Barley Poems - Poems about Barley

I - Barley Pettigrew I'll tell you a story, outstandingly true, of the young lad called Barley Pettigrew. He was born with nine fingers on his hands. For how high he could count, it met his demands. You see, the townsfolk all say the doctor said he was born without anything in his head. It's not surprising that he...

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Over harvested fields — I walk beneath the fading afterglow of a forgotten lantern a path worn by wanderers older than the scroll of Zeno its damp salve seeping through my coat into my bones Fog an Erebian curtain a Stygian veil barn swallows following susurrus secrets of the soul each step a slow exhalation a...

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sweet tooth pig Charley Barley had cupcakes on her head. tied into an oversized crystal goblet, full of sugarplums all red. there were lollypops and m and m’s, so she would be well fed. we followed her all over hoping she would drop a few my cousin said....

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Poor kid on my block by the name of Harley Every day he ate bean soup with barley He'd poop 'til he bled The kid was half-dead No wonder his back end was all gnarly...

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Tiny Terry Titmouse peeks at me from a wee stalk of barley. Is he consuming this plant? Is this his home or his slumbering place? I watch his eyes flicker open. He does not appear to be afraid. He makes no moves. A country mouse for sure. Slow and steady, not wasting any energy. I admire him. No hurry. No scurry. No hustle or bustle. Does he...

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Lopsy Dopsy Corn and Barley Kitty wanted to see What an upside down look at the daisy field would be Could you please turn me topsy turvey? He asked a tiny bee. The bee rolled his eyes and said “Stop looking at me!” Lopsy Dopsy Corn and Barley Kitty was tiny, but smart. He thought with his brain,...

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Remote from the sea strong winds across the barley roll it like the waves....

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go, Hesekiah i couldn't give a truckload of bean barley soup Copyright © Mike Martin 2015...

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Five thousand people gathered at the Sea of Galilee Following Jesus, miracles hoping to see Jesus asked His disciples"Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" although He already knew how to accomplish this feat One of His Disciples, Andrew, saw a young lad Five barley loaves and 2 small fish is all he had But how can so...

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derelict gypsies in the shade speak with crows across the way. through the barley field and the corn spread the tenacles that were forlorned. telephone wires that have no shape stretching out so none escape. some said that it was the cross, some followed the lines and were lost....

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Come quick, come quiet, come yet my dear. To the place and days where all you fear, will be waiting for you on the moss of the old bark....

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standing in the crowd studying them some pretty most of them rich some not so pretty but all they have is rich going for them and not surprising that will be enough wondering is it filling them to do this every weekend casually conversing sipping a drink taking a drag from their prestigious cigarettes being where they think it is whatever it is to them most not knowing how to go past their own picket...

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A hare scampers away Frighten by a reaping machine We harvest the barley field, Not prey...

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Like a patchwork quilt Congregation of golden Yellows and ochres My entry into Brian's " Hymn Of Harvest " contest http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature4.php...

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Rejection floated over her head like a cartoon bubble Repeating her broken heart moments Resolutely she pushed on toward the library She'd hide awhile between the covers of a book She'd wipe her tears with words and wisdom She'd striaghten her spine while carefully turning friendly pages A voice called her name A face smiled bright A pair of arms stood wide open...

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