C Richard Miles

C Richard Miles Poems

521. April Spring Sonnet 5/1/2011
522. False Teeth - A Children's Poem 2/3/2009
523. When We Were Young… 12/3/2008
524. A Grand Morning 2/3/2009
525. A Few Short Musings On Poets 1/5/2009
526. Manchester Memories 5/22/2011
527. Coin Collecting 6/6/2011
528. A Month To Christmas 12/1/2009
529. A Palimpsest For Peace 10/17/2009
530. Traffic's Thoughts 8/16/2011
531. A Cry For Burma (Written After The Cyclone 2008) 11/14/2008
532. A Dot 11/21/2008
533. Thoughts Of A Goldfish 11/19/2008
534. A Faithful Friend 3/12/2009
535. Caterpillar, Caterpillar - A Children's Poem 2/11/2009
536. A Sense Of Spring 5/22/2011
537. Changes 11/12/2008
538. Sunshot On The Bus Ride To Hebden Bridge 8/16/2011
539. Watching The Cherry Blossom Dance By Sadler's Wells 5/22/2011
540. Zoo Fruit Feeding Time 6/6/2011

Comments about C Richard Miles

  • Jackie Lee (12/5/2015 7:30:00 PM)

    I'd like to use a poem written by C. Richard Miles as a not for profit short film. Who must I contact for the usage rights? I don't see his publisher anywhere.

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  • Laurette Evans (4/18/2011 9:24:00 AM)

    The Choral Society that I belong to would like to use Cotton Mills as the words to a commissioned piece of music. Would you give your permission for us to do this? The Choral Society website is www.burychoralsociety.com or you could contact me at l.evans@bolton.ac.uk

    Laurette Evans

Best Poem of C Richard Miles

Zoo Fruit Feeding Time

At the zoo's fruit feeding time:
An ape ate a grape, .
A porcupine ate a lime,
A skate ate a date,

A ferret ate a cherry,
A baboon ate a prune,
A bear ate a pear,
An opossum ate a plum,

A wolverine ate a tangerine.
An armadillo ate a tamarillo,
A bunny rabbit ate a pomegranate,
A gorilla ate vanilla,

A pig ate a fig,
A newt ate a grapefruit,
A lynx ate quince,
A wombat ate a kumquat,

A macaw ate a pawpaw,
An eland ate a lemon,
A llama ate a guava,
An elephant ate a melon,

A tamarin ate a mandarin,...

Read the full of Zoo Fruit Feeding Time

Russet Rustlings

I rustle through crisp clusters of lost, crunching leaves
Which gather, bunched and rusting russet, in the thickets
And sniff the wafting, musty, fusty, rustic scents
Of fungal undergrowth amongst sparse, once-lush bushes.

Last, rash, brash leaflets stick to sycamore and ash
But soon shall slip their tenuous grips and hustle, fluttering
To forest’s floor to settle, nestled in moist mash
To match the close-lopped, coppiced brushwood’s patchwork carpet.

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