Best Blueberry Poems
Indigo ink dreams
Dripping from heart
Tattoos tongue with kinetic kiss
Green electric buzz like sip
Of fine blueberry wine so sweet
Dreamy turquoise love touch
Filling me up with red desire
On fire for your romantic antic
Sweeping me off my feet
Carrying me with ease
Of a blue breeze to deserted love island
Where tan sands caress like brown hands
White waters flow warm and toasty
Fast slow then in closing cold
Never let go of this love
For it floats like a boat
'Love Story' Poetry Contest.
Sponsor: Regina Mcintosh
1st Place.
“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”
- John Green, "The Fault in our Stars."
"Love is selfless. Love is respect. Love is infatuation. Love is more than all three combined."
- the poet
your lashes flutter when you open your eyes
chocolate orbs, blown wide
my favourite flavour
it starts like that
two souls – a little bit broken, a little forlorn
raven locks to hide behind and skin moonlit parchment
I think I must be a little bit gone
lost in nose scrunches and cheeks all bunched up
a healthy blush spread all over and those shy plunges
my poor heart clenches
it’s pouring outside and your clothes are drenched
your body is shivering and your teeth are chattering
yet the umbrella you hold is over my head
eyebrows strewn together, worried I’ll catch a cold
it’s not just the wind ruffling your hair, I think I love your heart
and everything’s pure, this feeling blueberry snow
you love without asking something in return
it’s not just your heart, I think I love your soul
I touch its beauty and I find a lover.
Her silhouette is draped in soft moonlight
While an unseen sorrow cloaks her eyes
With traces of a light lavender mist
Hidden under dark blueberry skies
She's oblivious to the lightning's dance
Deaf to the sound of distant thunder
As this cold blueberry sky bears witness
To another heart torn asunder
blueberry night skies
crescent moon's lopsided smile--
star-dusted in bliss
Susan Ashley
September 14, 2017
With childish excitement we walked up the hill
Inhaling the freshness, experienced the thrill
Of blueberry picking, first handful to taste,
The rest in our baskets were zealously placed.
That scene is now faded and all that remains
Is wistful nostalgia that flows through the veins.
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Bite Size Poem No14 Poetry Contest (6 lines)
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Placed 2nd
© 26th July 2021
BLUEBERRY BOAT
I’m going to sea in a blueberry boat
With cellophane sails on cinnamon mast
It could be cold so I’ll take a coat
And In case of a leak some Elastoplast
We shall sail on seas of blueberry blue
with never a clash and no mismatch
You will hardly see us unless you view
With spectacles infrared attach
When cauliflower clouds are in the sky
They shall give us a satiating entree
Then of course the dessert will be blueberry pie
With a creamy cumulus topping soufle
I’ll send you a postcard wherever we land
On finest rice paper so you can then eat
my words, I can recommend them and
You will have a conscience that’s clear and sweet
A life on the sea may not be all calm
The weather can lead you a merry dance
But in case of storms I will have no qualm
With a spare pair of blueberry underpants
So to all you jack tars I say ahoy!
With a yo ho ho and avast below!
When you’re near come across on a breeches buoy
Share blueberry rum on our little bateau
Blueberry muffin.
Sweet things embedded in cake.
What a breakfast treat!
Blueberry season is near.
Bring plenty of muffins here.
early summer morn
blueberry pancakes served warm
apron stained, with love
Do you have an Achilles heel?
Mine is a blueberry muffin.
Always makes my taste buds squeal,
When it comes fresh from the oven.
Served up warm with a cup of tea,
A reason to get out of bed.
No coffee or eggs, not for me,
Now ready for the day ahead.
Often I cheat, have one more please,
And feel I’m as big as a whale.
My sweet tooth once more to appease,
‘Till I get on the bathroom scale!
Poem about Sudbury, Ontario, Canada
Where's Blueberry Hill?
Is it north; is it west?
All the people are talking
and they say it's the best.
Little fingers are picking.
All the children bent down
filling baskets with berries
on the far side of town.
So; where are these berries
I see marked on the map.
In this place called a district
of the Minnow Lake gap.
I can still remember
back when I was a kid
I had a friend called Millie
and we were made for each other
just like peanut butter and jelly
on a piece of crusty bread
on a Sunday afternoon
I'd go round to Millie's house
and we'd sit in the kitchen and talk
Millie's mom had an old record-player
that sat in a box on top of the fridge
and we'd listen to scratchy old records
of Chuck Berry and Little Richard
but I liked Fats Domino best
yea...he was definitely my favourite
we would sit there sharing a Pesi cola
listening to a song called "Blueberry Hill"
talking tough as if we were grown-ups
and smoking a cheap cigarette
during one hot summer
we'd catch the Short Line bus
and ride it all the way up town
across the old steel mill bridge
through the business district
right around memorial park
and out towards a place
called Stately Hills
when we finally got there
we'd look at the beautiful houses
and Millie would turn to me and say
"wow! I wish me and you could live here"
and I'd say "yea! That would be really great"
then Millie would pick us out a house
it was usually a large two storey affair
five bedrooms huge double garage
and a mail box at the gate
we'd walk around together
trying not to look out of place
but it wouldn't take very long
before someone would notice us
and they'd say something like
"Hey! are you two lost?"
so by the late afternoon
we'd walk back to the bus stop
and catch the very last service home
Millie and I would sit at the back
looking through the rear window
watching all those big houses
slowly fade into the distance
and disappear from view
"don't worry Millie", I'd say
"we can come back another time"
but as things turned out we never did
Millie's step-father had started to drink
so her mother packed up and left him
taking Millie to live with her aunt
I never saw Millie after that
but I always stopped to think of her
each and every time I rode that bus
and whenever I hear "Blueberry Hill"
I can almost taste that Pepsi cola
mixed with the odious smell
of a cheap cigarette
*penned by
Scarecrow Joe
Just saying the words "blueberry pie"
changes the way you feel.
And it's no wonder it finds a place of honor
at the end of a home-cooked meal,
for there is no need to pit nor peel
this sweet-tart low-bush fruit,
just add a dash of sugar and a flaky shell
and a little bit of love to boot.
When you say the words "blueberry pie"
most everyone turns their head,
anxious to learn if they can have a taste
for it's better than cake or cornbread.
And isn't it fun to see its purply goo
on your fingers or encircling your lips,
or showing everyone your purply tongue
as though you were in a pie-eating championship?
And have you ever smelled a blueberry pie
emerging hot and fresh from the oven?
Does the aroma trigger a thousand fond memories
and send you into the kitchen running?
And is there anything more enticing to see
than a slice dripping with vanilla ice cream?
And then gobbling an extra slice or two
is like living out a blueberry dream.
And who used to bake those blueberry pies?
Your grandmother or a neighborly friend?
And didn't its savory buttery crusts
make you want dessert time to never end?
So how do we know that a blueberry pie
has changed the way you feel?
That look in your eye and that smile on your face
are quite hard to conceal.
copyright © 2019 Gregory Firlotte
I was heading to the bunkhouse, after a wild night on the town
dancing & romancing & one too many round
Back in my wild & woolly days, one more rowdy Saturday night
full of cheap beer & whiskey & the necessary fight
I set Ol' Gus on auto pilot, he knew the way back to the spread
And I set to fighting with those rotgut demons dancing in my head
We were getting pretty close to home, so I eased up on the bit
when all of a sudden that dang horse he up & quit
His ears were all pricked forward, listening quite intense
I caught a drift of what might pass for music, somewhere beyond the fence
It took a lot of persuading, cussing & cajoling
but I got ol' Gus headed for all the caterwauling
the sound got more peculiar as we crested the hill
the memory of what I saw that moonlit night stays with me still
for I had stumbled on a peculiar party, hosted by a peg leg dog
and there was a one eyed pole cat doing comedic monologue
A Blueberry Roan soon took the stage, singing Motley Crue
I swear I saw a big ol' ornery hog with a "born to squeal" tattoo
There were bulls & Heifers dancing, I couldn't believe my eyes
why those bovine wore spikes and body piercings, in places utterly unwise
There where horses with mohawk hairdos head banging to the song
I swear to you, Ol' Gus, he began to sway & sing along
Now I know what you're thinking & I most heartily agree
it was the moon & wind playing tricks, along with rotgut whiskey
You city folks can keep your pink elephants parading in tutus
for this cowboy was shown the light by a Roan in blue suede shoes
I gave up hell raising & carousing, said so long to the honky-tonk life
Happy now to stick to ranching & dancing under the moon with my wife
But every now & again, when the wind blows & the moon is shining bright
I swear I can hear the livestock laughing & head banging through the night
Christian Children's book signing benefiting WORLD VISION
Saturday, Dec 22 2012,
8:30 AM - 12:00 PM
Caldwell Public Library in Noble County
517 Spruce Street
Caldwell, OH 43724
Call: 740-732-0065
You're invited to Christian Children's book "Blueberry Jam" Book Signing. 1/5 of the proceeds of the author is to sponsor World Vision Children in desperate need. Please join us! Author Lucinda "Cindy" Cayton, present with her pen. Locally, she has published writings in the Around the Square monthly publication of the Journal -Leader of Caldwell Ohio. The book sells at a special price of around $12.00 and will be on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Books and order forms will be available.
For order information you may call for details an additional 2.95 USPS shipping fee for out of town orders.
The bush grows slowly
Berries ripen to deep blue
Then ready to pick