Tag: jim ross
group name: zealforpoetry
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March 05, 2008 03:11 PM EST --
Speckled
Egg in pressed grass
Chills while a far killdeer
Cries and laments for a safe-hatched
blue egg
Copyright 2008 Jim Ross
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May 29, 2008 10:00 AM EDT --
"Crystal clear" repeats in my mind,
Your lenses, crystal clear--
Twin orbs of blue, polished by tears
Of your lovely making
To tease my heart to plead for you
To spend eternity
With . . .
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January 04, 2008 02:56 AM EST --
Starbursts
Spark from wave crests
To charm a loving pair
Who clasp hands at the liner's rail
And regale as her ring becomes as one
With nature's dancing nighttime heart
And glimpse their . . .
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December 28, 2007 04:05 PM EST --
Winter
Rips through my clothes,
Chaps and reddens my cheeks,
Sails crisp brown leaves capriciously;
Her time to cool Earth's overheated crust
After seasons of growing stuff;
She shows us her . . .
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October 28, 2007 03:25 PM EDT --
Hot stones catechize my heart
Only to collide and grind
To sand
Rough motes on a stormy day
Allowed past fabric sentries
To live
Sprinkled as cops breaking feuds
Of . . .
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January 02, 2008 06:22 AM EST --
Ragged sky blanket,
Sheep's wool lived under too long,
Shows mazarine blue
With the sun's dying efforts
To clear things up for the night
Copyright 2008 Jim Ross
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March 26, 2008 12:27 AM EDT --
Confused and dismayed
Preadolescent lad stares
At her winsome smile
As she plays silly girl games
With joy that stirs giddy laughs
Copyright 2008 Jim Ross
If you enjoyed this poem . . .
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May 20, 2007 06:02 AM EDT --
He peeks at me, the golden eye, and grins,
Light spreading wide as shadows run and hide,
He watches fields as newborn day begins.
He peeks at me, the golden eye, and grins!
He pushes high so heated air . . .
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May 26, 2007 09:02 AM EDT --
Silence
Splits predawn air
Widening eyes to strain
And see what moves on black grass spears
Outside
Two deer step with innocent stealth
Across the pebbled path
Lightly shadowed
Today
Copyright . . .
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June 20, 2007 08:02 AM EDT --
Dad looks hard to find his wooden mallet
To rabbet the dead-flat planks, just right.
He’ll tap the joints when he can find it--
Dad looks hard to find his wooden mallet.
He’ll also . . .
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April 07, 2007 01:51 PM EDT --
'Tis time again to hoe the fields;
The water runs and the sun soars quickly high.
In sweat and toil, on landscape, hard,
He chops and weeds, then sows and reaps,
His song of life no idle lullaby to . . .
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May 20, 2007 12:20 PM EDT --
Mom’s green hat with feather snippets
Bob in a flowered chapeau band;
On Sissy’s head, a grand exhibit,
Mom’s green hat with feather snippets,
Yellow shoes with nylon anklets,
Sissy moves . . .
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November 09, 2007 04:14 PM EST --
Once more I hop to the lip and stand
On the edge of my world, and stretch--
What’s that? The wind is fierce today!
My feathers flutter--they feel so good--
But I grip the nest for dear fledgling . . .
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November 27, 2007 01:06 PM EST --
Rain streams down windows
Cataracts from soulful clouds
Wept to cleanse our souls
Upon reflection from here
Our warm and cozy homesteads
Copyright 2007 Jim Ross
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October 05, 2007 10:07 AM EDT --
Find out how it works--
The power’s in the passion
Of your guiding light
Copyright 2007 Jim Ross
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May 17, 2007 11:54 PM EDT --
Spring greens the rises, the cracks in the road
As it twists and turns through split rail fences
Of ranches begging “most beautiful” on earth,
With displays of spreading oaks, and cattle . . .
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June 11, 2007 01:41 AM EDT --
Balmy summer day
Fragrant breeze to stir one’s soul
To share pleasantries
Copyright 2007 Jim Ross
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June 23, 2007 06:18 PM EDT --
Poor dear ol’ Fred, got shot in the head,
Surprised, woke in bed, sweaty with dread,
‘Til one moment he heard
Aunt Martha’s loud, wailed words--
He’d been laid in a casket, . . .
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October 17, 2007 01:57 PM EDT --
Of the shadows in the light
Of graceful life—
Now with ripples on the bay,
Movement is recorded
As this day resolves to pass—
This, and each successive day
. . .
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December 08, 2007 02:27 AM EST --
The surf gently sighs
As it absorbs the scribed sand--
Your message is spread
Copyright 2007 Jim Ross
This haiku was inspired by Marianne K's wonderful, untitled . . .
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