in Kilmeedy the dawn comes with a chill
But skylark he is piping above the bracken hill
Through Spring and through the Summer he sings all through the day
And I fancy I can hear him o'er mountains far away.
The robin he is piping on flowering hawthorn tree
Across the miles of distance his music comes to me
And dunnock on the hedgerow and dipper in the stream
And song thrush piping gaily on ash by old bohreen.
All through the Spring and Summer the wildering flowers are seen
But green fields of Kilmeedy not always quite so green
In November and December the winds of Winter blow
And January and February bring frost and sleet and snow.
In mid March in Kilmeedy the first wildflowers appear
And weather still quite chilly though days of bloom are near
But April brings her blossoms and leaves behind her green
And May comes o'er the mountain the summer beauty queen.
Those green fields of kilmeedy I see them every day
And I hear the skylark piping o'er hillsides far away
And dunnock on the hedgerow and the dipper in the stream
And those green fields of Kilmeedy have never looked so green.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Little Garden
Sun yet to born,
crows yet to wake,
I ran to my little garden.
Dews everywhere
dark made a blanket on my plants.
I am looking for my rose flower
Mummy said today it will blossom.
I touched all my little plants
and they returned the shakehand
with cold honey dews.
The first rays of sun is coming
its breaking the dark into pieces
and my little swing birds started singing.
Where is my flower?
I checked everywhere.
Oh I found my plant and I cant believe
The beautiful yellow rose
I touched it, kissed it and plucked it
Mummy, Daddy.I screamed with joy
I run to them and showed, see my rose flower..
I stretched my hand to my mummy
then I noticed a red dot in the flower,
It was a dropp of blood
may be I touched the thorne
may be the plants eyedrops
may be the the flowers pain
may be the the pain of taking away from its mother
I feel sorry
Parting is sorrowfull
poem by Slb Pillai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As the Crows Gathered
As the Crows Gathered
By: Adam M. Snow
Surrounded by bodies of murder
the flocking and squawk arose.
Score of many rows on girder
feast of death drew the crows.
One to carry souls of many;
one onto life beyond life.
Yet was not the foe-of any-
to leave this world of strife.
The crows they flock,
they flock, they squawk;
flapping their wings tremendously.
They caw, they pecked,
they grew many in score
groups gathered more and more.
Blackened the sky with their endless flutter;
'But what of this? ' I utter.
'My days are long now being nighted.
The crows around have united.'
Feathers falling, covering the ground with black;
everywhere I look, it covers every crack.
The thought of death surrounds us all
before the crows, life will fall.
The ominous bank of crows like a cloud,
covers the world like an endless shroud.
Leaving I, overwhelm with fear
it is death lurking near.
The crows they gathered all in vast;
all is dark than a shadow cast.
They prey the lost and many more,
time has come for death to bore.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life On Sea-Shore
Life on sea-shore
In a year
And a year has twelve months
That signifies twelve animals
And it is love of animal you say.
Let us begin with your saying
January-rat
February-ox
March-tig er
April-rabbit
May-dragon
June-snake
July-horse
August-sheep
September-monkeyOctober-cock
November-dog
December-boarAnd here you see
Complete the life
And all are in five
You are to think
What are the five.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Dreamt...
i dreamt...
i was dead,
and they'd buried me
on a hill with
a small stone marker.
and i watched
as seasons passed,
one by one,
in constant rhythm...
the years went by.
and no living being
ever visited my graveside,
except for black crows...
again and again,
black crows!
the caw of the crows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Black Maria
Black maria, you scare me so
I feel as though my heart stop dead
Youre a liar, this I know
I watch you go around my head
Oh, Im going down slow
You scare me so
Oh, you never let go
You scare me so
Gay deceiver, my eyes they burned
My insides turned, my brain it rolled
Unbeliever, but now Ive learned
I took my turn, I come up cold
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Flute Lads!
I flute the up and down of sun,
I flute the pallid moon,
I flute the rivers deep and wide
And down the merry tide.
I leave the rose so red
And pluck the lily white;
I flute upon my bed
And play into the night.
If I could flute forever
And play a merry tune,
Then I would know no sorrow
In April, May, and June.
So up and down the golden sun
And up the pallid moon,
Flute my lovely lads, flute,
In April, May, and June.
poem by Samuel Hardman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Skip Through the Year
For those of January
May they always have
Something fun to do
For in January
You start everything new
Those born in February
They shall have a wide range
Of things to differ
Of things to change
In March, you shall see
The fun will begin
With the sunlight along them
For then begins Spring
In April the tricks
And jokes have no end
Watch out for liars
For words twist and bend
May, the season
Where all is green
Where flowers bloom
Where all is seen
June
Now summer has begun
All should be happy
And smile in the sun
July, the middle
Of warmth is the season
Where things are done
For no real reason
August, pray
School is there
Where has vacation gone,
Tell me, where?
In September the leaves
Begin to fall
Some call this Autumn
Some call it Fall
October, get ready
For trick or treat
For all kids love
To recieve things sweet
November, believe it
The year's almost gone
Now winter begins
Too long the sun shone
December, now go
To your sled or snow cart
Sit down and get ready
A new year to start.
poem by Jenny Diamond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blues Of The Months
The blues of January,
The blues of February,
The blues of March,
The blues of April,
The blues of May,
The blues of June,
The blues of July,
The blues of August,
The blues of September,
The blues of October,
The blues of November,
The blues of December,
Meet me there if you can!
And like Glory-Land and Merry-land;
But my home will always accept in your sweet blues.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Don't Scare Me None
Written by: Larry Crane
Performed by: John Mellencamp
Well, it don't scare me none,
I've been there before,
Sideswiped an old Oak tree
In a rusted-out old Ford.
Shot at guys who were shootin' back
In the Second World War,
And it don't scare me none
I've been there before.
Well I fell in love with a woman
Who did not love me back,
Bare-handled rattle snakes
And threw 'em in a sack,
Honkey tonked with strangers
Who were eating broken glass,
Well, it don't scare me none
'Cause I'll be comin' back.
I take from my loved ones
To gamble on my friends,
I take the long way home
And the fun never ends,
Woke up blurry-eyed
Wonderin' where I've been,
I've wrestled with my conscience,
But my conscience never wins.
No you don't scare me none,
I've been there before
Sideswiped an old Oak tree
In a rusted-out old Ford.
Shot at guys who were shooting back
In the Second World War,
And it don't scare me none
I've been there before.
Well, the preacher man, he told me
I'd better change my ways,
Put a lid on the boilin' pot
Or there'd be Hell to pay,
Hell ain't no place
For a guy to jump the track,
But it don't scare me none
'Cause man, I'm coming back.
Well it don't scare me none,
I've been there before,
Sideswiped an old Oak tree
In a rusted-out old Ford.
Shot at guys who were shooting back
In the Second World War,
And it don't scare me none,
'Cause I've been there before.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Proud Scarecrow
An old scarecrow stood with his arms akimbo,
Thinking his dull life was now in limbo,
He somehow, never seemed to scare the crows,
He had tried hard enough, heaven knows.
His coat was torn and there were many more
Holes, where the crows had searched for straw.
His hat was looking limp and out of shape,
His shirt in the front, had begun to gape.
A fieldmouse had nested inside his sleeve,
Even though he had asked it nicely, to leave.
Then sadly the whole family had all moved in,
And created each night, such an awful din.
That poor old scarecrow could get no sleep,
It made him sad, and it made him weep,
He considered it constantly, in his turnip head,
Actually that old scarecrow, was quite well read.
Then one day he found he was being moved,
Into a very large building, it was proved,
A place where important things can be found,
Where people stand and admire, and look around.
A Museum that's dedicated to our Country Art,
And a scarecrow his age, just had to be part
Of this collection, that was here for all to view,
An exhibit that stated that 'he' was 'New'.
In all his tatters, he stood straight and tall,
Not minding all the stares, no, not at all,
For this new life he felt, just couldn't be beat,
Now he's a proud scarecrow, feeling so complete.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
October is one of the peculiarly dangerous months to speculate in stocks. Others are July, January, April, September, November, May, March, June, December, August and February.
quote by Mark Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
How...?
Two crows
Crying
On the tree
Summer hot...!
Crows wanted
For
A cool drinking water....
Help....
Help...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!