Where was the Poetry contest? Found thanks

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LOL..no..that wasnt my poem..it was Mahonris....
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Chickadee

Eggs are in the incubator,
Temperature 100 exact.
I can't believe there's life in there
When there is infact.

For three weeks straight it's crazy,
Learning chicken facts.
If they are really in there
We sure cannot contact.

Day 21,they've broken out,
I can't believe they're well.
'Cause if you hatch out chickadees,
Only time will tell.

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Here's one of my faves:

The Floor Job (by Leonard Nathan)

When I pulled these lines up
stave by stave
I found in the dank below
a clutch of snakes churning.

Yellow rings
on beaded orange and black bands,
beautiful
and maybe poisonous.

I could have
broken their backs,
studied
or tamed them.

But laid back down
stave by stave
these lines
replacing only the bad ones,
which was my job.
 
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ok.. don't laugh..

Space by Dawn Suiter

At the window
alone at night
stars up above
moon so bright

My mind wanders
to that lonely place
possible inhabitance
one day in space

On the moon,
on the stars
one day Venus
maybe Mars

All I know
is what I care
for me one day
to be up there

My Mended Heart by Dawn Suiter

On a dark cloudless night
I peered into the sky
when I suddenly saw a shimmer of light
my heart could not deny

It glared upon the surface of love
that could not last
And pierced inside my broken heart
with memories I have of you

Its gleamy stream of rays
touched the teardrops falling down
as gently I wiped away the hurt
from which my heart was bound

I shivered as my heart grows
with dreams I have of you
And mended back my broken heart
that once was torn in two.


I wrote those when I was young.. I guess the words aren't all correct but they both just stay in my head.. all these years.
 
That's too funny CityGirl!

But I like snakes. And commonly do floor jobs. So that one just appeals to me.

Here's another one that you might like better. Also by Leonard Nathan, since I have the book out.


Yours Truly

Sometimes a wild thing
will walk right out of the woods
into your hands
and you, thinking of something else,
kneel and receive it
as if it were yours to stroke
from the very first
and then it's gone,
the after-color of fox fading
into the woods and the woods
darkening shut behind it
while you stare down at spread hands
measuring an emptiness
nothing else can fill

and this is love
and this is a judgement.
 
chicken wranglers and a sea of poop
bend your arm and grab the scoop
shovel for hours and free your will
plug your nose for it lingers still
once its clean your still not done
feed them again the circles begun
check for eggs and fry them well
or butcher and pluck time will tell
My freezer is full they do their part
to feed the kids and fuel the start
with only this question I will go
which was first, I just dont know
the egg or the chicken
It never will show
 

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