Free Verse Fable Poetry

A cool breeze,

brushes my brown hair.

Dismantling trees,

to bleed leaves into the air.

An array of colors shows,

from a fall and winter mix.

Shriveled rose pedals,

with completely naked sticks.

How fair must it be,

to bare nature's cold adversity?

It better be winter hardy,

showing its diversity to be, or not to be!

The stars faded snail like,

as daylight plays peak a boo.

The crickets chanted in the night,

until the rooster cock a doodle do!

The sun gradually turns a cheek.

Another side of the world fall asleep.

Gods paint brush imbue the sky,

depicting sequence to the human mind.

Birds chirping,

with blue skies up high.

A cool breeze,

brushes the flower pedals outside.

The sun,

bribes my neck with warmth.

The perfect setting,

for one to write his worth.

A panther stride,

shedding grace and confidence.

Its foot leave a paw print,

into the gravy Amazon Mud.

The cats glowing white eyes,

viewing the night skies above.

Its ears hear nothing,

just peace and love.

An anaconda wait in preparation.

Mother nature know little,

of thought and hesitation.

Within seconds the panther,

Is circled tight as a screw.

Feeling its bones break,

crushing them into two!

Like twigs in October,

frail to cold winter blues.

Left behind from the pressure,

is the Panthers one eye.

It popped out like the sun,

breaking through the cloudy skies.

Burnt into the Panthers rectum,

is the last sight it saw.

Only Mother nature has the video,

due to copyright purposes and the law.

A creepy poisonous spider,

very swiftly approaches one's leg.

"Be gone" the young man said,

kicking the spider in the head!

Lounging with no mercy,

only to impinge its venomous pain,

unloading an impetuous force into the veins.

A poison that didn't take effect right away.

Days later his skin becomes ablaze.

Stumbling in a cold sweaty phase,

collapsing into a state of shock.

Perishing at an accelerated speed,

thinking of times past and unfinished dreams.

"To die like this I do not deserve,"

he says declining to his demise.

The mans eyes slowly close,

like a candle burning down low.

For the last sound indented in his head,

were the eight legs dragging on his cranium.

From a Creepy Crawling Tarantula!

A Starfish glided in the sea.

Roamed an eternity

in the depths of the Ocean it seamed.

One day, it coasted in with the drift

sliding through a seam of algae rocks.

Clung on,

stuck at 4' O clock,

The hour of its death

chime my coo coo clock!

Lying next to a tree,

it flew right by my right knee.

A buzzing caught my ear,

mumbling a sweet song in the air.

A glare sparkled the river,

perceiving beauty to my eyes.

Next to me was the flowers surprise.

I guess only the Bumble bee knows what's inside!

The sun rays parched the hills,

squinting rivers so vastly filled.

Beavers peaked out dams built,

as a helpless trout turn stiff as a stilt.

Humidity has no recollection,

of rocks gone bare in the streams.

Yet, the frogs stood bold a week,

until finally, the cumulus clouds sprang a leak.

How lonely be the tree,

surrounded by acres of green?

Visitors are rarely seen,

where the Blue Jay tends to be!

Two butterflies tango and mangled each other,

down an angled path to an unknown stream.

Arrived in a secret garden, Elysium,

the vast field of their everlasting dreams.

I tried to emulate the seam,

except, it was to small for a human being to be.

The journey was like chasing speed,

circling around flowers with the Bumble Bee!

The Harebell fit into her girdle,

like a shell perfectly shape a turtle.

The sun sets high,

illuminating every inch in the valleys that hide.

Inside the shade I see a butterfly split the seam.

Vanishing off to Elysium never to be seen!

Oh where could you be?

If I die,

this was all a dream;

Could I recollect,

every poem I conceived?

Would Elysium spare a desk,

in a cluttered mess of beauty?

To a simple unknown poet,

that shed light like the sun's duty.

Or, was it all make believe?

Put together by power.

To controller a world of animals,

that devour, turn sour and breed!

I can run just like the wind blows.

Ask the thistle,

as it whistles when I go by.

I move like the Ocean tide.

I glide like a surfer,

catching a sweet ride.

I am just a nose ,unknown,

that never took a dive.

I am slick like a kid,

flying down a slide.

I tend to set myself apart,

anytime I create poetic art.

I select words with care

to keep the spark in the air!

I live in a bubble.

So I tend to have trouble,

just communicating with others.

All I know is a rather soothing flow.

An appealing sound,

that me and the Ocean waves know.

A devotion to write poetry,

running deep as the blue seas.

One day, maybe,

the world will know of me.

I choose innovative words.

That belong together,

like a flock of birds.

They stick together,

now matter the weather.

We are in this thing forever,

fulfilling a great poetic endeavor!

Until, the day I die,

poetry remain strong as oak; alive!

Inside my head,

are poets I read, dead.

When I read their heart,

I wonder just how far we are apart?

I just do my part,

displaying a heart of poetic art.

Trying to fit in,

like an animal on Noah's Ark.

Except, there is little room,

for a great white shark!

So I decide to be a fly,

buying time on Socrates' wall.

He, eventually, saw me fly away,

after a butterfly evolved one day.

So beautiful and full of color.

A lethal weapon, Danny Glover!