Showing posts with label Fred Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fred Brown. Show all posts
A Seagull's Prayer - Fred Brown
Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in August 2012
Footsteps fade on the sand runway
Through moon flight control and the tidal phase
Feathers shed from wayward courses
To new heights on the back of white horses
Spiralling round on thermals to heaven
Shores below left for dusk to redden
Crying laughter at the top of my voice
Till the oceans whisper without choice
Sail through me till my soul sings
With sunbeam wind-chimes under my wings
Breathe fluency into each wing flap
Till I soar with you over each mishap
Above dead suns, pink ice-sheets melting
Beyond bloated mountains, rainclouds pelting
To leave no trail of where I have flown
To let parted clouds be re-sewn
To lose trodden seashells to the tide
To live the rest of my life wide-eyed
Footsteps fade on the sand runway
Clear for landing on a brand new day
Fred Brown
Labels:
birds,
Fred Brown,
Poem,
Prayer
A Seagull's Prayer - Fred Brown
Footsteps fade on the sand runway
Through moon flight control and the tidal phase
Feathers shed from wayward courses
To new heights on the back of white horses
Spiralling round on thermals to heaven
Shores below left for dusk to redden
Crying laughter at the top of my voice
Till the oceans whisper without choice
Sail through me till my soul sings
With sunbeam wind-chimes under my wings
Breathe fluency into each wing flap
Till I soar with you over each mishap
Above dead suns, pink ice-sheets melting
Beyond bloated mountains, rainclouds pelting
To leave no trail of where I have flown
To let parted clouds be re-sewn
To lose trodden seashells to the tide
To live the rest of my life wide-eyed
Footsteps fade on the sand runway
Clear for landing on a brand new day
Fred Brown
Through moon flight control and the tidal phase
Feathers shed from wayward courses
To new heights on the back of white horses
Spiralling round on thermals to heaven
Shores below left for dusk to redden
Crying laughter at the top of my voice
Till the oceans whisper without choice
Sail through me till my soul sings
With sunbeam wind-chimes under my wings
Breathe fluency into each wing flap
Till I soar with you over each mishap
Above dead suns, pink ice-sheets melting
Beyond bloated mountains, rainclouds pelting
To leave no trail of where I have flown
To let parted clouds be re-sewn
To lose trodden seashells to the tide
To live the rest of my life wide-eyed
Footsteps fade on the sand runway
Clear for landing on a brand new day
Fred Brown
Labels:
Animals,
Fred Brown,
Poem,
Prayer
Cheesy Metaphors About Life - Fred Brown
Cheesy metaphors about life.
They might smell bad but they taste quite nice.
What you're about to hear may smell so wrong
But try and taste honestly through the pong.
Time is like swiss cheese, some say holy
And gobbled up quick like guacamole.
Use it most on your favourite dishes
To satisfy your hungriest wishes.
Some folks like tomato sauce
With everything from dessert to main course.
Others eat fish eggs on their motorbike -
Whatever you want! Whatever you like!
Think of a day like a cafe venue.
Each minute reads like a fancy menu.
Italian, Mexican or Chinese
There's time to try all delicacies.
You can fill each year from sea to sky
With a chocolate life-time supply.
Or Take 1 second and wrap it up
To savour like a Chupa Chup.
After you've eaten, how much will you tip?
Are you grateful for the taste on your lips?
Try to imagine when there's no more to eat -
Are you happy with the window seat?
If you look at an ocean full of salt
And can only see its fishy faults
Then I'd say you haven't got it.
There's a skeleton in your food closet.
But if you can spread honey on your hell-burnt toast
And give all your bananas to the chimp hurt most,
Then I'd say you're halfway there.
The stars are like sprinkles in the air.
Try eating a bowl of cereal.
Life's like that but more funereal.
Before you reach the bottom don't forget
That what you give is what you get.
Most people on this fruitful Earth
Will have their share of daily bread dearths.
It's hard to realise picnic baskets
In things hard to swallow like woe and caskets.
So when it's raining, try a cup.
It could quench your soul when next fed up.
When thunder's rumbling in your belly,
Welcome it like a wobbly jelly.
Hearts that grow cold, empty and rigid,
Are similar in description to new fridges.
Try some salad in there, baby milk or butter.
Hearts can find purpose with healthier clutter.
Being kind and being nice
Should be as common as plain white rice.
If you understand your neighbour's diet
It decreases the chance of a food fight riot.
And being right or being the best
Is not as important as feeding a guest.
If my tongue is bitter, give me a mint!
At least when I talk my breath won't stink.
Digesting this poem could be flabbergasting.
But a good cheese is often everlasting.
If you leave it for a while on the shelf, don't worry.
I'm quite the fussy eater myself. Sorry!
Fred Brown
They might smell bad but they taste quite nice.
What you're about to hear may smell so wrong
But try and taste honestly through the pong.
Time is like swiss cheese, some say holy
And gobbled up quick like guacamole.
Use it most on your favourite dishes
To satisfy your hungriest wishes.
Some folks like tomato sauce
With everything from dessert to main course.
Others eat fish eggs on their motorbike -
Whatever you want! Whatever you like!
Think of a day like a cafe venue.
Each minute reads like a fancy menu.
Italian, Mexican or Chinese
There's time to try all delicacies.
You can fill each year from sea to sky
With a chocolate life-time supply.
Or Take 1 second and wrap it up
To savour like a Chupa Chup.
After you've eaten, how much will you tip?
Are you grateful for the taste on your lips?
Try to imagine when there's no more to eat -
Are you happy with the window seat?
If you look at an ocean full of salt
And can only see its fishy faults
Then I'd say you haven't got it.
There's a skeleton in your food closet.
But if you can spread honey on your hell-burnt toast
And give all your bananas to the chimp hurt most,
Then I'd say you're halfway there.
The stars are like sprinkles in the air.
Try eating a bowl of cereal.
Life's like that but more funereal.
Before you reach the bottom don't forget
That what you give is what you get.
Most people on this fruitful Earth
Will have their share of daily bread dearths.
It's hard to realise picnic baskets
In things hard to swallow like woe and caskets.
So when it's raining, try a cup.
It could quench your soul when next fed up.
When thunder's rumbling in your belly,
Welcome it like a wobbly jelly.
Hearts that grow cold, empty and rigid,
Are similar in description to new fridges.
Try some salad in there, baby milk or butter.
Hearts can find purpose with healthier clutter.
Being kind and being nice
Should be as common as plain white rice.
If you understand your neighbour's diet
It decreases the chance of a food fight riot.
And being right or being the best
Is not as important as feeding a guest.
If my tongue is bitter, give me a mint!
At least when I talk my breath won't stink.
Digesting this poem could be flabbergasting.
But a good cheese is often everlasting.
If you leave it for a while on the shelf, don't worry.
I'm quite the fussy eater myself. Sorry!
Fred Brown
Labels:
Fred Brown,
Observations,
Poem
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