Best Blackberries Poems

Blackberries in my hot pie topped with ice cream,              a bowl makes my mouth beam.  


Blackberry wine,                                        ...

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Autumn
Chilly evenings
Windswept leaves on the ground
Picking blackberries in the hedge
Tasty...

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Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Hug fence-lines defining the dusty country road
Twittering thrushes flutter, chirping while they dine
Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Sweeter fruits like faceted black diamonds shine. 
Picking must begin before tall grasses are mowed
Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Hug...

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blackberries relished, picked, coated
with sugar, fingers deliciously stained.
the tonic bumps twirl with my tongue
the sweetness and berry bravado
of childhood, picking and tasting
this satiating serendipity for one.
i wonder if my sisters and brother
found the wild bramble?
or  is  it  all  mine  -
this...

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Clusters of black orbs
Glisten in golden sunshine
Skins swell and ripen....

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Blackberries, blackberries, what’s the big deal?
They’ve too many seeds, and they give me no thrill.
They’re actually tart and they’re only sweet when
placed into a pie. Are they even good then?

Likewise the strawberry is not all that great
except if you eat it along with your mate.
You...

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Farther down the glade beyond Myrtle Creek
Where, as a kid, I went hunting for raspberries,
We discovered a ripening patch of blackberries
Grandmother and I went there for a solid week.
One early morning we heard a frightful shriek
And, we didn’t stop to entertain any inquiries,
Hastening out with...

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The taste of wild blackberries on her lips,
And the grains of vanilla on her cheek,
The tingle of brambles brushed my eyes
When I kissed the velvet physique.

A tang on the tongue of aniseed
When shuddering gasped a torrid peak,
The taste of wild blackberries then once more
And vanilla...

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*Image of Blackberries by Pixabay.


It's Blackberries


It's in the thoughts.

It's in the classroom.

It's during recess.

It's in the cafeteria.

It's in the library.

It's waiting for the school bell to ring.

It's the school bus ride home.

It's the tossed school bag on the porch.

It's in Pup-Tart, frolicking ahead.

It's the trail...

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I walked past leaving the noisy streets behind
Entered a less travelled path leading to the woods 
Where the scene gleamed with refreshing verdure
Here Nature lay in calm repose, deaf to all hustle n’ scuffle

Welcomed by the scent of flowers and foliage,
I stood in this engulfing...

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Sunlight dictates our days somehow
Evenings speak of duvets now
People begin to cough or sneeze
Trees start to dread each single breeze
E-type says there’s nowhere to park
Mornings complain about the dark
Blackberries doubt that they’ll get picked 
English sheepdog begs for a stick
Radio talks of candidates  
Fake...

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Spindly stretching brambles rebel from main form
    Amused bending stems eject spikes of rhino horn
    Thorns barely a repellent for birds resourceful
    Tweezer glowing twilight globe, a bitter morsel


    Fresh field alien green...

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the skin on the floor
does not lumber down the hill
blackberries ripen


July 5, 2018...

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swollen blackberries
basket of sweet temptation
purple gothic lips...

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