Best Cider Poems
Fall glides in on the wings
of migrating monarchs,
stained glass visions seeking respite
from a tedious journey
signaling a change in our surroundings
Blushing, the complexion of November
slips from swimsuit informalities
to fawn layered outfits of earth tone lace
Singing of cool breeze melodies
on chrysanthemum dance steps
Sweetly autumn reaches,
filling every part of my heart
collecting at my feet like fallen leaves
Swirling about me on winds of fleece lined affection
tickling fancies and coaxing smiles
Maple syrup hues cling to pumpkin seed desires,
painting pathways in tinted curves,
outlined in kaleidoscope siftings,
champagne ribbons winding
to stroll with the one you adore
Fireside encounters
warm of passion’s enduring flame
a’ glow on shade drawn windows
and pine needle temptations
floating of chilled evening whispers
Wrapped in my arms, hot cider dreams
gather amidst comforting aromas,
weaving scented shadows neath wool blanket motions
and as the season changes, so do I…
I fall more in love with you
‘Twas in the spring we met just you and I;
our love then bloomed and took off to the sky,
and floated ‘mongst the clouds that drifted by
as we enjoyed a new nirvanic high.
And like a fantasy it set us free;
in reveries we soared across the seas
to white sand beaches lined with mango trees
that ever gently swayed in ocean breeze.
We spent our summer lost in paradise
while sipping Captain Morgan rum on ice,
and passions never ceasing to entice;
just you and me and love, Babe, did suffice.
But time, relentless time, has cast its spell;
there’s no escaping younger days death knell,
like pebbles falling down an empty well,
and echoing the age in which we dwell.
Although our days of youth did now expire,
our love still strong and filled with much desire.
We have our memories that never tire,
as now we’re sipping cider by the fire.
November 18, 2018
The Cider Gum (Eucalyptus Gunnii)
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The full Moon ablaze in the night sky
Beams down on the dead and dying Cider Gums
Their ghostly silhouettes, so white and stark
Now just a reminder of the past
…
The Central Plateau, the High Country of Tasmania
Is or was home to these magnificent trees
Now there bleached skeletons tell the story
That the environment in which they flourished has changed
…
Grazed extensively by native and domestic animals
Used by the aboriginals, settlers and trappers
The Cider Gum leaf, was used to make cider
And the sweet scent used to freshen homes
…
Eucalypts Gunnii (Cider Gum) unique to Tasmania
Once so prevalent and used in a variety of ways
Now standing forlorn, dead and slowly dying
Their limbs and branches bleached white by the sun
…
Many attempts have been made to re-introduce the gums
But the changing environment and pressure from the wildlife
Has meant that the Cider Gum is facing a loosing battle
For the seasons have changed, not enough rainfall and hot summers
And the snow no longer on the ground for weeks on end
…
Such a unique and magnificent shade tree, stepped in history
Will soon be a distant memory and extinct
Will be left to the old timers to tell about the Cider Gums
For I have doubts that mother nature can revitalize Eucalyptus Gunnii
Cider, you,me…in front of an insouciant fire.
Cinnamon cider swirling in cloissone cups.
Life, a perfect sunset in your amber-chocolate eyes, I dearly sought.
Later, to our bed, to peacefully retire.
The calico cat’s tail wound about our feet.
The tartan blanket embellished us in beauty.
Creating wedding plans, a pleasurable duty.
In graciousness, that we so blessed did meet.!
1/27/2023
Sipping cider with my sweetheart,
it was so much fun.
Christmas tree, the cards and shopping.
All of it was done!
All alone now with my sweetie
on that Christmas Eve,
I was thrilled about a special
thing I would receive!
My boyfriend all month was hinting
how he would arrange
to strengthen our togetherness;
that our lives would change!
“Are you ready now?” he asked me.
“Cover up your eyes.”
Then he took a bit of time to
go get the ‘surprise’.
I peeked! It felt like I had been
punched right in the gut.
Racing toward me came my gift:
a yelping little mutt!
Nov. 25, 2018 for
the Cool Writes And Imagination Poetry Contest of Kim Rodrigues
When We Know A Cool Apple Cider Would Be Nice
Brownish red hues emitted from angry red skies
Such depths of emotions sometimes are born from lies
Much as rattle-snake rings it tails before it bites
Poor country boy sang, save me, just before he dies
And there was no angel to save him that black-night
As wild river turns and floods the new founded town
The town throng asked who is wrong and who is right
All the hero gave them was a tormented frown
The storm smiling idlily, at first hides its face
Then it gave forth rampant lightning and heavy blows
When all was over we had such a torn up place
We knew that old man Satan had played his show.
Asking ourselves if the pain is worth the damn price.
When we know, a cool apple cider would be nice.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
April 5th 1974
Note
Sometimes we know that making the decision is much harder than the actual fight will be.
Mulled Cider
M-is for Merry Christmas.
U-is for unforgettable lights!
L-is for lullabies to the Christ
L-is to laughter with those you love
E-is the heady fragrance of evergreens
D-is for decorations, so divine
C-is for the carols we happily sing
I-is for the infant, Jesus, our King
D-is for December,snow on the ground
E-is for embraces with our family
R-if for revering and remembering
December 15, 2019
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If you catch the Christmas spirit,
spirit it away somewhere,
where there will be loved one's near it -
it will find my Sweetheart there!
There! Against the Northern light,
light as air, in reindeer blow
Blow now too, with all your might,
might it help them through the snow
Snowflakes, as they fall to land,
land beneath each cloven hoof
Hoof prints, left where reindeer stand,
stand out when they go, as proof
(proof that Santa's sleigh is near!)
Near the fire, the cider warms
Warms me most to have you here
Here - let's toast to winter storms!
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11/16/2018
place in the mountains
great cherry apple cider
cold from the first sip
A spider drank cider and was legless at breakfast
Now this placid arachnid with a shoddy wee body
Asked weevils so evil if they each had a needle
Could they just for a joke smoke while they poked
At erudite mites with myopic eyesight
And bedridden black beetles who bawled noon and night
At bow legged bees who could bumble and fumble
With wasps that were dishy but got into a tizzy
Watching high jumping fleas pee in the sea
Beside conniving cockroaches who approached in stagecoaches
Near trails of pale snails drinking buckets of ale
Sold by charming blow flies wearing spotted bow ties
In a dark damp old cellar with an ant storyteller
Whose sight had declined until he was blind
Who made up strange tales of fat whales with sharp nails
That fed on a diet of cat, sprat and rat
Carrying small bugs who never gave hugs
To horn-tailed yellow midges wearing red tartan breeches
And whopper leafhoppers sucking monster gobstoppers
So the spider could laugh like a three legged giraffe
And begin to grin at the insects chagrin
I like to brake things
Make a mess of this
It's easier for you
To turn your back on me
Eliminate possibilities
Twist it intentionally
Off roading any stability
Calculating probabilities
Plotting destruction
Saw the signs in your eyes
Needed to break free
Building enough crazy to see
Attachment theory
Had you thinking
I was believing
Really just controlling destiny
Found the pressure points
Leaned in, just to see
Worked out seamlessly
Got you running far from me
Warned you I was a wolf
Even if you saw a sheep
It's ok you fell for it
They always underestimate me
It was fun you say
I stopped star gazing right away
Knew you'd inevitably fall deeply
Thought it best to implode it immediately
Happy you think you're winning
Inside I applaud expectantly
Knowing you'd be positioned
Relieved you surrendered blindly
Project thirty
Phase complete
Bye bye baby
Infiltration achieved
The budding nativity scene at Old Town Cathedral
adjacent Naomi’s Route 66 Diner where my fiancée and I
stepped into this morning out of New Mexico’s enchanting snow
wore an expression of preordained purpose
greater than itself and perhaps
equivalent to what itself represents.
From our shared perspective, through a fresh frosted window,
the framework manger centered directly in line
with the cathedral’s enormous French doors and their carved
significance amid sunrise flurries too intricate to clearly be seen,
almost as though it was an opened portal
unlocked to invite our eyes to another still locked.
Sipping warm-apple cider, neither one of us spoke
as we imagined, in tandem, our journey to endless unknowns,
both so mesmerized by possibility’s euphoric beauty
we hardly noticed the little blonde-haired girl
with a key in her hand walking straight towards us
whose first footsteps through fresh-fallen snow had yet to form.
11/21/2018
Sylvan surroundings of a Sanatorium
With cold wind biting the boulevard...
In pallid rays of winter sun, I recuperated.
"Hey, I am your new nurse"...
A light blue scarf came in a tint of white.
Wow!, Wasn't she my Carolina?..
Lost ten years ago in the valley of time and distance..
I knew the honey-sweet voice.
But she never knew I loved her so much.
She chafed my feet in her anodyne touch.
Memories warmed my cold winter night.
'You'll have a hot cup of cider, alright?..
Red apples bubbled in simmering condiments.
Cinnamon, nutmegs and Cloves.
As I sipped Cider with Carolina, my sugar level arose.
A red fire was burning the frost of winter.
A crisp tangy smell of my pureed semi-tart love.
The maple syrup with a sugary crust...
My sweetheart says," Show me where it hurts".
Dated 25th November, 2018
Submitted to the Cool Writes and Imagination Contest
Placed 10th
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
Also placed First in Brian Strand ' s contest
I always knew the cider mill was across the road,
Down a little ways from Grandma's house.
This day, it must have been October;
The afternoon sun was shining hot;
The side of the road was dusty.
A steady sound was chug-chugging through the air
On top of the sweet dusky smell of over-ripe apples.
I went to have a look.
The mill itself was a squarish box of grey weathered wood.
I crept along the path worn in the grass
Alongside the building and peered around the edge.
Two men looked up in surprise.
One was at the top of a machine with a crate of apples;
The other was bent over at the bottom,
Holding a shiny bucket.
Everything about them was brown,
Their sunburned faces and hands, their clothes,
Their flyaway jackets and felt hats jammed hard on their heads.
They froze still in their poses.
"Is that cider?" I ventured pointing to the few drops
Still dripping from the spout into the bucket.
The smell was really strong back here!
"Oh, yes!" They both jumped to answer.
"Would you like some?" Not waiting for a reply,
The bottom man put a rusty tin cup under the spout.
The other one pushed in some apples at the top.
Out spurted bubbly brown juice!
It fuzzed around the edges of the cup.
I took an experimental sip. It was totally good!
Sweet and warm like the sun! I drank it all.
The men were talking now.
How was school and how old was I.
And I talked, too, how much cider do you make?
Where do the apples come from?
Why don't you make it all the time?
Then I couldn't think of anything more to say
So I said goodbye and they said come again,
But I never did. I don't know why.
It might have spoiled it.
Mommy, Mommy it's the cider doughnut mountain man
From when we went trick or treating , Remember?
The Lincoln Log cabin in the woods way up on the mountain
Hot cider with a cinnamon stick Chocolate glazed doughnuts
Can we go there for Christmas? Please
Jimmy, shush! Your embarrassing Mommy He'll hear You
We're going to Grandpa and Grandma's for Christmas
As I turned around ; a little hand waved to me , in glee
The Christmas Spirit sparkling in his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Jimmy , Merry Christmas
Dedicated to Jimmy Cahill ( 8 years old )
Author's note Mountain man is not size it is where I live