Best Ambrosia Poems
i never wanted to be a god—
just someone you cried in front of.
that was enough divinity for me.
your grief tasted like pomegranate seeds,
sweet and bitter
and buried in the soft ruin of you.
i held your sobs in my palms
like something holy.
like juice from a fruit
i didn’t deserve.
i didn’t cause your sadness.
but i didn’t stop it either.
sometimes,
i fed it slow
just to watch it bloom—
a bruise unfolding beneath your skin
like pressed violets.
they say love is patient,
but i was ravenous.
i drank from your breakdowns
like they were wine
offered by trembling hands.
i told myself
i was comforting you,
but i think
i just loved the way
you needed me most
when you were breaking.
your tears were my ambrosia—
your pain,
a feast
i never earned.
and now that you’ve stopped crying,
now that your eyes have turned to stone
and your voice no longer quivers,
i sit at an empty table
with shaking hands
and no more hunger.
i miss your ache
the way gods miss prayer—
not because they deserve it,
but because silence
is a kind of death
when you’re used to worship.
your eyes close …
mine stay open, bewitched
my lips move soft along your cheek -
a sublime dermal journey
from nape to mouth
I brush yours with mine, as if
miming a sigh
and they part ... slowly ... sweetly
I pull back, slightly, then press again,
tender …
our lips fit … perfectly
the way my fingers fill the spaces
in yours - the way our
bodies merge like buttery heaven …
tongues touch and dance
twisting, loving, playing ... exploring
I taste, then tickle your teeth
running my tip along their
clean smoothness, as a stick atop
a white picket fence
(or fingers across piano keys)
seeking every corner ... every flavor
I savor each delectable nuance
that your pretty cheeks hide -
the wonderment of saucy spices
guarded by that dazzled smile
for me alone …
craving, you share the tang of mine -
remnants of your nectar still
clinging like honey …
it all mixes and swirls with
our sugary tongues -
a delicious delight …
a few stray strands of your platinum
herbal tresses caught between …
relenting to my fantasies
and the electric sensations that
flood my core -
our mouths devouring, hot
my eyes finally close
and I plunge your depths
lost in you ...
in our HUNGER.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice (21) Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Pick F, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Love Is The Answer" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice 21, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Beside the gurgling stream
I sit upon the grass
and watch the shards of glass
(reflected rays that gleam)
alone, as I daydream
below the clouds that pass.
Away from urban din
it’s peaceful all around
except for nature’s sound
that flows along akin
to music soft within
where strings of joy are found.
My senses taste with greed
and on ambrosia feed.
------------------------------------
Contest: The HexSonnetta
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Placed 2nd
He smiles and gazed
deeper in my eyes,
nuzzling closer
whispering words
I want to hear
sweetest love
take my breath away
he whispered
have confession to make
million ways making me quake
fuming hungers
A desire a passion
we can share
A secret
burning like fever
softly calls my name
warm as summer breeze
beckons me closer
he whispered
let me enter
alabaster temple of you
sweet like ambrosia
worship deep
secret delights
People watching, on a park bench under a ripe sun,
I sat, seemingly wasting time. My heart smiled the second hour when I saw John,
my father, in the clouds. He smiled back with arms that reached
from the past to pick the sun from the sky like a peach.
Golden light splattered,
as he bit into the fruit at high noon; with my head back
and tongue out, I tasted drops of sunlit ambrosia.
My father winked from the clouds. His eyes searched to teach
a lesson of love from father to daughter, spanning a gap in time. "God is love",
I heard on whispering wind. "Scotland". Again, he said, "Scotland". I didn't understand.
"My mom wanted to go but never did. Live, give and forgive, outlive the bad, relive the good",
like thunder from his mouth
I heard the words echo. "Time is on My Side" played
in the background on an old transistor radio as ancient
as the silent man, still like a statue, next to me. A hush fell on the park and a peace
swept over me. Men, women, spirits kept moving by for hours, yet none
were noticed as my wide eyes stared at the passing sky. I was happy.
In fact, I had never felt happier, but I knew I was running on empty,
exhaustion washed over me from the power of emotions while the sky moved north to south.
Clouds faded with daylight. Sadly, I blew a kiss goodbye "knowing the sky was feeling the same".
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, May 31, 2012
for Mish-Mash contest (Tracie)
passion comes
cherry sweet
juicy kisses
the taste and smell
of ambrosia
Ambrosia
Black tulip Shrek
Green envy demonstrative
Butter wouldn't melt whence churned
Into something other than itself
With chicken arms and pigeon chest
Which inside to hide
The ashes of a loved one
Departed
A mid life's tasty morsels, there'll be problems
M ost will be a mix coming in threes
B asically the sweetness is mother's
R ecipe, fresh from the orchard
O ranges scalded and peeled, sliced
S weetner added if there's any tartness
I nteresting how life's tasty morsels need
A dditions like sweet coconut that nullify sour
.
Ambrosia
for the soul
are clocks
chiming
in the shop
downtown~
big clocks
little clocks
cuckoo clocks
mantle clocks
grandfather
grandmother
carriage clocks
and country clocks~
hundreds
of clocks
chiming the hour,
reminding
the young
the old
the rich
the poor
fathers
mothers
newlyweds
and spinsters
that mortal time
is finite.
Artificial sweeteners
Refreshing flavor
A modern day conundrum.
It says diet, but
Truly you’re joining
The cult of
Coke!
People watching, on a park bench under a ripe sun,
I sat, seemingly wasting time. My heart smiled the second hour
when I saw John, my father, in lowering clouds. He smiled back
with arms that reached from the past to pick a juicy sun
from the sky like a peach. Golden light splattered, as he bit
into the fruit at high noon; with my head back and tongue out,
I tasted drops of sunlit ambrosia. My father winked from the clouds.
His eyes connected to teach a lesson of love from father
to daughter, spanning a gap in time. "God is love", I heard
on whispering wind. I strained to hear more...
"Scotland". Again, he said, "Scotland".
I didn't understand. "My mom wanted to go but never did."
"Live, give and forgive, outlive the bad, relive the good".
Like thunder from his mouth, I heard the words echo.
"Time is on My Side" played in the background on an old transistor radio,
as ancient as the man, still like a statue, next to me. A hush fell
on the park and a peace swept over me. Men, women, spirits kept moving
by for hours, yet none were noticed as my wide eyes stared
at the passing sky. I was happy. In fact, I had never felt happier,
but I knew I was running on empty or close, exhaustion
washed over me from the power of raw emotion
while the sky moved north to south.
Clouds faded, free with dusk of day. Sadly, I blew a kiss goodbye
"knowing the sky was feeling the same".
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, May 31, 2012 for Mish-Mash contest (Tracie)
It’s July … fragrant honeysuckles remind me
Of summers young when innocent passion bloomed;
Unearthing glances, confidences --- a throb my heart first held
Until desire turned into precious love, we ignited
The ambrosia of moist lips, the blush of intimacy:
Many a time, I wonder about him… fondling our space
While in eves quite , his kind laughter drifts now and then.
Written for Silent One's Seven lines of romantic heaven
6/23/2018
**Christmas Ambrosia**
Christmas tree lights
of velvety hues and blends
on walls, do flashdance
11-23-2020
she filled a cup
with ambrosia
and handed it to her enemies
so they'd live forever.
she died the next day
with a smile on her face
watching their laughter die away
and their smiles slowly decay
as their guilt grows in a bouquet
of wilted roses
their sanity decomposes
DEDICATED TO MY PRECIOUS MOMA
Angel hair coconut
Almonds and pecans sliced
Assorted citrus chopped
Apple red cherries halved
Ample pineapple crushed
Appetizing juice blend
A Christmas friend Mom tends