"cowbells" poems - Hello Poetry

We set out to honor Mary traveling the pilgrim's path from west to east We walked, we rode the bus entertained and enchanted by Cristina applauding Ramon along the way. Each day was one of prayer and song, sunshine and fellowship rosaries and novena we submitted petitions to Santiago we laughed with San Serapio From the grand and magnificent cathedrals to the humblest village chapel we grew in faith, hearing God's word in many languages. We marveled at the dedication and stamina of the pilgrims making their way on foot and bicycle at the warmth, generosity, and hospitality they receive along the way We picknicked alongside mountain streams enjoying good food, good wine,and good friendship we walked down the hillsides in the hot sunshine passing the pilgrims going the opposite way we quenched our thirst in a quaint and rustic village tavern. Ramon drove with skill up the mountains to Garabandal a remote village suspended in time and beauty there on the mountain top we sat among the pines where Mary had appeared. We sat in silence, in awe and reverence the only sounds, the whisper of the breeze and the cowbells on the hillside We prayed the rosary It was, for most of us, a most special memory From our bus we looked out at the mountains the green and rolling farmland at the rocky Atlantic coast at the rios and the rias. We walked in procession at Fatima and Lourdes by candlelight and moonlight and again in the brilliant sunshine The voices and the church bells carried across the plazas enveloping us in joy and prayer and mysticism It was at the grotto at Lourdes with my hands pressed on the rocky cave wall with the holy water on my hands that I felt Mary's presence Mary, my mother, my sister, my friend AVE MARIA September, 2008

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Dec 26, 2012

Dec 26, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC

sandra-bourbeau

The Pilgrim's Path

We set out to honor Mary traveling the pilgrim's path from west to east We walked, we rode the bus entertained and enchanted by Cristina applauding Ramon along the way. Each day was one of prayer and song, sunshine and fellowship rosaries and novena we submitted petitions to Santiago we laughed with San Serapio From the grand and magnificent cathedrals to the humblest village chapel we grew in faith, hearing God's word in many languages. We marveled at the dedication and stamina of the pilgrims making their way on foot and bicycle at the warmth, generosity, and hospitality they receive along the way We picknicked alongside mountain streams enjoying good food, good wine,and good friendship we walked down the hillsides in the hot sunshine passing the pilgrims going the opposite way we quenched our thirst in a quaint and rustic village tavern. Ramon drove with skill up the mountains to Garabandal a remote village suspended in time and beauty there on the mountain top we sat among the pines where Mary had appeared. We sat in silence, in awe and reverence the only sounds, the whisper of the breeze and the cowbells on the hillside We prayed the rosary It was, for most of us, a most special memory From our bus we looked out at the mountains the green and rolling farmland at the rocky Atlantic coast at the rios and the rias. We walked in procession at Fatima and Lourdes by candlelight and moonlight and again in the brilliant sunshine The voices and the church bells carried across the plazas enveloping us in joy and prayer and mysticism It was at the grotto at Lourdes with my hands pressed on the rocky cave wall with the holy water on my hands that I felt Mary's presence Mary, my mother, my sister, my friend AVE MARIA September, 2008

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The grass is so green Down in the meadow Beside the glistening stream A cowbell rings Tolling for lovers Beside the sparkling water. Our fingers touch and A shock jolts our bodies As we tremble with passion. The air is hot and still. Nature's sounds are magnified As we reach for each other. Fumbling with our clothes We caress one another With hot lips and sweet kisses. The fragrance of crushed grass Mingles with the scent of wild roses As the sun heats our naked flesh. Lying together on our blanket, We make love with an urgency That takes our breath away. Afterwards, we lay side by side, Holding hands, touching And whispering our love. That romantic summer's day, Filled with joy and delight, And so many years ago.

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Feb 25, 2013

Feb 25, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC

gordi-turnbull

COWBELLS RING

The grass is so green Down in the meadow Beside the glistening stream A cowbell rings Tolling for lovers Beside the sparkling water. Our fingers touch and A shock jolts our bodies As we tremble with passion. The air is hot and still. Nature's sounds are magnified As we reach for each other. Fumbling with our clothes We caress one another With hot lips and sweet kisses. The fragrance of crushed grass Mingles with the scent of wild roses As the sun heats our naked flesh. Lying together on our blanket, We make love with an urgency That takes our breath away. Afterwards, we lay side by side, Holding hands, touching And whispering our love. That romantic summer's day, Filled with joy and delight, And so many years ago.

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Home was the sound of the djembe As the beat of the cowbells Joins the grooving melody Filling the world Black girl braids Flying And jiving Feet bouncing and flouncing Create a music of their own Home was the timbre of the chop saw As the purr of the transformers Joined by the flare of the drill Screamo blares Loving And teasing Voices filling up the room The family dinner song Home was The Bumble bee tuna As sung by tone deaf voices And endless refrains Fill in the void That was never open A harmony And chorus Of Wandering pitches Home was The aroma of a chai latte As fresh air hit our faces Joining the snickerdoodle scent a lunchtime escapade music blaring heat blasting laughs trilling (Stanza Break) Home was The feeling of love As you walk into your family Join those you love those you cherish and feel safe

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Sep 30, 2014

Sep 30, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC

nolia-joy

Home (was)

Home was the sound of the djembe As the beat of the cowbells Joins the grooving melody Filling the world Black girl braids Flying And jiving Feet bouncing and flouncing Create a music of their own Home was the timbre of the chop saw As the purr of the transformers Joined by the flare of the drill Screamo blares Loving And teasing Voices filling up the room The family dinner song Home was The Bumble bee tuna As sung by tone deaf voices And endless refrains Fill in the void That was never open A harmony And chorus Of Wandering pitches Home was The aroma of a chai latte As fresh air hit our faces Joining the snickerdoodle scent a lunchtime escapade music blaring heat blasting laughs trilling (Stanza Break) Home was The feeling of love As you walk into your family Join those you love those you cherish and feel safe

46

Rhythmic beats, Rain drops fall. -listen to them all Steady in pace, Not missing a sound Hitting my roof, Hitting the ground. Wind like an orchestra, Howls from the side. Rain crashing on my window Like hitting a cowbells side. Trees shaking, As drops hit their leaves. Making beautiful tones, Sounds of tambourines. Rhythmic sounds peacefully there Painting pictures as I sleep, All night I could stare.

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Jun 19, 2014

Jun 19, 2014 at 4:49 AM UTC

garyb

Nature's tune (a symphonic piece)

Rhythmic beats, Rain drops fall. -listen to them all Steady in pace, Not missing a sound Hitting my roof, Hitting the ground. Wind like an orchestra, Howls from the side. Rain crashing on my window Like hitting a cowbells side. Trees shaking, As drops hit their leaves. Making beautiful tones, Sounds of tambourines. Rhythmic sounds peacefully there Painting pictures as I sleep, All night I could stare.

18

a cowboys life is honest and real nothing fake about the ride nothing fake about the feel you can tell a horseman not only by the time in the saddle but the stories he tells and the ringing of the cowbells no one knows how far a cowboy has to rome to find his home but his heart will be in the saddle and he'll tell you finding your soul is half the battle

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Nov 1, 2015

Nov 1, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC

kevin-kilby

cowboys life

a cowboys life is honest and real nothing fake about the ride nothing fake about the feel you can tell a horseman not only by the time in the saddle but the stories he tells and the ringing of the cowbells no one knows how far a cowboy has to rome to find his home but his heart will be in the saddle and he'll tell you finding your soul is half the battle

1

Period homesteads line Peppercorn Road , meticulous working farms of corn , cotton and sorghum cultivars , rugged gravel drives cut into dried , red clay ditches , Charleston architecture cooling her Summer residents . Double story barns with white washed brick silos , picket fences and blue ribbon cattle .. Sturdy Pole barns shelters surrounded in shamrock clover , the clanging of cowbells as Dairy cows return from her glistening fields ... Catfish feeding frenzies over field corn and evening mayflies , gas porch lights illuminate the family garden with activity in Summer well into night , Crowder peas and Fordhook butter beans , Okra and Butter peas harvested free of Red wasp and Bumblebees as opposed to hungry mosquitos , red chiggers and Crane flies ... Silver washtubs on hot , humid nights , the instant relief of cool well water relieving the pang of harvest .. The creaky screen door and porch ceiling fans , white rockers and good books ...Mason jars filled with sweet tea , hearts filled with adventure and young eyes with sleep .. Coonhounds sing to the ever rising gold Moon .. All was well .. All was most certainly well ...

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Mar 7, 2016

Mar 7, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Farm Nights ...

Period homesteads line Peppercorn Road , meticulous working farms of corn , cotton and sorghum cultivars , rugged gravel drives cut into dried , red clay ditches , Charleston architecture cooling her Summer residents . Double story barns with white washed brick silos , picket fences and blue ribbon cattle .. Sturdy Pole barns shelters surrounded in shamrock clover , the clanging of cowbells as Dairy cows return from her glistening fields ... Catfish feeding frenzies over field corn and evening mayflies , gas porch lights illuminate the family garden with activity in Summer well into night , Crowder peas and Fordhook butter beans , Okra and Butter peas harvested free of Red wasp and Bumblebees as opposed to hungry mosquitos , red chiggers and Crane flies ... Silver washtubs on hot , humid nights , the instant relief of cool well water relieving the pang of harvest .. The creaky screen door and porch ceiling fans , white rockers and good books ...Mason jars filled with sweet tea , hearts filled with adventure and young eyes with sleep .. Coonhounds sing to the ever rising gold Moon .. All was well .. All was most certainly well ...

1

Sugar frosted sorghum fields , icing on divinity branch , conjures a few borrowed phrases scrambled in a Croaker sack . At latitude with a blue tick coonhound sneaking a peek through the brambles that twist through the hedgerows at a meek , timid mink with a playful eye on morning snow .. Curious Crow concerned with which way the wind blows , Eastern gray's curious as to why their shadows grow , chasing one another without a care at all , relax outside their sweet gum abode .. Milkers in the onion field led to proper pasture ..Cowbells break the chilly silence , Red rooster performs willy-nilly atop the pole barn .. Guineas spinning yarns about the other end of the farm , lively geese turning heads for miles around .. ******* jack beagles bray for the edge of the soybean field with no desire for corncake and hot cereal ..

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Jan 15, 2016

Jan 15, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Cold Magic Mornings

Sugar frosted sorghum fields , icing on divinity branch , conjures a few borrowed phrases scrambled in a Croaker sack . At latitude with a blue tick coonhound sneaking a peek through the brambles that twist through the hedgerows at a meek , timid mink with a playful eye on morning snow .. Curious Crow concerned with which way the wind blows , Eastern gray's curious as to why their shadows grow , chasing one another without a care at all , relax outside their sweet gum abode .. Milkers in the onion field led to proper pasture ..Cowbells break the chilly silence , Red rooster performs willy-nilly atop the pole barn .. Guineas spinning yarns about the other end of the farm , lively geese turning heads for miles around .. ******* jack beagles bray for the edge of the soybean field with no desire for corncake and hot cereal ..

6

*Meadowlarks in the canebrake Twilight hints with fuchsia trickery Animated waning Moon , sylvan troubadours in perfect tune September Season of the Witch , Barn Owls cry out in perfect pitch Starlings crowd field barns , Mockingbirds spin Ghostly yarns , brown leaves crumble in the eerie wind , Stallions whinny sending shivers across bare skin Cowbells clang in the pitch black night Coyotes howl from the hillside Tin roofs clap under their own power Wind chimes sparkle and call , hour after hour* ....

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Sep 5, 2016

Sep 5, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

The Ghost of Fall ....

*Meadowlarks in the canebrake Twilight hints with fuchsia trickery Animated waning Moon , sylvan troubadours in perfect tune September Season of the Witch , Barn Owls cry out in perfect pitch Starlings crowd field barns , Mockingbirds spin Ghostly yarns , brown leaves crumble in the eerie wind , Stallions whinny sending shivers across bare skin Cowbells clang in the pitch black night Coyotes howl from the hillside Tin roofs clap under their own power Wind chimes sparkle and call , hour after hour* ....

14

*Rhode Island Red rooster serenaded the mornings in lively duets with Farm tractors , cowbells , children laughing while rushing to catch the grade school bus Lively Herefords calling from misty bottoms Noisy , nosey Geese honking on a cool , clear Autumn The banter of Bantam hens setting eggs The aroma of bush- hogged fields , red Barns , Well houses and Tool sheds* ....

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Aug 7, 2016

Aug 7, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

My Morning Memory ...

*Rhode Island Red rooster serenaded the mornings in lively duets with Farm tractors , cowbells , children laughing while rushing to catch the grade school bus Lively Herefords calling from misty bottoms Noisy , nosey Geese honking on a cool , clear Autumn The banter of Bantam hens setting eggs The aroma of bush- hogged fields , red Barns , Well houses and Tool sheds* ....

5

The Moon was a coward on a humid , ominous , windy evening in April ! Security lights overwhelmed by pitch black night , coyote's were calling for the morning light .. Cowbells came alive , giving anxious cattle away ! Moving erratically , calling fanatically , huddled together quite alarmed by the weather ! The roosters began to crow , fooled by constant lightning , the hens awakened a bit frightened , sought the security of their nest box's .. Inquisitive turkey's stood in the rain ! The mule's and the hound dogs began to bray ! The ducks and the geese were quite happy in their element , the guinea's and the hogs rolled over ambivalent ! The storm came and went , the tree frogs hummed , the crickets kept time and the katydids strummed .. Spring stars returned , winds blew calm , the man on the Moon peeked out from the clouds !

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Nov 28, 2015

Nov 28, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Spring Storm

The Moon was a coward on a humid , ominous , windy evening in April ! Security lights overwhelmed by pitch black night , coyote's were calling for the morning light .. Cowbells came alive , giving anxious cattle away ! Moving erratically , calling fanatically , huddled together quite alarmed by the weather ! The roosters began to crow , fooled by constant lightning , the hens awakened a bit frightened , sought the security of their nest box's .. Inquisitive turkey's stood in the rain ! The mule's and the hound dogs began to bray ! The ducks and the geese were quite happy in their element , the guinea's and the hogs rolled over ambivalent ! The storm came and went , the tree frogs hummed , the crickets kept time and the katydids strummed .. Spring stars returned , winds blew calm , the man on the Moon peeked out from the clouds !

6

I’ll tell you. You can hear it on the map. At the window, on the terraces, clapping, yelling, cheering, jiggling piggy banks, blowing toy horns, banging pots and pans, even ringing some gone-very-far-astray cowbells. in their cars, honking horns, at the dinner table, inside, families with little kids cheering, while supper super cools, no matter. It is the moment of our everyday, when we thank those whose who risk their lives to save, so we may survive to live to see our children’s children thrive. the EMT’s, doctors, nurses, firemen, the police, even the subway & bus drivers, who take them to their jobs, and honor with extra banging and unsilenced tears for those who have passed in performance, their unseen courage is marked on our eyes, their extraordinary service to us is a forever medaled upon our skin, in our lungs, it is their air we breathe, freely... our living keepsake of their duty. 4/14/2020 7:30pm

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Apr 14, 2020

Apr 14, 2020 at 8:16 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

it’s 7:00pm, do you hear where my NY City is?

I’ll tell you. You can hear it on the map. At the window, on the terraces, clapping, yelling, cheering, jiggling piggy banks, blowing toy horns, banging pots and pans, even ringing some gone-very-far-astray cowbells. in their cars, honking horns, at the dinner table, inside, families with little kids cheering, while supper super cools, no matter. It is the moment of our everyday, when we thank those whose who risk their lives to save, so we may survive to live to see our children’s children thrive. the EMT’s, doctors, nurses, firemen, the police, even the subway & bus drivers, who take them to their jobs, and honor with extra banging and unsilenced tears for those who have passed in performance, their unseen courage is marked on our eyes, their extraordinary service to us is a forever medaled upon our skin, in our lungs, it is their air we breathe, freely... our living keepsake of their duty. 4/14/2020 7:30pm

26

Upon prima facie first blush me mind's eye all atwitter, sans long forgotten "FAKE" ****** exploits set mum (chrysos anthem) all aglitter, boot like short order cook I hapt tubby quickly realized trumpeting collusion, a near fatal collision course with Matthew Scott's antimatter caw zing friggin insomnia finding ma noggin scrambled likesome lithesome cockamamie critter whipped into frenzy like battered butter holy grits, alm manned in fight of ma life cause I haint acquitter baa (jaw edge), ah woe cup feeling hedged hog extremely bushed 'n bitter, this raging red bull inside me mind, now body wheeling wickety wack, lichen to moss elf gut seasonal litter bitta asthma - insides got balled into wah racket like quietly rioting unfetter herd plain tennis (see) hens, gone south tub bespatter ear rilly jawboning jabberwocky reducing gray matter, and all flesh sundered into meaty platter to pulverized, irradiated, cremated... faux fluffernutter batter analogous tummy Aunt Jemima's famous flapjacks, she fantastically fashioned better than Betty Crocker tossing spatulated glommed **** suitable as bonesetter high as the Taj Mahal, while she merrily jabbered, her native patois singsong blatter all this inaudible clatter muffled 10,000 maniacs mad as a hatter madly clangorous dinner cowbells aroused bacchanalian sybaritic skitter ring jitterbugging fantasies of barenaked ladies doth splutter as bedraggled, frazzled, grizzled...poetry like cocky rooster that did stutter!

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Mar 5, 2019

Mar 5, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Get Out Of My Head Mister Chatterbox!

Upon prima facie first blush me mind's eye all atwitter, sans long forgotten "FAKE" ****** exploits set mum (chrysos anthem) all aglitter, boot like short order cook I hapt tubby quickly realized trumpeting collusion, a near fatal collision course with Matthew Scott's antimatter caw zing friggin insomnia finding ma noggin scrambled likesome lithesome cockamamie critter whipped into frenzy like battered butter holy grits, alm manned in fight of ma life cause I haint acquitter baa (jaw edge), ah woe cup feeling hedged hog extremely bushed 'n bitter, this raging red bull inside me mind, now body wheeling wickety wack, lichen to moss elf gut seasonal litter bitta asthma - insides got balled into wah racket like quietly rioting unfetter herd plain tennis (see) hens, gone south tub bespatter ear rilly jawboning jabberwocky reducing gray matter, and all flesh sundered into meaty platter to pulverized, irradiated, cremated... faux fluffernutter batter analogous tummy Aunt Jemima's famous flapjacks, she fantastically fashioned better than Betty Crocker tossing spatulated glommed **** suitable as bonesetter high as the Taj Mahal, while she merrily jabbered, her native patois singsong blatter all this inaudible clatter muffled 10,000 maniacs mad as a hatter madly clangorous dinner cowbells aroused bacchanalian sybaritic skitter ring jitterbugging fantasies of barenaked ladies doth splutter as bedraggled, frazzled, grizzled...poetry like cocky rooster that did stutter!

49