Skip to comments.
The Dragonflies' Lair~Thread XXXII~
The Muse and Poets of The Lair
| December 1, 2006
| Soaring Feather
Posted on 12/01/2006 8:08:18 PM PST by Soaring Feather
My Dragon Fly and Me
If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!
By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone
On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and me...
And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...
Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...
bentfeather©
2002
|
|
|
|
TOPICS: Poetry
KEYWORDS: dragonflies; dragons; originalpoetry; poetry
Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first 1-50, 51-100, 101-150, 151-200 ... 951-979 next last
To: WayzataJOHNN; Lady Jag; starbase; WL Mantis; HopeandGlory; EsmeraldaA; tomkow6; Kathy in Alaska; ...
New Thread Ping!
2
posted on
12/01/2006 8:13:10 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: All
Happy Holidays!
3
posted on
12/01/2006 8:19:57 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: All
Dream-Pedlary
by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
If there were dreams to sell,
What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell;
Some a light sigh,
That shakes from Life's fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell,
What would you buy?
A cottage lone and still,
With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still,
Until I die.
Such pearls from Life's fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will,
This would best heal my ill,
This would I buy.
But there were dreams to sell
Ill didst thou buy;
Life is a dream, they tell,
Waking, to die.
Dreaming a dream to prize,
Is wishing ghosts to rise;
And if I had the spell
To call the buried well,
Which one should I?
If there are ghosts to raise,
What shall I call,
Out of hell's murky haze,
Heaven's blue pall?
Raise my loved long-lost boy,
To lead me to his joy.--
There are no ghosts to raise;
Out of death lead no ways;
Vain is the call.
Know'st thou not ghosts to sue,
No love thou hast.
Else lie, as I will do,
And breathe thy last.
So out of Life's fresh crown
Fall like a rose-leaf down.
Thus are the ghosts to woo;
Thus are all dreams made true,
Ever to last!
4
posted on
12/01/2006 8:22:45 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: WVJudyInJupiter; Lady Jag; WayzataJOHNN; WL Mantis; Kathy in Alaska; EsmeraldaA; ...
Good morning everyone.
5
posted on
12/02/2006 7:19:29 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: Soaring Feather; WVJudyInJupiter; WayzataJOHNN; WL Mantis; Kathy in Alaska; EsmeraldaA
6
posted on
12/02/2006 9:38:33 AM PST
by
Lady Jag
(Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid)
To: Lady Jag
Hello Lady! Wonderful graphic.
Yikes, do we ever have cold temps and winds, no snow. Did you get any of the storm?
7
posted on
12/02/2006 9:43:55 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(I Soar, cause I can....)
To: Soaring Feather
It is a strangely sunny day. I don't remember seeing anything like it since last September. The sky is actually blue, can you believe that?
It's 45 out and last night's wind died around lunch time.
We got rain last night. Was that the tail end of the storm you had?
8
posted on
12/02/2006 11:56:51 AM PST
by
Lady Jag
(Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid)
To: Soaring Feather
Hi there Soaring Feather. I'm just cruising by here in cyberspace. I should have my new internet set up all done by the 12th, I can't wait. See you later!! :-)
9
posted on
12/02/2006 4:37:10 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: starbase
To: Lady Jag
Our storm kinda fizzled, we did have rain and last night the temps dropped 30 degrees. No snow here, yet.
It was cold today, I had to go out to do an errand. I scurried around to get home and in the heat.
It's cold out tonight.
To: Soaring Feather; Lady Jag; starbase
"I had to go out to do an errand. I scurried around to get home and in the heat. It's cold out tonight."
A Path To Home
When I was young and eager,
Some fears seemed very odd.
For others who’d grown frail with age,
While confidently I trod.
The world was filled with wonders,
And treasures I could seek.
The fearfulness I saw in them,
Just told me they were weak.
My thirst and hunger led me on,
As elders watched with dread.
I scorned their hesitation,
And boldly did I tread.
I fed my appetites with glee,
Until my sated gaze,
Beheld the fact I stood unarmed,
Where dragons chose to graze.
So caution thus was born inside,
My heart that sought to roam,
And slowly I then backed away,
To find a path to home.
My heart had filled its wanderlust,
My feet had gone their mile.
I slowly traced my way back to,
My welcome domicile.
I spoke with children bright of eye,
Of wonders I had seen,
And saw horizons fill their gaze,
And appetites grow keen.
I now discover how my world,
Has shrunken to a town,
Where someone always helps me up,
Whenever I fall down.
I have a vision now that I,
Who once had sturdy tread,
Will only totter those few steps,
That take me to my bed.
My trip has come full circle,
I stare as some young lad,
Departs to find his way along,
The winding path I had.
NicknamedBob . . . December 2, 2006
12
posted on
12/02/2006 5:09:29 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Wow, that's a very nice and excellent poem NicknamedBob.
13
posted on
12/02/2006 5:15:24 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: starbase
Thank you!
Congratulations on your new internet setup. Enjoy!
14
posted on
12/02/2006 5:19:39 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Oh my, this is a wonderful poem, as always with your work -it sings. Natural rhythm.
To: Soaring Feather
Then how come I can't dance?
16
posted on
12/02/2006 5:35:03 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
LOL, don't know. Maybe it's cause you have two left feet. ;)
To: Soaring Feather
That's fair enough, I guess.
I have two write hands.
18
posted on
12/02/2006 5:40:43 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Oh you're a comic, too. ;)
To: Soaring Feather
Chicken Soup
My nephew had a poultry farm! (His stock just numbered two.)
He planned to breed some more of them, but then one got the flu.
Now, Medicine is not his strength, but he worked for the group.
He nursed the sick one back to health. He fed it Chicken Soup!
That’s right, he killed the healthy one, to make the sick one strong.
And you may think this makes no sense, but then you have it wrong.
For business, it’s crazy, but that’s not where he leans.
He’ll be a whiz with all the biz of Government Machines!
Where this new math can operate, increases are called cuts,
And taxes are investments. In other words, it’s Nuts!
My brother’s son will fit right in. He thinks that way a lot.
If you call, and you hear strange advice, my nephew’s who you got!
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . April 29, 2005
20
posted on
12/02/2006 5:56:48 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
LOL, that's so delightful. I like it. Nice graphic.
To: Soaring Feather
22
posted on
12/02/2006 6:21:20 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: Soaring Feather
In typical old sailor fashion, I am partying to the max!
After all, you only turn sixty once and I intend to do so with style!!!
Once I heal up from the over indulgence I will try to write something more relevant then
WHOOOOOOOPEE!
Curmudgeon First-Class at last! ;^)
23
posted on
12/02/2006 11:24:10 PM PST
by
WayzataJOHNN
( Poetry is the jazz of words, laid down by a feeling soul.)
To: WayzataJOHNN
To: WayzataJOHNN; Soaring Feather
"After all, you only turn sixty once and I intend to do so with style!!!"I'm way ahead of you, Buddy!
SEX-a-genarian!
My birthdays have reached a milestone.
I like the sound of that!
A half-a-dozen decades now,
I have under my hat.
And everything's still working,
You'll have to take my word.
In fact, I still have all my parts,
Though the edges may have blurred.
My hairline seems haphazard now,
And spotty at the best.
My upper-body strength,
Has sagged with all the rest.
I still can make the effort,
And suck my gut in well,
But I can't hold that pose too long,
Because my stomach's swell.
With no digestive problems,
I eat just as I choose,
And then I wash the morsels down,
With moderate sips of booze.
For I believe in moderation,
I don't take to extremes,
I guess I'm quite exceptional,
But only in my dreams.
Let's emphasize that syllable,
The first one in this ode,
As I admit the kindness thus,
To womankind bestowed.
No supplements are needed,
Except for Vitamins,
I wouldn't want to have to buy,
Assistance for my sins.
So Mrs. Bob is happy,
Contented all the while,
The medicine cabinet is all hers,
As is her fetching smile.
I'm now a SEXagenarian,
It gives me a lofty view,
I've got ten years to live the part,
And that's just what I'm planning to do!
NicknamedBob . . . . . February 24, 2005
25
posted on
12/03/2006 10:18:57 AM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Now that's poetry!
Thank You, Bob
;^) Trike
26
posted on
12/03/2006 11:12:53 AM PST
by
WayzataJOHNN
( Poetry is the jazz of words, laid down by a feeling soul.)
To: WayzataJOHNN
27
posted on
12/03/2006 11:23:30 AM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
To: Soaring Feather; Lady Jag; WayzataJOHNN; All
29
posted on
12/03/2006 2:41:29 PM PST
by
Kathy in Alaska
(~ God Bless and Protect Our Brave Protectors of Freedom~)
To: Kathy in Alaska
Hello Kathy! Thank You, for Sunday Tunes for the Lair.
I hope you had a good sleep after your long trip home. ;)
To: WayzataJOHNN
Happy 60th Birthday, Guy!!
Click
31
posted on
12/03/2006 3:32:10 PM PST
by
Kathy in Alaska
(~ God Bless and Protect Our Brave Protectors of Freedom~)
To: Soaring Feather; Lady Jag; WayzataJOHNN; All
32
posted on
12/03/2006 3:47:31 PM PST
by
Kathy in Alaska
(~ God Bless and Protect Our Brave Protectors of Freedom~)
To: Soaring Feather
My own bed was wonderful.....4 1/2 hours of good sleep.
33
posted on
12/03/2006 3:57:28 PM PST
by
Kathy in Alaska
(~ God Bless and Protect Our Brave Protectors of Freedom~)
To: Kathy in Alaska
Oh do I know the feeling! ;)
To: Soaring Feather; Lady Jag; WayzataJOHNN; All
35
posted on
12/03/2006 4:11:18 PM PST
by
Kathy in Alaska
(~ God Bless and Protect Our Brave Protectors of Freedom~)
To: Kathy in Alaska; Soaring Feather; WayzataJOHNN; All
The Pelican Fies at Sunset
36
posted on
12/03/2006 4:11:52 PM PST
by
Lady Jag
(Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid)
To: WayzataJOHNN
Happy Birthday!!
37
posted on
12/03/2006 4:13:13 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: Soaring Feather; WayzataJOHNN; Lady Jag; All
Hi everyone, starbase checking in here.
While I have been dying to get my computer and connection all set up, nevertheless I had an interesting experience this weekend. I'm not just moving around here and there (that is, I'm not just a pretty face!!), but rather I have also been digging around in some deep philosophy all the while I've been doing the traveling thing (Plato, and Buddhism, and Scripture, what have you).
Well this weekend it was freezing and gray, and also all apartments in Taiwan are solid concrete, painted of course, but still concrete, and all floors are hard, cold tile, you must wear shoes inside or your feet will ache something terrible. So all in all it's a truly nasty environment (and don't forget how polluted it is and all the staring people I mentioned earlier).
Well I do have a plush mattress, and a thick quilt, and an excellent reading lamp I bought, and this weekend, after frying up some victuals, I settled in deeply with my philosophical materials and just reflected my way into oblivion. Yes, I've never felt so close to just pure thought for such a long time, while chewing over the amazing complexity and insightfulness of past Masters. And in what seemed like the blink of an eye, Monday morning is here.
Well, I thought to myself, I'd like some more of that! And why was it so engrossing in pure thought? Because the environment I'm in is so bloody awful, that's why!!! So, while it borders on the famous "Idiot" parable (that being, why did the idiot hit himself on the head with a hammer? because it felt so good when he stopped!!), still, I have decide to not get a computer for another month, and in fact not touch a computer until January 12th (two days after pay day), and instead, through the infliction of lonely pain, focus on this forced closeness to truly sophisticated thought, and see where and towards what it takes my thinking.
So, that's a long winded way to say this will be my last post for five weeks! I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and I'll see you all on the other side! LOL!
Cheers,
starbase
38
posted on
12/03/2006 4:32:28 PM PST
by
starbase
(Understanding Written Propaganda (click "starbase" to learn 22 manipulating tricks!!))
To: WayzataJOHNN; Soaring Feather
"Now that's poetry!"
Remember this?
Tripping over the Tripod
I place each little gem with a meticulous delight.
And then allow my lips a smile to think I’ve got it right.
Each word must form a cadence like some beads upon a string,
And form a rhythmic lullaby if one should choose to sing.
Concatenating rhymings like the buzzing of a saw,
When someone hears the words they will be mesmerized with awe.
The mechanistic ticking of monotonistic tocks,
A sturdy dancing metronome within a room of clocks.
You dash upon the scene as with the flourish of a cape,
Bedazzle me with brilliance til my jaw begins to gape.
You spin and point out vistas that have been within my grasp,
If I had not been sunken in my tidy little task.
And up you leap upon the wall to gaze upon the land,
You reach into your pocket, and with a flashing hand,
Splash wild colors across the sky, of a bright and starlit night.
And sing a song of derring-do up to the pale moonlight.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . .February 27, 2004
39
posted on
12/03/2006 4:33:10 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: starbase
Happy reflecting, and deep thought aloneness, it's a good thing to do sometimes.
I wish for you, your quest complete
peace inside, quite serene,
a serendipitous event for you to play
a holiday filled with joy
with your return to the Lair someday.
soaring feather (c) 12.03.06
To: NicknamedBob
I think I do remember this one Bob, it's as good now as it was in 2004.
To: Soaring Feather; WayzataJOHNN
It was originally dedicated to a certain particular poet, if you catch my drift.
42
posted on
12/03/2006 5:21:00 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
I've read the poem three times now, and it grows more dear every time.
It's a beautiful poem.
Did you write it for me?
To: Soaring Feather
Erm ... it was originally dedicated to a builder of vehicles with an odd number of wheels.
I consciously tried to capture a mechanistic meter similar to Poe's tintinnabulation poem.
I have not yet written a poem to you specifically, but I have observed that many others have ...
44
posted on
12/03/2006 5:36:47 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
oh sorry Bob, LOL didn't mean to put you on the spot.
I know now who you mean.
I am so dense sometimes. ;(
To: Soaring Feather
"I am your density." -- George McFly
46
posted on
12/03/2006 5:44:16 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
To: NicknamedBob
Er, one of those oooooops moments.
To: Soaring Feather
"Er, one of those oooooops moments."
Ooh--Ups
The sun’s shining brightly,
The dew has all gone,
God works on His time,
My alarm was not on.
A world perfect at seven,
With birdsong is great,
But I’m rumpled and drowsy,
And going in late.
God’s in His heaven,
And everything’s fine,
Except for the faces,
When I show up at nine.
NicknamedBob . . March 19, 2004
49
posted on
12/03/2006 5:57:41 PM PST
by
NicknamedBob
(Some people reach their level of incompetence when doing household chores.)
To: NicknamedBob
Can't stop ya Bob, you have a poem for every occasion. :)
Navigation: use the links below to view more comments.
first 1-50, 51-100, 101-150, 151-200 ... 951-979 next last
Disclaimer:
Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual
posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its
management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the
exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.
FreeRepublic.com is powered by software copyright 2000-2008 John Robinson
