Best Anise Poems
I smell something so beautiful!
Many different fragrances are drifting toward me.
So many sachets of poetry are prettily displayed.
Such visual delights!
I stoop to relish one - a citrus blend
with sweet anise and cinnamon.
Ah! How fun this poem is with its taste of licorice!
And here’s one that is rather sensuous.
Its aroma is the clove,
clary sage, bergamot, and rose.
How luscious! I linger at this one for a while. . .
Now I lean in toward the scent of chamomile.
This poem soothes the spirit
with its lavender and jasmine blooms in it.
Oh, here is one not only sweet but spicy!
Coriander wafts my way
with cinnamon and ginger. Such a treat to savor!
Next I view a bowl
filled with myrrh and frankincense.
And what else?
Why, it’s the earthy scent of sandalwood
with a touch of patchouli for good measure.
My, this is an epic poem to treasure.
Right next to it I spy a tiny one -
a packet of herbs and other little things,
But oh, how sweet its fragrance
of nutmeg, citrus and vanilla. Indeed, I’ve found a gem.
And here is one completely fresh - a most creative blend
of lemon, lavender and pine. It is divine!
Now a strong scent of sweetness comes to me,
This time from lavender laced
with small petals Of germaniums, and again,
the wondrous cinnamon
that takes my mind far back
to sentimental scenes of childhood.
Balsamic and earthy is the final poem that tempts me
with cedar wood, spruce and fir -
another one with thoughts of life and nature
to ponder as I linger one last time. . .
Then I must leave this sanctuary.
Day after day -
how I love to fill my senses
with poetry potpourri!
May 1, 2016 for Linda's Poetry _______ (fill in the blank) Poetry Contest
(hope I did it right this time!)
“dans le heure bleue"
My skin feels alive
when you are
next to me
blood pulsing
from the core
of me
Root Chakra Red
My throat exposed
the Wolf now
lies next to me
in my warm bed
savage and smiling
he is seen, he
smells of
fresh crushed green
pine leaves
lemon
basil
bergamot
a heart blooming
with jasmine
rose
carnation
coriander
patchouli
sandalwood
and iris root, then
I’m on my knees
genuflecting
he says,
“Come here,"
He kisses me
and tastes
like
Star Anise
"sauvage
je reviens
vers vous
Rouge
dans le
heure bleue..."
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
V.S.A.S.
"Scent of a Woman
rising from
the Oceans blue
necklace of pearls
on a clam shell
salt and air
silver cut grass
then earthed
terra australis
Red"
Stepping past the crater towards your door,
I am reminded of warm days
surrendered in flowery abandon while
brushing against cool veins of
leafy promise, requiring only the slightest
compassion for the flow of life.
The scope of our crusade sings bitter,
like absinthe in a Fanta bottle;
tangs of anise and wormwood persist
within ether's truthful vision
resisting factory flavors in a curtain,
velvet reminders of flesh.
Lap your moistened shape. You dissolve,
my expectant sugar cube, no longer
made jagged by expectation or campaign
but fragile again, doughy in
blissful rapture upon my snacking,
curling up in a fetal calm
until we flow once more with the surge
propelling us entangled yet
unencumbered, finally breathing our
amniotic potential within this
spiritual umbilical making my stomach
spin within these tugs of finality,
despite my carpenter's heart yearning to
mend or create. Do arrogance and
industry compel mankind's devastation? Such
a question drifts unanswered as I
kiss your wrist before strapping on my boots
to hurl my blood into the fray.
Freedom:
Tonight is the night I fill the sky
With pure scents of Jasmine and Anise
Tonight people shall rest in peace
For no one shall be a worthless spy
War:
Your dream shall never come true
You are nothing but a shadow on a wall
For you are always in the blue
Even lightning and thunder make you askew
You see, I am the energy people need
I am the one that waters the seed
Without me, the world is nothing
Without me, news will be boring
Freedom:
Ha! Is that what you think?
People treasure me deep within
For I am their twin
I am there writing ink
Haven’t you heard in what you call “news?”
How many repeat the words of “Freedom of speech?”
Behold those who chanted my name
Recording the pages of history
Celebrate not you treacherous monster!
For the people shall rejoice once more
War:
I shall never let you destroy what I have built!
Freedom shall never seep into my soldier’s heart!
For they have no wisdom to make them feel guilt
I shall always have smoke ready to start
Until I demolish the sky;
until I see it cry…
The world shall collapse, turning into dust!!
Damage, chaos, and WAR are a must!!!
Freedom:
Today, people might not see me
But, tomorrow everyone is going to be free
I shall plant unison in today’s children
I shall always whisper into their ears
Awaiting the day where I, Freedom, shall become your fear
The day where you shall turn into DUST!!!
A spell shall be cast to banish you away
Nightmares shall haunt you as you play
War:
Mommy!! You scared me!!!
Look out, Freedom is coming after me!!
HA! What you say is nothing but Fantasies
Fantasies that shall crush you when…
Screams are heard instead of laughter…
Bombing is heard instead of parties…
Thus, I advise you to wipe away every Hope within you
Come, join me, and we shall rule the world…
Freedom:
Never!! Your schemes shall never work on me!!
Enjoy what remains
For it is not more than the ticking of the clock
That shall wipe out your existence
Though War is one of the physical influences in our world,
People might be delightful mirrors from the outside
And an intruder with a gun deep inside
Never nod your head in agreement to one who seems kind
For in the end, the idea of a friend dies with the wind
Always stand up for yourself and do not Always agree on what it said
Ouzo, oh ouzo,can make your head verily spin
But it made me feel like I was morphing into Aphrodite's twin!
And, more potent were your eyes stare and long eyelashes.
Dancing the Greek soldiers dance, OPA and in proud sashes.
Decades down life’s river, in the boat of life, we are one .
I close my eyes, still humming ‘Thessaloniki” loud and strong.
In a blue and white colored dream, I still caress your hand,
As we did long ago to a taunting, lively Bozouki band.
I shall blow out the gardenia candle and say good-night,
Loving you was, and is, forever~my soul’s precious delight..
Agape mou!
Panagiota
Notes on Ouzo!
Miracle Anise-flavored drink that can only be made in Greece
As of 2006, it received the EU-approved………………………..
PCO-Protected Country of Origin!
I wanted to add purple to my garden, she said.
She was lucky to have me, I thought in my head.
What about catmint, hydrangea, or meadow rue?
She looked confused, like she did not know what to do.
There is always lavender, corydalis, alluring allium too.
She took a step back and landed heavily on my shoe.
Spiderwort, mist flower, violet, anise, I suggested to her.
She did not respond fast, so I mentioned lupine, so pure.
How do you know so much about flowers, she asked me.
I don’t know, I guess I have grown up with them naturally.
Verbena, leading lady plum and bellflower might be the way…
She screamed, turned on her heel, and ran squarely away.
Written 6-5-2022
Contest: Purple Flower Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
Charming Patterns
An eyelet wheel models medieval embroidery
Aromatic, ornamental garden ballet steps for lovers
Strolling in stately patterns of noble estate
Savory’s romance looping through lavender labyrinths
Lost in curves of sweet scented anise dreams
A pavel of peace in pungent fans of feathery dill
Set in soothing circles of demure comfort,
Inside squares of loyal rosemary tied with ribbons of sage
Trimmed with clarion harmony of marjoram’s gailland
And arches of drizzles leap as parsley festivity
Joyfully brushes the fingertips of rows in oregano courants
A center pistel radiates lines of tarragon in devotion
Dotted by French knots of thyme
With rosettes of mint scattered in diamonds about the maze
Virtuous embraces of shy courtly kisses
In basil’s blush of chain stitch purity
And to the almain of lutes and of lyres
To the harp strum, to the chaste flute,
A castle garden dances faithful fidelity
Telling the story of love’s longevity
In charming patterns.
10-6-21
Contest: Charming Patterns
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Embroidery stitches: eyelet wheel, loops, drizzles, pistel, French knot, rosettes, chain stitch
Medieval Instruments: clarion, lute, lyre, flute, harp
Elizabethan Dances: ballet, pavel, gailland, courant, almain
Knot gardens of herbs are based on the intricate embroidery patterns of the Elizabethan age.
Sometimes words make me melt!
Like that anise-flavored, OUZO, the
Greek aperitif.
On hot cheese the waiter pours it.
A match is lit and the dish, of course,
lights up.
Don’t ask why, but wow, it makes my
heart melt!
Poets words can be that intoxicating.
A special few set my heart to racing,
Ouzo, as moving as great poetry!
Especially, much like Cummings most,
direct poem, such honesty!
“I Like My Body, When it is With Your
Body.”
A poem highly sensual and most loving.
A poem each poet should surely, read.
That is, if you are an adult and truth is
your thing..
And only read if you are a raving realist!
Who wants their heart to sing and have
it moonlit kissed.
10/12/2021
Come and buy
Fruits and vegetables from own garden
Best quality and most inexpensive items
Apples, Oranges, Bananas, Onions, Carrots and Potatos
Purchasers of my goods, I will give you some Plums for free
Come and buy from me
I have all the herbs you can imagine
Anise, Basil, Tarragon, Thyme, Coriander, Oregano,
Parsley, Rosemary, Cinnamon and Saffron
Fell how good it smells .......
If you wish, you may well get a taste
Come and buy
Here is the "real" goods for a cheap price
Adidas, Diesel, Bjorn Borg, Lacoste, Nike,
Jack & Jones, Gabba and Hugo Boss
Yes, the "real" goods and top quality
Try one as well, I will find a perfect fit for you
Come and buy from me
You need to buy one for your loved one
"Real gold and precious beautiful stones"
Beautiful work and see who it shines in the sun light
If you buy one you get the second for half price
Cheap, cheap .... What would you pay?
Give me a price you will pay...
So we`ll probably agree
Come and buy...... Cheap, cheap....
Turkey 04.04.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A bouquet in chocolate covered, rose made words....
Delivered the ballast their coronet and love's, communion
Anise her chatelaine esoteric, epitaphs ? Andromeda, gypsy moths
Metamorphe this curtain of night as she an effusion sub rosa: time's talisman
Archaic play'mates a covenant prolific cherubs,
...."In Progress." *:*(*
Puerto Rican girl
thin, thin,
let street lights pour
bourbon on your hair,
anise on your skin.
Puerto Rican girl,
thin, thin,
gin one white smile for me.
Let tambourines begin
Donal Mahoney
Rosemary Thyme fell in love with
a spicy character who was Sweet Basil.
Her parents didn't Extractly like him,
because he Peppered them with Salty
words. So they would meet secretly.
One day however, she Cinnamon Cumin.
Her Poppyseed her, Anise he mad!!
To keep them apart, he put her on
the overland Sage bound for Oregano.
Remarkable mother devoted wife
Forty seven years with her partner in life
Before he passed, rarely apart
He was her rock, she his heart
Unprepared to live alone at age sixty eight
But that didn’t stop her from buying a new gate
Painting the walls of the house in every room
Pulling up old tile, remodeling the bathroom
Installing French doors, taking out the trash
Clearing out the yard, removing dead grass
Repairing the interior liner of the pool at dawn
Tending the garden, mowing the lawn
Unusually brilliant gourmet chef
Her cooking skills are above the best
Hell’s Kitchen’s-Chef Ramsey would agree
Once tasting her chicken cacciatore
No cookbook to create anything great
Only flour, eggs and an oven to bake
Swedish limpa bread with anise
Her minestrone soup makes a feast
Her intention is not to shock or impress
It just so happens she does with finesse
Whether gardening, painting or cooking
She is constantly busy doing something
Her acrylic or charcoal painting of old barns,
Run down tractors, country homes and farms
On a canvas, a saw, a fence or jar
Surpass any artist I have seen by far
Need an article researched, a recipe, or ride
She’ll stop whatever to be by your side
Never self involved not out of greed
Rather motivated by another’s need
My mother is the rarest angel on earth
Supremely selfless yet full of self worth
Unknowingly inspiring even to a stranger
Simply by modeling her unusual good nature
I feel so blessed that she is my mother
She loves and listens better than any other
A miraculous role model, balanced and whole
I love that I am part of her and share her soul
We cry as easily at displays of affection or pain
We both love snow and the sound of the rain
We are both, productive, sensitive and dedicated
Creative, independent, giving and self motivated
No one else I’d rather be than her daughter
I am the luckiest to have her as my mother
Her only girl and forever will always be
And she is an angel like no other to me
Oh great. It is time to build a snowman in a fire place. Just ensure even placement and it is imperative to use the fire guard. Shrink sinking surrounding shaping shifting sailing sip. A shapeless garment on a large frame is jumping over road works now. Wow. A flying flurry of conquering onion and garlic pie with the scent of one star anise. And a bay leaf. Air no charging herd of bank notes to a horizontal horizon for horizontal happens here having horses, hounds and hippopotamus heals in a radius of two point eight circular twilight buds. Now move. Form a queue of nouns and get served by an asterisk shaped female. Whose antics in the pie aisle is packed with generically green grand groups and one smiling pea has now returned from a world cruise. Hahaha tinkling travelling trademarks trampling trampolining tyrannosauruses'. Hahaha collection of forks linking hands with the spoons then go sledging on a six wheeled bike. Ghanaian going out for dinner. Xxxxx multidisciplinary z that was the p Y Q reporting from a swirl of zones on a fifty acre cake. Z. Unilingual z and a diagram of a dish clapping. Z
Grandpa's tractor coughs, sputters and comes alive, acrid smoke sharpening my senses... gears engaged, lurches forward, disturbing clouds of fungus midges bursting in the sun from the damp clumps of weeds near the barn.
Anise Hyssop, wild spires along the barn, fill the air with licorice smells as the rear wheels brush by.
Proceeding to the field, the tractor hiccups over clumps of soil, jarring memories of Grandpa's firm grip around my waist, riding along, teaching me secrets of the earth...
...a cycle finished, Grandma brought out to the field at lunchtime, a covered basket filled with cold chicken, potato salad, creamed cucumbers and half a fresh berry pie, lovingly prepared the day before, sharing smiles and my excited recollections of the morning...
...another couple hours and Grandpa tires a bit, so we ramble back to the barn, spying Grandma unclipping laundry from the clothesline, softly singing beautiful hymns of praise.
A Blessed Day, Indeed..