Best Dainties Poems
A CHILD’S CHRISTMAS EVE
A child’s in thought by a cozy fire
His dog stretched out at hearthside
Big sister and a friend fun-gone
On a frosty snowy sleigh ride
His kitty Miss Boots
Done chasing a mouse
Asleep on the sill
Not a sound in the house
Then in fancy enchanted child hears
Pitter pats on the roof
A jolly fat laugh
Many reindeer hooves
The blaze in the fireplace
Pops a big log
Startles the child
And up jumps his dog
Blasé kitty Boots
Starts licking her paws
Could really care less
About Santa Claus
Well the red clad saint
From a mist slow appears
Till now stands full grown
A stroking his beard
This elf’s not imposing
No no not at all
Here stands a man not 3 feet tall
Though perfectly formed unbelievably small
Child and dog stand transfixed
Eyes open wide in complete surprise
Doubting the form is really St. Nick
Greatly puzzled because of his size
At last child in haze
In a wishing fond pause
Does stammer a question
Two words “Santa Claus?”
The vision though smiling seems not to hear
But merrily ho-hoing reaches back
And in a shower of gold
He conjures a sack
The brown bag is loaded
With all sorts of toys
Colorfully wrapped and neatly bowed
Dainties for girls sport for the boys
The gifts then fly out and under the tree
This all in a wink quit magically
Then boy and dog in amazement see
Old Santa rise up the fiery chimney
The blaze in the fireplace
Again pops the log
Again startles all three
Child kitty and dog
Christmas morn child early awakes
How tangible yestereve’s happening seemed
All colored in Christmas’ red gold and green
Was Santa Claus real or part of a dream?
Dave Austin
Your Majesty, your meal is served.
May it fit your royal taste.
Only the best for you reserved,
Sweet milk with wine is laced.
Please make your judgment not in haste,
Dear Sir I plead with you.
This dish before you humbly placed,
I offer sav'ry stew.
.
Only the best you have deserved.
May it be not a waste.
You are so slim and nicely curved
It adds not to your waist.
Your fish well cooked with a nice baste
Fine flavors coming through.
In finest china it’s encased.
I offer sav'ry stew.
I’ve sought the best with zeal unswerved.
To markets I have raced.
Your every fancy I’ve observed
Ensuring fare be chaste.
For rarest dainties I have chased.
My liege deserves his due.
Delightful delicates I’ve traced.
I offer sav'ry stew.
For you my feline prince I’ve faced
More worries than you knew
That your fine taste be not debased.
I offer sav'ry stew.
For Ballade contest
I will wash the feet of my enemy
I'll eat the dainties of the flower leaves
I will kiss the bright of the Sun
I will sit amongst the branches of the trees
it comes to me
life is only begun
like the northern breeze
forgivenessit comes to me
4/13/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Afternoon Tea
in a bone china cup
Tastes nicer
don’t you agree
~
Earl Grey tea
especially
when poured
from a teapot
after brewing
not stewing
~
For exactly the time
that it takes
for to make
a nice cup
of Earl Grey tea
~
Lay out your best china
Royal Albert ~ Liberty
On a tray
On a cake stand
there all for to see
~
Brown finger sandwiches
with salmon
with ham
Scones and whipped cream
homemade strawberry jam
A plate full of dainties
exquisitely made
Washed down
with a cup of
Earl Grey
or Assam
~
So typically
English
is afternoon tea
Always a treat
both
for you
and for me
Written 5th June 2022
Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Greed sways motionless
It plummets into the valley of worthless
Is it immoral stealing
It does obliterate opportunity
Selflessness is a river of unbreakable unity
It jeopardizes our freedom,
A determination that makes you fearlessly overcome
It is destroying our hope
So now how can we cope
Corrupting all the goods, food, money,
Wealth doesn't come swiftly
So much evil never leads to a good act
Now there are so few haves
Leaving the world with have not
Ask yourself how did hell get so hot ?
That makes these things an addiction
It macerates beyond recognition
It chastise you even beyond death
So help someone less fortunate why there is still time left
Innovative an unbeatable peace; between man and the surplus environment
Cheerfully uniting you with your rudiments
Incline not my heart to any evil thing, to practice wicked works with men that work iniquity:
and let me not eat of their dainties. Punishment of.
Psalms 141:4
Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed.
Mahatma Gandhi
Every year at Chanukah,
Like from divine command,
My grandma made the cookies
All her grandkids would demand.
These humble sugar dainties,
Cut in shapes and rolled out thin,
Served as harbinger that Chanukah
Could finally begin.
But each one, crisp and delicate,
Came with the possibility
That part of it would snap away,
Because of its fragility.
So lions rarely kept their tails
And candles lost their flames.
The sturdy dreidels, still intact,
Were prized for lack of maims.
A colored sugar dusting
Coated each and every shape.
From sugar sparkles on your clothes
You never could escape.
My grandma passed her cutters down
To me, and so I strive,
With floured hands, to help to keep
Her recipe alive.
Today I gamely baked a batch;
My kids made the request.
I picture grandma’s smiling face
And think she’d be impressed.
perfectionism: the fragrance.
be an ideal vial
of toilet water.
discover little dainties
in pock-marked
hand-held
facades.
purge your persona
with the devil’s
details.
flippancy: the fashion.
be a toothpick-skewered
single-serving
euphemism.
be sampled
and rimmed about on gossip’s lips.
paw
for the choicest brown
velvet
neck-caressing
reassurance.
double-standard: the sexiness.
be a pretty ogre
pitchfork hordes
fashioned
at a wink.
tactless
hunch-back
spasms in each spoon
of toil.
carve wide moats
of saccharine
bitterness.
Well you are the Virgin of Chasity
All fired up in a warm shade of Indigo
You are the unification of cosmic
Forces in the shadow of Mercury
An adaptable soul but you never
Compromise your virtues
Born of the earth and the sardonyx
You are a beautiful maiden of
Royal dainties at summer's end
Your fruit is ripe and by a harvest
Moon your table is set with
This and that and it's never
Old hat oh at summer’s end
On a fat Wednesday night
Well you are a wonderful
Humanitarian touching many
A heart and many a life yes
You are the unification of
Cosmic forces in the shadow
Of Mercury and the last few
Days of summer all fired up
In a warm, warm shade of Indigo
In the wake of September
Enter, enters VIRGO!
Up here in Canada we have our own words
Everywhere does, some think ours are absurd
Between toques, hosers and rhyming currency
Like loonies and toonies, we do speak uniquely
But narrow it down to one province specific
Our Saskatchewan tongue is fairly prolific
We drive on the blacktop to get to the grid
To get to the cabin you went to as a kid
Past the RM’s to grab a two four o’ Pil
Put on my bunnyhug to ward off a chill
Wearing thongs in the summer to the river and back
But the ones on our feet, not the ones up our crack
Kitty-corner from the LB is the Rider store
For watermelon helmets, jerseys and more
Our die-hard fans, they all bleed green
Filling the stands, not a bush league team
Daylight savings? Not on our clocks or phones
For anyone in Saskabush or Pile’o’Bones
Or Elbow, Eyebrow, Climax and Oxbow
Moosejaw, Moosamin and Findlater also
And if you were in P.A. for any time spent
You’d know poor deadly is a compliment
Swimming at Pike used to give you the itch
But it’s all better now so jump in, in your gitch
Even if you’re in the city you know everyone
Probably from the small town that their cousin is from
Someone always chuckles when they say Speedy Creek
We like eating dainties, drinking Vico and Beep
Land of the living skies on or license plates
With good prairie storm clouds, the view’s kinda great
Take a left by the elevator and a right at the barn
Keep going until you’re 20 clicks past the farm
See the dog with one ear up and one ear down
And those are all the directions to get to that town
Full of colloquialisms you may not know well
If you're not from the easy to draw, hard to spell ;)
I walk and search after my soul
Natural beauties, the dainties they told
Thru exploring, the secrets unfold
All weepy drama, the craving whole
The maze of things, the better known
But they have never satisfied my soul
No more to offer, to fill thirst for gold
Longin' after, the place of my soul
Where my spirit filled, my strength is whole
Where I call it sacred, to find, I roam
As man longs to worship, to ends at his tombs
Somehow, I feel, the ultimate unknown
Touchin' me gently, and filling me whole
Satisfy my emptiness, my thirst for gold
As the dear pants, reaching out, behold
The truth, one not belies, the search for your soul.
Busaba Patanawiroj
21.7.2010
Form:
Alabaster staircase framing chandeliers
Picassos, Renoirs, Van Goghs lining the walls
Marble floors, dazzling in the starlight
Polished perfection staging the Night
Dainties, delicacies, tray after tray
Sweetmeats, exotic fruits, more on the way
Debonair men in their tuxes emerge from limousines
Women goddesses wear sequined gowns, leggy queens
Playboys, playgirls of the Riviera making the scene
Jealousy left wondering what it all means
A Fair Maiden
A Fair Maiden
We look inside the wool sack left dangling in the wind
To light the flame of what we have been searching for within
She dances in a ring of fire yet throws off a challenge with a shrug
Looking for deep reflections of sweet love from above
While living in her plush castle among the allegiance
She looks at nature with it's fallen embers of soft green colors
Draws from the well of the sproutng spring along the river
Sends a shiver down her spine of sublime intent
Looks deep in her drawer for paper to write on
Making music out of the sweet melodic chimes in her room
Very carefree as her master sips on his port
A garden was planted outside in the dusk
Shelter lies dormant amidst it's beckoning plough
Travels to the market square to buy dainties filled with perfume
The songs that she sings sweet presence of lavender dew
A court jester laughs as she sits in the abode of her study
Making colors out of the sky seen by a fleeting passerby
The king has summoned her presence to a far away palace
Soon she may be selected as the honrable lady or queen
By the ocean she sets her sights on the make believe
Into a far off forest fr one heart willing to achieve
A rainbow in the dark amidst it's timeless plight
Forget the night it's a new chosen day by which to bow the knee to pray
A heart very sweet in the nature of solace follows her touch
Serenity bliss in gracious communion sweet
engulfs my grateful soul… while heavenly windows
open themselves wide for me, “amid jagged shadows
of mossy leafless boughs” --- in my worship retreat.
Wondrous meeting with the Lord, joyously divine
Revives my spirit, anticipating blessings
Conquering sufferings from crises oppressings
Assured by bountiful dainties, preciously mine.
Gripped with adoration zeal during altar call
My heart exalts* my Saviour along trust fervor
Triumphing over guilt by His pardon’s savor
Propped am I to follow Him to stewardship hall.
Thus, “amid jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs”**
I can behold service-buds blooming through God’s light
Since my faith He upholds to conquer distress blight
Enabling me, despite flaws, to fulfill my vows.
*Isaiah 25:1 O LORD, thou art my God; I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name; for thou hast done wonderful things; thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth.
**Samuel Taylor Coleridge
November 28, 2019
2nd place, "Writing Challenge 3- November - Any Form" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode; judged on 12/3/2019.
I will wash the feet of my enemies
I will eat the dainties of the flowers leaves
I will kiss the bright of the Sun
I'll sit amongst the branches of the trees
come to me
life is only begun it comes to me
like the northern Breeze
I relish all of these
sweeten is forgiveness
7 X 70
10/27/19
James Edward Lee Sr 2019
Vials of stolen waters are sweet
To the drunkard who drinks
As if he has not drank
Who inside is like bottled up wine
Pouring new wines into an old wine skin
Though he must vent, ready to burst
He considers not that the wines will run out
And that the bottle will perish
Thus, the simple man seeks another drink
Making glances and taking chances
With festive dances and forbidden romances
The winebibber staggers and falls into deep ditches
Full of the nectar and the dregs of the flesh
Under the tree of knowledge in fields of subtle venoms
Loaves of secret bread are pleasant
To the glutton who gluts
As if she lacks bread
Wiping her mouth saying she has done no wrong
Though she’s known, a woman given to appetite
Yet she puts not the knife to her throat
Neither considers the dainties before her
That such food id deceitful meat
The strange woman craves more delacacies
Making glances and taking chances
With festive dances and forbidden romances
The riotous eater of flesh gnash a mouthful of gravel
Engorged with the grains she grinds
That pierce, alas, like a sword and stabs like a dagger
Whose drowsiness clothes with rags
And covers such impoverished souls
With hunger and sleep, thus you must listen
Guide your heart in the Way
And be not among them
Lest you learn their ways snaring your one soul.