World Turtle Day Poetry

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• Ancient chelonians of lineage primeval
  Their survival now threatened by man’s upheaval

  We gather together to celebrate our perception
  Of turtles and their need for preservation and protection

  For turtles forever to play their part ecological
  To prosper and maintain their diversity biological

  For turtle and tortoise, terrapin and kin
  Their kind to preserve, their future to win

  We must work together, I tell you from the heart
  Whether we work together, or apart.

• A Turtle,
  So Green Was He,
  But Also Blue,
  Turquoise.
  A Turtle,
  So Nice Was He,
  But Also Mean,
  Turquoise.
  A Turtle,
  So Human Was He,
  But Also A Prisoner,
  Turquoise.
  A Turtle,
  So Free Was He,
  But Also A Shell,
  Turquoise.

• I had cried a sea of tears
  And began to drown.
  Trashing out, Unheard screams
  Bubbles filled my lungs.
  I long for safety and a home
  Not this empty black cavern that’s sinking very near.
  I look up out of desperation
  far above my  pain.
  And then black tears turn purple,
  indigo,
  aqua.
  I see a Turtle swimming near.
  The sea Turtle I’ve always wanted
  I reals all my fear.
  I float upward crowned in a bubbling glow
  My sea Turtle loves my bubbles.
  And away we go.

• You died one day in your little round dish
  and my sister found you lying there
  when she came to feed you that morning.

  Your shell had softened, I believe.
  That can happen to little turtles,
  bought from the department store.

  I hope you didn’t hate your name too much.
  She just liked the sound of it, dear Bing.
  She never called you der Bingle.

  You were a quiet little pet
  and gave my sister pleasure.
  Now it’s your day.
  Hope somewhere you know that.

• I am a turtle
  I live in a shell
  through all the cold weather
  its treated me well
  I am a turtle
  I dont move very fast
  i walk down the path
  I see rabbits run past
  I am a turtle
  Im old and im wise
  I see a whole world
  out in front of my eyes
  I am a turtle
  Im happily green
  if you are a turtle you know what I mean
  I am a turtle

• A painted turtle carries eggs
  to plant in warm sand
  in this her time,
  as mother did,
  and grandmother,
  and her great- and greats-
  stretched back deep
  into the spiral dark
  long before the dinosaurs.
  Her features are fixed, but
  if we see expression there,
  it’s of a mother implacable
  knowing none of the above
  but knowing this is her time.

• “She, Our Turtle Home.”
  Through the dark heavens She carries us.
  Darkness does not blind us.
  Between the bright stars She carries us.
  Their brilliant fire does not burn us.
  Past many strange planets She carries us.
  Their heavy gravity does not weight us.
  Through the endless centuries She carries us.
  Time does not end us.
  Beside Her sweet waters She carries us.
  Thirst does not dry us.
  Among her green jungles She carries us.
  Hunger does not ache us.
  Joyfully and eternally She carries us.
  No burden does She see us.
  Blessed by Her generous love are we.

• Down among the water-weeds,
  Darting through the grass,
  Round about the tasseled reeds,
  See the minnows pass!
  See the little turtles there,
  Hiding, half asleep,
  Tucked in tangled mosses where
  tiny crayfish creep!
  Watch the trailing grasses string
  Strands of purple shells
  That the lazy ripples ring,
  Sweet as silver bells;
  Watch the sunshine sift and drift
  Down the eddy whirls,
  Whence the laden whiteweeds lift
  Loads of blossom pearls;
  While the limpid shadows slip
  Softly in between,
  And the pussy-willows dip
  Lightly in the green
  Of the mocking trees that grow
  Down the water-sky,
  Flecked with fleecy clouds that blow
  Where the reed-birds fly.

• Let me tell you a story
  about a turtle named Terrell
  He had a knack for walking slow
  as you can tell,
  He was all of ninety years
  for ninety years he walked
  And never once had to sleep
  in someone else’s hotel
  He had a painted shell
  half-round colored and true
  From where he poked
  his head to view
  The things around him
  even the fox that stranger
  Out came his head eyes ready
  focused for danger.
  The birds would pick on his shell,
  ’twas very irritating
  They  would never even let
  him get some sleep,
  The bear and wolf would
  pick him up contemplating
  A quick supper
  they’d hope to reap.

• The day has not come
  when from sloughs, the great salamander
  lumbers through snow, salt, and fire
  to be with him, throws the hatchet
  of its head through the door of the three-room house
  and eats the blue roses that are peeling off the walls.

  Uncle Ray, drunk for three days
  behind the jagged window
  of a new government box,
  drapes himself in fallen curtains, and dreams that the odd
  beast seen near Cannonball, North Dakota,
  crouches moaning at the door to his body. The latch
  is the small hook and eye.

  of religion. Twenty nuns
  fall through clouds to park their butts
  on the metal hasp. Surely that
  would be considered miraculous almost anyplace,

  but here in the Turtle Mountains
  it is no more than common fact.
  Raymond wakes,
  but he can’t shrug them off. He is looking up
  dark tunnels of their sleeves,
  and into their frozen armpits,
  or is it heaven? He counts the points
  of their hairs like stars.

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