Best Cinnamon Poems

Olive’s Cinnamon Bark

It took her some while to sense the meaning of feeling good in her skin

Her mirror her prism her mosaic glass and the mist on the crystal of time

At first it had appeared to project a tarnished reflection of yesteryear’s 

				Cinnamon Bark of...

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Thanksgiving fast approaches 
and the bustling has begun
in an enchanting house, 
the House of Cinnamon.
With children home for holiday, 
the voices that you hear
are sunny as the curtains hung 
inside this home of cheer.

As words elatedly resound 
through rooms and down the hall,
a glow of...

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Cinnamon memories catch my soul in snares
as I trace in anguish the curve of your lips
in a photo stained sepia with my tears -
a thousand words spoken through my fingertips;

wishing you to be the breeze teasing my hair
or the sun on my skin after its...

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Cinnamon memories catch my soul in snares

    as I trace in anguish the curve of your lips

      in a photo stained sepia with my tears;

a thousand words... spoken through my fingertips.


Susan Ashley 
October 14, 2020


~ Second Place...

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Autumn teases the last cinnamon leaves
clinging to branches with amber fingers.
Seasonal change awakens Nature's thieves,
a wafting breeze that doggedly lingers,
stripping trees bare; a scene that sadly grieves.

Fall sings in a rhythmic glissando voice
announcing it's time that she takes the helm.
We acquiesce, given no other choice.
She...

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brilliant sunshine smell of cinnamon laughter... white stones and tree trunks
*Christmas Jamacia...

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The sun glitters on  the seas smooth surface viewed high  from a hilltop 
Light blue and  pink wrinkles shimmer irredescently  on  the ocean's skin.
Cinnamon sugar sand lapped and soaked by effervescent lemonade froth
Purple fairy  floss sponges  entwine with...

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The scent of cinnamon buns and childhood,
big, fluffy, soft, a tad sweet-  oh delight;
mother made the best so ooey-gooey and good,
warm from the oven topped with icing white;
I could have eaten the whole pan in one bite.

Mother made exactly six buns for each,
there was...

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Cindy Cinnamon was a working gal
Lavender Lucy her very best pal
one night they tag teamed Mr. Ed
smoked a pound of panama red
Stormy Daniels did shots from a pail 






12/26/18...

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Elevated feelings of ecstasie
Fuelled by passion
Long lonely looks
Cocktails in dim
Smokey bar room
Short leather skirts
 Hormones mixed with
Sweet perfume

 You never tell me
What you want
Nor who you 
Really are

Other than your
Brown sugar and ice
Dependency
I only know you as
A Cinnamon Lover....

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~
Flour on her hands, and centuries on her elbow
Fingers balance a 'hand-me-down' dish, 
Roosting deftly on finger-tips, high in mid-air
Lovingly she spins it, magician's hands twirling
Trimming the edges with flourish and flair

A bit like Da Vinci' ,…a small tool in hand
Skillfully carving, as a blade...

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cinnamon spices
holiday to the nostrils
fresh baked cookies please


**Christmas cookies, sugar, ginger snaps, oatmel and my favorite peanut butter!!
Holiday haiku for Deborah...

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shrub
Ceylon
laurel bark
kinnamomon
spice...

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What is that glow near yonder red leaf.
near a willow still sharing grief?
A gem, perhaps, or sunbeam
with drops of cinnamon.
I won't hazard guess,
but I confess
topaz gems
are nice
spice!

November 6, 2022
for Andrea Dietrich's "November Nonet" Poetry contest...

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9/30/2023



For coffee lovers, only~ it is time to celebrate!
Get out your favorite, beloved coffee mug..

Let’s make iSunday, a “mugnificent “ day!
That morning jolt, inspires so many poets!

You can drink it black or add milk,or half and half.
Or…..my favorite..a dollop of whipped cream.

Sprinkle fresh, zesty, ground...

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