Showing posts with label Poems about Nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems about Nature. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

A Point-and-Won't-Shoot Camera - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Point-and-Won’t-Shoot Camera

 

The concept of the point-and-shoot camera obtains

But a Me-‘Phone camera doesn’t see it that way

I stopped to watch a bug-grazing bird

Who approached me as if she wanted to visit

 

I took out my Me-‘Phone for a photograph

And it didn’t recognize my handsome face

And I had to tap a four-digit code

And the bird grew suspicious and flew away

 

O Egret, in your beautiful brown and white -

I truly understand your need for flight

Monday, July 28, 2025

High-Pressure Dome in a Coffee Cup - poem about summer heat

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

High-Pressure Dome in a Coffee Cup

 

Blue light - an illusion of comfort at dawn

The streaky windows frame a winter day

Illusions and delusions lying to us

For this is July, when hopes wither and die

 

The sun’s tentacles ripple across the fields

One of them slithers to your window and leers

Mocking the fantasies of your air-conditioned sleep

Beckoning you outside: come and be fried

 

The sun’s hot streakings, mortals seeking, they roam

As summer’s slithering death: a high-pressure dome

Saturday, September 28, 2024

An All-You-Can-Eat Buffet of Summer Bugs poem

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

An All-You-Can-Eat Buffet of Summer Bugs

 

(He was small in the spring)

 

When a tree frog moves up in the world

He becomes a fashionable window frog

No longer the pain of a rough tree bark life

But rather the pane of easy living

 

(He grew larger during the summer)

 

My bedroom window is his buffet

An all-he-can-eat buffet of bugs

Delicious summer bugs shared around

With an uncommon house gecko of style

 

(He’s really big now)

 

I look out at a hungry tree frog, you see

But now – is he looking hungrily in at me?

Monday, July 15, 2024

Fire Ants Devouring the Corpses of Unhatched Wasps - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Fire Ants Devouring the Corpses of Unhatched Wasps

 

Nature does not, in the long run, favour life.

 

-C. S. Lewis, “On Living in an Atomic Age,” 1948

 

A formation of formicidae trekked north-northwest

Across a vast and lonely sunbeaten expanse

Their imperial quest a fallen wasps’ nest

Between a lawn chair and a potted plant

 

The ants greedily ripped open the paper shells

Like Christmas crackers for the goodies inside

The ghastly drippings of pupae in their jaws

Fragments of dead wasplings for their demanding queen

 

A formation of formicidae trekked east-southeast -

What, then, is the number of an unnumbered beast?

I Am Spartacus! (Okay, Maybe Not) - doggerel

  Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com Dispatches for the Colonial Office   I Am Spartacus! (Okay, Maybe Not)   I am not Spartacus! ...