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 Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: hope,

Angela the Archer

Angela the archer was a romantic, who shot cupid arrows.
Her family thought she was out hunting quail or duck.
She was matching up love matches in the land of Farrows.
The couples would stay together if she had the most luck.

Angela was given opportunity by Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love.
She would say, don’t match this young lady up with any old dope. 
This sage entity watched the activity from her throne room above. 
Angela always let the arrows fly, along with buckets of hope.

by Paula Goldsmith |
Categories: dog, food, love, moon,

Tall Tale

My big old dog had no tail
He laid around because he was frail
He ran away with June
Frisky living on the moon
Dinner is fried green and blue quail
Date Written:2/28/2022

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 
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 Sanderson |
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 and out 
you heart by times 
slipping into 
ventricle...dispensing oxygen 
from lungs...collateral artery 
slit this time, love splattered 
spectacle...making me feel 

Carma Reed

by Andrew Rakich |
Categories: best friend, blessing, character, feelings, love hurts, sad love, women,

To Me

To Me
To me she is beautiful
A demonic angel in black and white
To me she is delusional
She sees a Zebra but on a moonless night
To me she is exceptional
I've never met her equal
To me she is too ethical
She'd make Marcus Aurelius quail
To me she is a stripper
She stripped my heart bare and nailed it to the rock
To me she is a gangster
A tougher man than many with a ****
To me she is a poet
She turns words into knives that tear me up
To me she is a guru
She showed me the light, by breaking it up.
To me she is a child
Stands with a fist at a hard hard world
To me she is a woman
Stands as the priest at my heart's burial

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!

by Allan Terry |
Categories: 6th grade, business, change,

Suppa Board Reads

Come down to our national
Happy day celebration
Fried quail
Roasted game hens
Roasted pork loin
Smoked ribs and fresh ham
Deep fried sqaush ,zucchini green tomato
Cassorole, with lemons, onoins,, pareseam
And goat cheese.
Cherry and cream cheese turnovers
Garlicy mash potatoes
Canadian meat pies w/ some creole sou

She said am I ; 
Am I
It's been a ploy
To lore us here
Love meats
American Wrestling Alliance

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


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 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 Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade, 4th grade, 5th grade, 6th grade, 7th grade,

My Entertaining Friend Dale

Why would a monkey be riding a blue whale?
I stare at my imaginative friend, Dale.
I don’t know, I say.  Perhaps it was a quail?
He laughs, and flips into my lap his junk mail.

I’m not kidding he says. It is no tale.
As a best friend, he entertains me without fail.
That monkey hopped in a turquoise pail.
One thing about his stories, they are never stale.

There was pink polish on his biggest toenail.
I said “Next time, with you, I shall go sail.”
Then there was the talking parrot, with the robotic tail.
I always love being with my creative friend, Crazy Dale.

by Navya Dagar |
Categories: life, myth, mythology, old, people, poetry, song,

Legends of old

When little kids ask for stories Regale them of our lore and its glories. Listening with rapt notice Tales of champions and menaces. One and all exclaim with awe Hearing about our Gods. They don't die Live within us and fly. Burn like a phoenix Survive with their tactics. Look beyond the veil When the fiercest quail. Never lose their light Even in the darkest of nights. With a love so perfect They attack and protect. For the ones they care Their souls laid bare. Honor their word with pride Till their last glide. So hush, my child Heed the noble and wild. As all princes and peasants knelt before our legends.