The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XXI~

June 26, 2005 | bentfeather/Poets of the Lair

[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©

[HopeandGlory]

Yes . . it reminds of the sentence we had to repeat over and over again in typing class.

"All good men must come to the aid of their Country."

Are there enough "Good Men/Women" out there? . . .I sincerely hope so!!!

[HopeandGlory]

You're very welcome Miss Feather . . .goodnight once again . . . ;-)

[WayzataJOHNN]

Howdy one and all,

How are you doing?

I'm back from steamboating, and feeling fine! (Having the day 20 degrees cooler helped a lot!)

[WayzataJOHNN]

Hello?


hello?



Hello, anyone???????








Oh well, off to bed work starts early!

[Soaring Feather]

Arrrrr matey! I was in me bunk after a long hot day!
How was the trip on the high seas matey??
Did ya bring in a hugh booty??
Arrrrrrr!!

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning everyone.

[laurenmarlowe]

Good evening Ms. Feather!

The Rose
by Richard Lovelace

Sweet serene sky-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long cloudy bed
Shoot forth thy damask head!

New-startled blush of Flora,
The grief of pale Aurora,
Who will contest no more,
Haste, haste to strew her floor!

Vermilion ball that's given
From lip to lip in heaven,
Love's couch's coverlet,
Haste, haste to make her bed!

Dear offspring of pleased Venus
And jolly plump Silenus,
Haste, haste to deck the hair
Of the only sweetly fair!

See! rosy is her bower,
Her floor is all this flower;
Her bed a rosy nest
By a bed of roses pressed.

But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright tresses?
Ah! I have found, I fear, -
Because her cheeks are near.

[Soaring Feather]

Oh, a gorgeous poem this evening, thank you ms. marlowe.

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning everyone.

[Soaring Feather]

*---- Quote of the Day ----*

I'm doing what I think I was put on this earth to do. And
I'm really grateful to have something that I'm passionate
about and that I think is profoundly important.
--Marian Wright Edelman

Bonus Quote

What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret
than our willingness to choose life.
--Leo Buscaglia

[StarCMC]

Politically Incorrect

Can't say sheila, dame or bird.
Baldy, shorty, fatty, lanky.
Froggy, Eytie, Pommy, Yankee
Jeez I'm getting' bloody cranky.

Honey, darlin' they're not on sir
Gotta say it circumspectly
Sweetheart, sexy. Hell, I'm a gone sir
Not said politically correctly.

To win the heart of a sweet lady
And stay politically correct
Can't be sleezy, oily, shady
Cannot have me romance wrecked

I shall do it so politely
I'll learn meself another lingo.
Buona mattina voi tessoro
Comment disparait amoureux

There ya go that sounds better
Real polite, romantic too
Now go over to your web translator
Translation, folks is up to you
 

Copyright; Henderson Q. Goldfischer
Email: mccartanal@aol.com

 

[Soaring Feather]

Good poem, thanks Star.


And that is what has screwed up so many men.

[laurenmarlowe]

Good evening Ms. Feather.

Shadow River: Muskoka
by E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake)

A stream of tender gladness,
Of filmy sun, and opal tinted skies ;
Of warm midsummer air that lightly lies
In mystic rings,
Where softly swings
The music of a thousand wings
That almost tones to sadness.

Midway 'twixt earth and heaven,
A bubble in the pearly air I seem
To float upon the sapphire floor, a dream
Of clouds of snow,
Above, below,
Drift with my drifting, dim and slow,
As twilight drifts to even.

The little fern-leaf, bending
Upon the brink, its green reflection greets,
And kisses soft the shadow that it meets
With touch so fine,
The border line
The keenest vision can't define ;
So perfect is the blending.

The far, fir trees that cover
The brownish hills with needles green and gold,
The arching elms o'erhead, vinegrown and old,
Repictured are
Beneath me far,
Where not a ripple moves to mar
Shades underneath, or over.

Mine is the undertone ;
The beauty, strength, and power of the land
Will never stir or bend at my command ;
But all the shade
Is marred or made,
If I but dip my paddle blade ;
And it is mine alone.

O! pathless world of seeming!
O! pathless life of mine whose deep ideal
Is more my own than ever was the real.
For others Fame
And Love's red flame,
And yellow gold : I only claim
The shadows and the dreaming.

[Soaring Feather]

Oh my gosh, this is beautiful. Such wonderful images. Thank You, ms. marlowe.

[laurenmarlowe]

I thought it was pretty too.

E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake) was the daughter of a Mohawk chief.

[HopeandGlory]

America the Beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.

Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.

Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine,
Choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain.

From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray.

We've kept God in our temples,
how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.

We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges
who throw reason out the door,

Too soft to place a killer
in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.

You think that God's not angry,
that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes?

How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide?

If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:

Then God will hear from Heaven
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within.

But, America the Beautiful,
if you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God
withdraw His hand from Thee.

~Judge Roy Moore

[Soaring Feather]

So true, thank you, HopeandGlory for posting this poem.

[laurenmarlowe]

That's very powerful Hope, WOW! Thanks for sharing with us.

[HopeandGlory]

A KOSOVAN'S POEM

Ode of an asylum seeker.

I come for visit, get treated regal,
So I stay, who care I illegal?
I cross border, poor and broke,
Take bus, see employment folk.
Nice man treat me good in there,
Say I need to see welfare.
Welfare say, "You come no more,
We send plenty cash right to your door."
Welfare cheques, they make you wealthy,
NHS, it keep you healthy!
By and by, I got plenty money,
Thanks to you, British dummy.
Write to friends in motherland,
Tell them come as fast as you can.
They come in rags on the back of trucks,
I buy big house with welfare bucks.
They come here, we live together,
More welfare cheques, it gets better!
Fourteen families they moving in,
But neighbour's patience wearing thin.
Finally, British guy moves away,
Now I buy his house, and then I say,
"Find more aliens for house to rent."
And in the yard I put a tent.
Send for family (they just trash),
But they, too, draw the welfare cash!
Everything is mucho good,
And soon we own the neighbourhood.

We have hobby - it's called breeding,
Welfare pay for baby feeding.
Kids need dentist? Wife need pills?
We get free! We got no bills!
Britishman crazy! He pay all year,
To keep us illegals in comfort here.
We think UK is very good place!
Much too good for the British race.
If they not like us, they can go,
There's lots of room elsewhere you know....

Hello Miss Feather . . .I've been cleaning out my old e-mails and found these two gems . . .very timely, no???

[Soaring Feather]

Indeed, indeed. The welfare grabbers get my goat more ways than loose I'll tell you.

Disgusting.