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Love Poems About Quail or Quail Love Poems
by Timothy Brumley |
Categories: animals, faith, inspirational, naturelove, i love you,

Three Messengers

This morning I hiked a wooded trail
And while quietly strolling along,
I was pleased to hear a lonely quail
A singing his mournful song.

And then again this afternoon
While drawing water from the well
A loon began it's soothing croon
That echoed 'cross the dell.

And in the evening as I dined
While resting in the swing
A mockingbird was very kind
To perch close by and sing.

Then later, as I knelt to pray
In telling God, "I love You"
That, I wished to hear Him say
Just once, He loved me too.

Then Father spoke! "Don't you know?
My son of course I love you too!
I sent couriers today to tell you so
Did my three messengers not find you?"


                            Timothy I. Brumley


by Stephen Kilmer |
Categories: lost love,

3rd of November

3rd of November
Sleepy day
Ragweed and bitters
Time drips away
Spigot of rum
Rotten limes
In the sink
Missed you again
Newspaper flies
Obits and sports
Lay in the dirt
Dog barks next door
What the hell for?
Cigarettes and coke
Scattered like quail
Across the coffee table
TV is on 
CNBC
The news is not good
I missed you again
10 days have gone 
Since you left
I can’t get right
This buzz in my head
Adrift and alone
I call on the phone
To a voice I don’t know
Says you’re not all alone
Day turns to night
The “friends” reappear
Another night of whiskey and beer
I hope when I wake 
I won’t have missed you again
You are so damn allusive
This life you call dear

by Carma Reed |
Categories: passionlove, drug,

Stealing Oxygen

Stealing Oxygen

with seduction, i quail to touch 
n' play, sensually displaying 
your body, vividly distinctively, 
cross examines the moisture of 
my lips, stealing oxygen, 
deeply under hypnotized vision, 
I dare not awake, the passage 
of my drug, for it is the love 
that ponders our souls, so tru 
n' rare, through my veins, to 
never lose it...pumping through 
your veins I charge...in and out 
you heart by large...at times 
slipping into 
ventricle...dispensing oxygen 
from lungs...collateral artery 
slit this time, love splattered 
spectacle...making me feel 
impeccable...

Carma Reed
01-22-13

by David Smalling |
Categories: caregiving, write, write,

Why do I write

I do not know why I write again
But I know 
I do not write for schoolboys
You think nights are diamond studded 
Black lace,
I do not write for fawning girls who
Adore sunsets, but grimace
At the thought of umbilicals and blood.
I do not write for old ladies
Gardening, and pulling up weeds
While let the protected serpents live.
I write only for the undefiled,
Those who see sin and start a forest fire
Burning evil in its desire
I write for love of children
And the rivers in their eyes I long to sail
Hunting abusers like men hunt the quail.
O but tell me,
Why do I write again? Why?

by Paula Larson |
Categories: hope, love, love,

SCALE

Some height's affirm, some gracious earn
is in my knowing no return
from loving you ~ as need's confirm
their semblance from consent's own yearn.

I love you, as to weigh in scale
were heaviness to its entail
and then some lightness, leading's hail
while spirit's ebbing filled avail.

With promises, strength's prowess failed
found wholeness in His will, not trail.
As quietness utters no exhale
defensively presided bail.

To hold thee fast ensuring quail
could not condemn us, ail to ail.
This word of life called love is scale
that settles measures erstwhile stale.

By its own premise pulls impale
to justice willing, Godly tale!

by Roof Missing |
Categories: love,

The Human Pendulum

Why's the "Left" at times viewed as a meddlesome brigand,
And, "Golden Rule" seem such a stretch for our race?
Is it "Right" to hate most the folks (you haven't met yet),
Why's "Fear" such big deal in a world "Blessed by" Grace?

Why do some hate the thought ALL deserve a flat playfield?
Or quail when a friend fares much better than you?
Can't we celebrate smart folks who float all boats higher,
And let go of jealousies clouding our view?

Can a human who vacillates say they've found answer?
Ripe fruit in maturity sways in the wind.
And can you save yourself (with soul dying of cancer)?
Unless you endorse my dreams, you're no one's friend.


Long Tooth
April 3, 2018


by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: art,

Sassy and Sultry from the Twenties

Sassy and sultry from the twenties
Not these twenties, those twenties.
She shows an arrogance unseen for a century.
I am in love with her pearled quail feathered headdress.
Vibrant and alive, she wows me in the best of ways.
Her art deco owl oversees her unique awesomeness.
I feel pride as her artist. She is the ultimate in sass!