*This is a repeat post
ATTENTION! Do you think you can write a good Vaquita poem? Let’s find out! I’m creating a Vaquita poetry contest for you! Write the best poem you can, and submit it in the comment section. If my fellow judges and I think your poem is really outstanding, I will use it as one of my future poems, giving you full credit. There can be multiple winners. The deadline is 12:00 am on January 10, 2012. I hope to read some great poems!
Christmas Special!
‘Twas the night before V-mas,
And all through the pod
Vaquita were gossiping,
With whispers and nods.
The fish were packed in the coral with care,
In hopes that St. Blue Whale would soon be there.
The calves all rested on the water’s surface,
But they couldn’t sleep because they were nervous.
The parents set out the croakers and milk,
And lay on their seabeds, softer than silk.
When up on the surface arose such a splash
That sounded like Narwhals in heated clash.
Papa V swam to the top like a jet.
And guess who was there? Guess whom he met?
St. Blue Whale, floating with a smirk.
Warm eyes and a smile, he couldn’t be a jerk.
He had eight antsy dolphins pulling his reins,
And a sack full of treats like seaweed canes.
He left some presents under the Christmas Reef,
And called to his dolphins, “Now Swimmer, now Spinner, now Breacher and Sleef,
On Logger, on Ringer, on Pinger and Turf!”
And St. Whale and his pod swam off in the surf.
ATTENTION! Do you think you can write a good Vaquita poem? Let’s find out! I’m creating a Vaquita poetry contest for you! Write the best poem you can, and submit it in the comment section. If my fellow judges and I think your poem is really outstanding, I will use it as one of my future poems, giving you full credit. There can be multiple winners. The deadline is 12:00 am on January 10, 2012. I hope to read some great poems!
Fourth and final in a 4-part series: Death
As you know, every great thing must end.
Do not dread death, just savor time you spend
With family and friends, and even foes.
Life is more powerful than anyone knows,
But death ends life much faster than a cheetah.
How does this relate? Let’s meet our Vaquita.
He loves his life, frolicking with loved ones.
He lives with parents, daughters, and their sons.
La Vaquita is living his life at its best,
Everything’s perfect, this Vaquita is blessed.
Think about something while he thinks about fish:
There must be a reason this is called what it is.
Ok, fine, I’ll go back to the story.
While the pod is living in glory,
They dive and blow and breach and float.
But just ’round the corner approaches a boat.
Our little Vaquita sees a school of fish,
He dashes towards the boat, that he didn’t I wish.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he gets caught in the net,
He rolls frantically and starts to fret.
His heart stops.
He’s gone.
But do not dread death, here’s what some say:
Life after death is just another day.
This may be true for some forms of life,
But not so with the Vaquita’s strife.
The Gulf without the Vaquita is like a forest without moss.
When one Vaquita dies, the entire species may be lost.
Halt thou mesh-made catcher
Of thee porpoise, fair and just!
With coal eyes, and
Slate flanks, and
A slight hint of rust.
In azul waters
They sulk about,
Avoiding thou mesh-made catchers.
And they, in the end,
Will ultimately gain pity.
The sea rose, engulfing the boat.
Water pouring in, twas impossible to float.
Lightning pounding, thunder resounding,
The clouds came rolling in,
Like a field of wheat in the breeze.
Finally, it was time to begin.
I unrolled the nets, set out the floats,
Baited the trap, and then let go.
About this story I have wrote
To inform you, one who has found my boat,
That on this day, a small porpoise got trapped in my nets.
Going shrimping on this day is an action I regret.
No one should set out their nets.
A fin proudly breaks the surface, creating a ripple,
Attracting gulls, scaring fish.
The fin slowly declines, again creating a wake.
When all seems lost, it will reappear.
V-log 