Quotes about moose, page 3
Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yes, during the pilot, they gave me a little toy from the shop. It's like three little moose in a boat, paddling. It's very cute. And I got to keep some of the clothes.
quote by Caroline Dhavernas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Zella
A broekn heart,
It is about the pain of love;
And like the lasting ally with prejudices.
Horse, snake, dolphin, jaguar, crow, cougar and moose!
I am Zella with a broken heart;
So watch your steps before you jump into the depths of love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Pillay
The chorus of criticism,
Tantamount at times like a coup;
But i am ill-treated and cheated like the ostrich.
Somebody is afraid of something,
But i am here with a smile on;
So bring in the last supplement of the case.
Pillay is my name and,
I am here to calm the moose that sings a song;
For it is time for me to use my head on this issue,
And like wingless-angels in the land of peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Only Yesterday
The magistrates,
To the recognition of the bard and the observance of the law;
But, there remains the keeping of the Sabbath.
Sheep, cattle, elk, goat, and antelope;
Buffalo, gazelle, giraffe, moose and caribou;
All in the name of clean animals to share my love with you.
Deer and reindeer,
You were public to us only yesterday! !
But my tacit action was considered as my ego;
However, you were exposed to us only yesterday.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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29 What Is Denning?
The helicopter hovered
above the wolf lair
machinegunning
the mammals
from the air
*****
AllCreatures site say:
What is denning?
A helicopter hovers outside a wolf den in Alaska because of Sarah Palin's
scofflaw creation of a loophole in the federal law.banning the
aerial hunting of wolves, moose, bears or their cubs.
14 mother and father wolves were gunned down... landing the helicopter
found 28 cubs and shot each in the head
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Just A Day
I`m just a fish swimming in the bay
On a bright sunny day
Blinded by the beauty of the suns brightest ray
Fighting tides against the wind
Thinking of what could have been
I`m just a bird flying high
In the great big open sky
watching the beauty of the bluebird fly
I`m just a moose running on the loose
wishing you were here to give me a boost
I`m just a honey bee looking for that flower
On a vine that climbs your tower
Thinking of a way that i may say
How beautiful you made my day
poem by Joseph Whelan
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Getting Paid Under The Table
Getting praise does not make one pretty.
No matter how great one's talents.
Or longevity in the spotlight.
However...
One with money and looks like a moose,
Could convince anyone getting paid under the table...
That they are an Easter Bunny masquerading as Halle Berry.
And deserving to be featured on the cover of Playboy Magazine.
With the exposure of their 'gifts'.
Someone with money or the capability to make it,
And narcissistic too?
Can not be told they do not possess natural beauty.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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North-way Woods
A visit to Norway
A journey back in time,
Massive trees left and right,
Stretching their branches skyward,
Reaching for the sun that seldom shows its face,
With rocks happy to reflect its mighty rays,
Hills would make their home for moose and deer,
White houses cling to steep slopes;
Tumbledown shacks cower in their shadow,
Nature is always ready for nature callings,
With berries and mushrooms so wild.
When the mist clears and the curtain drops,
Souls engulfed in a red, white and blue shroud
Witness
Love blossoming in the house of
Love.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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Temagami
Far in the grim Northwest beyond the lines
That turn the rivers eastward to the sea,
Set with a thousand islands, crowned with pines,
Lies the deep water, wild Temagami:
Wild for the hunter's roving, and the use
Of trappers in its dark and trackless vales,
Wild with the trampling of the giant moose,
And the weird magic of old Indian tales.
All day with steady paddles toward the west
Our heavy-laden long canoe we pressed:
All day we saw the thunder-travelled sky
Purpled with storm in many a trailing tress,
And saw at eve the broken sunset die
In crimson on the silent wilderness.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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