Best Cobs Poems
Upon the lakes they do swim gliding so effortlessly
These species of graceful waterfowl the largest of anatidae family
In their beautiful pure white plumage with elegant long curved necks
Blunted beaks and big webbed feet living together by water's edge
These magnificent creatures of the waters are a sign of purity and love
Remind us of the blessings in our relationships a gift from heaven above
If all goes well in there pairing they will stay together for rest of their life’s
When they glide upon the waters of our awareness they bring us deep insight
These birds of Mother Nature they’re exquisite and unique
Bearing exotic waves of beauty to our dreams as we do sleep
They swim around in our divine mind adding colours of delight
Encouraging us to spread our wings and take our glorious flight
Courting occurs on rivers and lakes throughout the known world
Whilst they live on plant life tiny fish and scattered bread as well
You might see them duck their heads as they feed upon their foods
But you better beware of their aggression whilst they protect their broods
The elegance of these myterious birds are displayed in a ballet dancer
Dancing into our emotions with their romantic artisticpower
Transforming our souls with delightful moves bringing us into harmony
With a brilliant performance of balance, control and technical flexibility
The beautiful dying swan pours its heart out as death draws near
Greeting this with an exceptional beautiful ending balladeer
Its modulated voice singing the swan-song of death so sweet
This harmonious sound can be heard as its last creative piece
The crown retain the ownership to all unmarked mute swans
A ceremony takes place once a year and lasts for five days long
Swan upping is a tradition dated back to the twelfth century
Markers row up and down the rivers paying tribute to the Queen
In England they’re a protected species and owned by Her Majesty
The wing spans on these wonderful birds can extent to several feet
These sacred aquatic birds male and female cobs and pens
Those little cygnets and swanlings on a swan lake that never ends
© Copyright KC.Leake
8th December 2014
All Rights Reserved
I should eat healthy, I really should! But life is too short for that. Food, food, food,
it chases away the blues, it brings comfort to the soul. So here is a list of the foods
that I L.O.V.E. and that make me happy. You will note a theme of cheese and
dripping butter (and chocolate) . . .
a chocolate bar, anytime
bananas, green, not ripe
crackers and cheese, as a snack
drenched in blue cheese, salads and homemade croutons
even, tortilla chips and chunky salsa
French fries from a chip wagon (on my way home from the gym)
grandma's recipe for beef stew with loads of vegetables and a rich gravy
hamburgers and hotdogs off the barbeque with all the fixings
ice-cream, chocolate of course
just out of the oven, french bread
keep the donuts and coffee coming
loads of meatballs, made from mom's recipe (in a sweet tangy sauce)
macaroni made with three kinds of cheese
nothing better, than spaghetti with meat sauce and parmesan cheese
onion soup, french canadian style, dripping with cheese
pizza, deluxe (peanut butter on toast before bed)
quick take out of chicken wings with hot sauce
really, really old cheddar cheese
steaming cobs of corn, dripping with butter and salt
tomato, bacon, and lettuce sandwich
until I say stop, chocolate
vegetables fresh for a farmers market
what is wrong with me, this is all so unhealthy
x-tra, of everything, please
yogurt with strawberries on the bottom
zesty dill pickles, aged one year
______________________________
June 24, 2016
Poetry/List/The Joy Of Food
Copyright Protected, ID 16-804-040-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Stealing Peas
all summer, warm-hot and lazy,
the garden grew taller, so much taller
than me. wondered where it came from
all that green life.
I helped papa plant the seeds
my finger deep into the brown
cool soil it smelled like safety,
home. it tasted like strength.
seeds are so tiny how does it fit?
but no matter, good things were
appearing all over the plot
tomatoes so red and bursting
the beginnings of corn cobs
beans, green ones, yellow ones
and peas oh… fat and
round and sweet, irresistible.
I hid behind stalks and vines
and stuffed my face with glorious peas
filling my pockets, with the empty shells,
for later,
hidden inside the compost heap.
Sister Josephine, our neighborhood nun.
No longer fit for ministry;
although she’s quit the nunnery,
she sits at our day camp nursery.
Go Jo uses every amp of energy
so as to champion or otherwise dampen
the spirit of grit in our scamps.
Sister Josephine, power shavers couldn’t stun.
Noise is born in my son.
Enjoying his horn on the run
from morn till night with the sun,
Boy Roy is fun, delightfully won.
Toys are Sprite cans, squiggly egg whites,
old cobs of corn and badly worn kites.
Sister Josephine, our savior you’d want.
Nursing their aches and their sprains,
reversing the stakes in their games,
she takes on blessing their brains.
Interspersed with pain, her tests will train,
coerce and arrest their thoughts with some stress.
Her heart makes and breaks their quests.
Sister Josephine showers favors - on good done.
Rhyming Words:
Stanza one:
no, although, Go, Jo, so
fit, quit, sits, spirit, grit
ministry, nunnery, nursery, every, energy
camp, amp, champion, dampen, scamps
Stanza two:
noise, enjoying, Boy, Roy, toys
born, horn, morn, corn, worn
son, run, sun, fun, won
night, delight, Sprite, whites, kites
Stanza three:
nursing, reversing, inter/spersed, coerce
aches, stakes, takes, makes, breaks
sprains, games, brains, pain, train
blessing, tests, arrest, stress, quests
Random rhymes in the the single lines:
our, power, showers
(neighborhood), (shavers could), (savior you'd), (favors/good)
nun, stun, want, done
Mother Nature is an artist!
She really has no peers!
Her masterpiece is, Autumn!
Has been for years and years!
Just pause, and take a conscious look,
at Autumn's scenic view!
Blazing colors, bright and bold!
red, orange, and yellow, too!
The Harvest Moon shines brightly!
Orange pumpkins, all around!
The Autumn breeze, blows gently,
as the leaves, fall to the ground!
Barn Owls, gather in the night.
Turkeys and Pheasants both abound!
Cobs-of-corn in multitude,
lie on the leafy ground!
Geese in V-formation,
seeking a warmer clime!
Cicada and the Sassafras,
prove it's Autumn time!
Crickets chirping, all around,
piercing the Autumn air,
you know it's "Indian Summer",
'cause their sounds are everywhere!
It's time to sit, around the fire,
to enjoy the stirring sights,
drinking coffee and hot cocoa,
to counteract the chilly nights!
Enjoy this beauty, while you can!
Such a colorful array!
You know, it won't be all that long,
till Winter comes our way!
By Carolyn V. Crawford AKA Rachel Dunkerque
Let's plant the field again with corn
Like the time in the years when first I was born
When the green of the field filled the early morn
Let's plant the field with corn.
Let's plant the field with corn again
Let the corn feel the kiss of the fresh spring rain
And the dew of the dawn as the day begins
Let's plant the field with corn.
In the field we will plant all the corn in a row
Dig the holes, drop the seed in four by four
For the cut worm, to die, for the crow, one to grow
Let's plant the field with corn.
When the corn grows tall we will hide in the rows
Chase the fleet butterfly and the swift black crow
Hail the man dressed in rags, wear his hat full of bows
Let's plant the field with corn.
While the corn's still green and the flax blows soft
In the breeze, braid the silk, till the day is lost
When the worms peep out from the husks, pick them off
Let's plant the field with corn.
When the corn is ripe we will pluck roastin' ears
Boil a pot, pipin' hot, till it drips with tears
Eat the corn, toss the cobs to the pigs and the chicks
Let's plant the field with corn.
Let's plant the field again in the spring
When the blue of the sky meets the earth with a grin
Like the time when we played in the fields first as friends
Let's plant the field with corn.
“Ay up me duck” sed me dad to me mam,
“Ah'v gorr’us some cobs and some nice Walkers ham”;
“The market was manic” he continued to speak’,
“I popped up to Linekers' to get fruit for the week”;
He came into the room and sat down next to me,
while mam poured him a nice mug of fresh brewed tetley.
“I popped int'a the aye-cross on me way back”;
“Just to av a swift arf, you know, just for the craic”,
“'I was playin' the frootie and just mindin' me own”,
“While some nutter beyind me 'ad a raj down the phone”;
“Ee was gettin all mardy to 'is bird or 'is mate”,
“cause they'd sed Jamie Vardy weren’t all that great”'
“well if you could've herd it, it got pretty scary”,
“he was gettin quite heated and seriously larey!”
Then me dad sat there chuckling away to himself
While me mam got the butter down off of the shelf.
He looked over at me still adorned with a grin,
“How are you anyway lad, and where av you bin?”
“Ah'v bin up the town' I said 'riding round Vicky Park”,
“giving our lad a croggy on me bike till the dark”.
And that's how it went just me mam, dad and me
As we ate up our cobs and had a few cups of tea;
It might not be Rio or L.A. or Rome,
But teatime in Leicester will always be home.
I've passed this way many a day
and wondered as I strayed;
Who had opened, what had filled
the gap within the crib's dark bay.
The opening small in the wall
at once so spare yet alluring
with tilted sides and gap toothed maw
which now held field mice burrowing.
The boards of red once formed a bed
for stored feed of golden maze,
these cedar shingles had sheltered
the abundance of by gone days.
The farm's gone now, no fields, no cow
long past its youth, its heyday
housing only bitter sweet and
memories of corn cobs and play.
Yet, here it stands, as I go by,
and so quietly it brings to me;
the lingering joy of laughter
the faint echoes of jubilee.
Okay my friends now let's just see
Do I have any weaknesses of my own?
Nope, after careful investigation
I find I'm just perfect to the bone
I'm a doggone stunning specimen
Of a *****sapien supreme
With bulging muscles everywhere
My tummy is tight and lean
So muscle bound, can't even bend
To tie my oversized shoes
Haven't seen some body parts
Since nineteen sixty-two
What's my secret you may ask
To my Greek Adonis form?
I chew on nuts and alfalfa grass
Celery and cobs of corn
Not your cup of tea you say?
So keep up your over stuffed ways
Like the very famous Goodyear Blimp
You'll be drifting away in the haze!
All in jest!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Elegant is the white swan
Joined for life swimming along
When cobs and pens breed again
Then cygnets swim with them
Date: 1/21/2020
Contest: When and Then
Sponsor: Jenish Somadas
More is so much more
More than creation could have to offer
The better we can do
If we meddle and then we tamper
Make it better it will be BIGGER
THERE beneath the muscle mass
The egg yolk recombinant pale industrial
Bubonic feed in tiny grains
Exogenous bovine viral
This will make it BIGGER
And so much better
This will serve the economic trend
Side effects no matter
BETTER bigger eat those nachos
Cobs are easier than modified corn
Plastic bags for a chemical filter
Economy size is so much BIGGER
Than the tastier crunchets were BEFORE
MATERIALISM's cannibalism
Of self consumption
Eats its way through the natural world
Great BIG cow beef dripping nasal hormones
Teeter themselves on unnatural legs
Burger buns and great BIG yellow M's
Have the market miasma cornered
Still the toilet middle man down
Flushed in the drains of public health
Get more to the gross is more to the pound
More to the kilo than an ounce
More insipid in its sliced up ubiquitous
BIGGER the savour ends up tastless
A pre-packed convenience for a cling-film house
Such is a western dream of diluted poison
BIGGER better better BIGGER
The opulent cadre of exploitation
And steady forever fractional collapse
More is so much more
More than this creation has to offer
Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
We drove along the secondary streets of Iowa,
Towards my grandparents’ large farm.
How excited we felt for this seemed like a yearly pilgrimage
To visit my old folks back home.
I always loved summertime with my grandparents.
Though I knew they worked hard, poor fellers.
I noticed grandpa and his group of hired men
Moving here and there like ants among the stalks
Of the corn that grew in our large fields.
Trimmers in hand, all would prune the suckers
And saw how tall they would grow, larger than me.
How grand it was to explore the countryside,
Making friends with Daisy, who lived nearby.
There we discovered a clump of oak trees
And a clean small lake that irrigated our land.
Swimming was a must and so was kissing.
I was madly in love with my friend as I dreaded
The day when I would have to leave her to go back home.
Meanwhile the cob was soon covered with smooth kernels.
And harvesting began which meant it was the end of summer.
But before I was to return home, grandma promised a treat:
She brought in some corn on the cob and inserted in each
A skewer, then grilled the cobs. Out they came piping hot.
Grandma spread generous butter on one and added salt.
What can I say? It was divine. And I wanted more….
Thus, we arrived after a long time, so full of glee and anticipation.
Daisy jumped first out of the car and rushed inside.
No one was going to make her miss her favourite dish,
A grilled corn on the cob. No doubt I followed suit.
DUSTY COBWEB BUILDERS
Who ever sees or even knows any cobs?
The cobs who live in my house must be small
Not big or clumsy to live in such delicate
Webs up in the corners of my ceiling and wall.
Even if I destroy their cob webs
They will be rebuilt in the same style exactly:
So these guys are industrious and persistent.
Like the morlocks*, only their handiwork I see.
But why are they always so dirty?
Never dust or clean their house each day?
Even the new cobwebs are dusty.
They must just make ‘em that way.
And where are the cobs whenever I visit their webs?
Possibly the cob-man just couldn’t stand
The dirt any more so he’s gone out
Down to the cob-pub for his favorite brand.
The cob-kids are sleeping over at friends
With their playstations (it’s a must)
Showing virtual cobs, building virtual webs,
With, of course, virtual dust.
Meanwhile the cob-wife is fed-up
With the constant dirt everywhere and
Wants a new vacuum cleaner.
She’s in the cob-café with her girlfriend.
But maybe these guys are really cob-realtors
Who’ll build webs, quick and cheap, and will
Simply lease ‘em to other cobs, ready-furnished:
With all the dust you can handle.
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NOTES
*Morlocks are creatures in H G Wells’s THE TIME MACHINE
The rhyme scheme is that in each verse the second and fourth lines rhyme
. . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Theme is “ cobwebs and dust” -- written 11th March 2012
Entered in Francine Roberts’s Contest Cobwebs and Dust
Stopping By Corn Field On A Sunny Day
with apologies to Robert Frost
Whose field is this I'm sure I know.
he's busy in the barn now though
and will not see me stopping here
to find his corn in rows and rows.
The stalks of corn are full of cheer
and cobs are tasty chased with beer;
and golden corn is calling me
to pluck and run, I have no fear.
It's late of day, no one will see
except the sun and she agrees
one or two will not be missed,
it's just a question of degree.
Heaven knows that I will weep
if I drive away with empty Jeep!
So now I have sweet corn to eat ~
sweet corn to eat before I sleep.