Best Flavoring Poems
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime." - Laura Ingalls Wilder
The Christmas spirit can be heard.
Heard in sounds like choirs singing,
Singing carols and heard in bells,
Bells gaily ring-a-linging.
Ring-a-linging bells and seeing
Seeing lights brightly gleaming,
Gleaming snowfall and small children,
Children with faces beaming!
Beaming, yes, and there is smelling.
Smelling pine cones and roasting -
Roasting chestnuts; drinking cider
Cider for Yuletide toasting.
Toasting Christmas, also tasting!
Tasting all the flavoring
The flavoring of sweets and meats -
Meats at feasts for savoring.
Savoring, the spirit is felt
Felt by loving and by letting-
Letting senses wake to Christmas
Christmas spirit try getting!
Lying on my back,
the warm sun blanketing,
I watched the cloud stacks drift,
breezily blown across the bluest skies,
imagining, dreaming . . .
Dangling from my lips,
sweet honeysuckle straws dripped nectar candy,
delicious extract for flavoring dreams,
visions of the joys to come
when I was older grown,
reveries of life and love
and children of my own.
Beneath the apple tree,
in spring pink blossom carpeted,
I laid out the charming rooms
that framed a happy home.
The hollyhocks lent their blooms
for babies hankie-swaddled
and clothed in petal gowns of white and pink.
My flower-children, plump and fragrant skinned,
rocked in cradles strung between the branches,
were lulled to sleep with tender lullabies.
The happy days of childhood passed,
and I was suddenly grown
with tiny babies of my own,
sweeter far than any flower known.
The kisses that I gave to them
were answered, returned to me,
from lips like rose buds formed
perfumed with baby breaths, fragrant and warm.
The childhood dream that I held dear
I treasured year after year
until I found it realized,
reflected in my babies' eyes.
Copyright, August 16, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Mornings, light and smiling
Coffee brewing, black
Meat frying in a cast iron skillet
Grease, flour and milk, stirred together
Gravy poured over steaming biscuits
Granny’s breakfast – typically
Grown to life from a wood cookstove
Noon, gentle sunshine
Picking cornfield beans, breaking
The beans and then washing them
Placing them into a vessel, a pot
Seasoned with pork - fatback
Cooking over the sweaty heat
Of that stove where oak and birch
Smoked with flames of dripping
Perspiration falling from faces
Who were encouraged to listen
With wistful wishes warming
Hearts who know Granny’s garden
Will sustain the whole lot of a family
From the Appalachian mountains
Evening, flickering fireflies
Dancing through the night
Flavoring the heart with joy
As the porch swing squeaks to life
Reminding the heart that loves
Lives here, amid the beans and trees
The biscuits and pork drippings
Grease for gravy, seasonings
And the mind just a bit gladder
Because there is this devotion
Family with foundations of love
Brought to life by His presence
It is their faith that awakens
The mind, the heart, the soul
To the light that survives the test
Of time, of memories, of sighs
In the air of reminiscence, memory
Breathing music through the night
Singing praise to the God of love
The reason for all that delights
The wonder of a prayer satisfied
To the memory – this is the good life!
u CHOOSE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Theme chosen - 15.Love
April 9, 2022
Adrift upon the ocean
bob a bunch of resting birds.
What is it that they call themselves?
A flock or school or herd?
Could it be this feathered colony
is a band or horde at best
No screeches, calls or gaggling,
they don’t brood or crowd or nest
Spread out like black freckles,
birds are shuffled by default.
Flavoring the ocean
dash of pepper to sea’s salt
Not gliding like mighty albatross
with wingspan strong and wide.
Or dancing with the currents
right by the dolphins side
Just floating in the middle
between the blue and green
Neither soaring in the heavens
or a coral dance routine
And there, what’s that beneath them,
beyond their paddling feet
Just some strange attraction?
Or friends they’re yet to greet.
A sudden splash of water!
Could it be a pod of whales?
Or the giggle of a baby seal,
nipping at their tails.
Will they look right through the jellyfish,
that flash and throb and group
to the gathering bunch of mackerel
congregating in the soup
But no, they’re not much bothered
by the party in full swing.
They just gossip amongst each other
While cleaning weathered wings
Waiting for the wind to change
On the ocean they sit tight
Regaining all that energy
needed to take flight
So what's its name, this party?
Of primp and craning necks.
In the skies they flock together
On the ocean, they’re a wreck!
Salt is the seasoning, the spice of life
The reason for giving out
Flavors to heal hurt
Herbs to relieve grief
Suggestions that fill minds
With hope, faith and love
Salt is the zest of giving
The tang that touches
Upon the heart’s feelings
The additive that suggests
We all need God’s healing
With the adoring light of living
Salt is the flavoring, the hint of
Hope that rises inside one
Who knows that love is there
Alive on the inside of the soul
Where the Holy Spirit lives
And guides us toward much more
Salt is the sense of truth
That beckons to our minds
Heavenly suggestions of joy
Inspiring the spirit to delight
In the wisdom of sending out
Laughter, smiles and gentleness
Salt is the aroma of tears and sunshine
The grasp of feeling inside one
Who knows that faith is alive
Providing a sense of assurance
Insight into the scriptural blessings
That thrive with pure inspiration
Salt is the touch of color pouring down
From the edge of the rainbow
From beginning to end, shades
Of pastel gentleness relieving souls
Of the sorrow, worry and fear
Sending love through that stunning arc
Salt is the essence of God’s breath
Sighing with the whisper of a caress
Gentle appreciation sent down to us
Who know that He lives and sends us
Quiet joy, hope, faith, serenity and more
To fill us up with unconditional love
Matthew 5:13 King James Version
13 Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.
Salt Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
February 25, 2021
Glistening through the window’s
Glass, shafts of gentling grace
Mellow and bleeding waves – breathless
Crying like rain, flavoring the moment with
Splendor, inspiring the soul to keep burning
Away the shadows, dark haunting
Hopes and dreams with a sadness that dims
Joy and reminds the soul that its peace
Is found in the moments like these, when
Light reflects a need and brings with it the music
To soothe away the darkness, lifting
Encouraging, bringing the inspiration, comforting
So that only the sparkly edges of a radiance
Breathing truth sighs like the falling stardust
Waves embracing the hopes that come
To life on the shimmering reflections of this
Seamless piece of a vision, an echo
From the musings of a heart who believes, who
Sees the gentle bleeding through reality,
Erasing the dark with a sense of forever waiting
Just beyond the rays that embrace the meaning
The significance of a spirit, a soul, a belief
In One who made history into the timeless whispers
Sighing out creativity in movements surging
Like the grace that hints at everything He sends
Through the azure skies and the light that is so alive
It silences the fears and wipes away the tears
So there is only beautiful combined with insight
To take the heart through a million years,
Feelings abiding in the flickers of wonderful,
Wonders that take me from this moment
Into the faithful promises of a prayer, a promise
Psalms that taught me to always see
The good in every heart, the worthy in every light
Who brings me through the darkness,
Never doubting that forever is just beyond
The spark glowing through the window,
Lighting up the inside the way He lights up the
Morning with a sun not nearly as potent
As the Son who is there for everyone who simply
Believes He is the promise of eternal peace…
The zenith of belief
Writing Challenge - 'Z' Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
7. zenith
May 12, 2023
Blood shall ring the butlers call
Step into the parlor
the fires spent, still burn
Painted in the faded tint,
nightmare shades to turn
Broken slabs of conscience,
rotted to the core
Splintered in a thousand words
never heard before
Gears abide the grinding,
slapping to the beat
Shards of incandescent lights
flavoring the meat
Slicing as you swallow,
whispering refrain
Caught like someone else's fate,
filtered through the pain
Dressed along the hallway,
mirrors shout their fear
There among the carpet stains,
distant as is near
Gasp for all you bother,
feast that final breath
Blood shall ring the butlers call
long beyond your death
sweet compassion
surrounds
my
heart of uncertainty
patiently flavoring
my
vision of life
sorting
fiction from truth
trusting
everyday Angels
leading
me forward
across
parched deserts
of
discovery
believing
believing
Religion in the public square is becoming an endangered species. - Mathew Staver
the lavender moon, in silhouettes of blue
paint my thoughts in melodies,
hues of grace and gentle peace, silent flow
tulips, roses, lilies blowing in the wind,
who breaths her hope across the meadow,
laughing, dancing, singing wistful
in trembling verses, stirring the delicious
vision of gifted words, healing
hopes that break away from the past
shatter the shadows with an overcast sky,
burdened by melancholic gray,
broken by the memories who prey
on the spirit, the soul, the wisdom of a knowing…
dressed in aster’s kiss, flames of gold
hesitating, burning away the doubts,
flavoring the heart with a feeling,
flowing beyond the still, cool crispness
autumn’s elation, praising, amazing
chanting to the moon, the stars
blessing the thoughts of those who hear her,
whispering, rustling through September,
passing by the rust colored truths,
embracing the silence and erasing the fear,
who comes to those hearts
listening to the rarest crackling of a tear,
edged in grief, distant calamity…
testing the waters, challenging the thoughts
who hear her mysteries,
unconscious bias, darkening the wings
who soar over the dreams,
fighting back the urge
to forget the joy that sees
through the catastrophic brink
insanity, the folly
beneath the doubts, the fears
tears blended with salty songs,
quietly pleading, praying, praising
because He is never wrong
His love leaves the moment calm,
soothes away the distant panic,
replacing her phobia
with assurance… He is silent,
while blessings fall over the spirit,
in secret promises, forever
written on the heart who sees Him,
in the secret places, always
saving souls from the darkness
of eternity without hope,
eternity without love…
unconscious bias tells me, forever
I’ll sing the song of thanksgiving
because, with this love He reveals
I know what it is to be fulfilled,
I know what it is to be assured,
I know what it is to be loved,
with love that is my soul’s joy,
love that is the moment I knew
the light of the world,
the light that is pure,
the light that glows so I know
the wonder of reflecting the love
that grows and grows…
so I know – He is living, deep in my soul!
POPCORN
White kernels of hot popping yummy flavoring,
Cooked in golden butter drippings, lightly sprinkled
To taste with salty perfections gentle touch,
At the kitchen cooks discretion.
The crunchy and munchy treat, to pass
Around at any family social gatherings
Celebration.
Fill up them empty bowls both large
And small heap them full to the very
Tippy-top, nothing will be left behind,
Trust me, for its POPCORN!!
Bucket me, bag me, but for heaven’s sake
Don’t deny me this mouthwatering feast
To the senses.
The comfort food of the ages, forget those
Old bags of stale potato chips or the dusty shelved
Candy bars, sold at the local quickie mart.
I’ll grab me instead that old fashioned jiffy pop,
Light up that gas stove of wonders, and let it perform
Its delectable miracle.
Slowly it heats up, with a sizzles crack, crackling,
Sliding it back and forth, over the low flame
Of salivating, you can hear each tender morsel
Deliciousness forming, within this silver cone
Of desire.
With anticipations childhood like frenzy,
No adult can resist, as you delicately open
This steaming hot package, of pleasures drooling
Lust, its fragrance fills your raw senses,
Exposing that inner need for what,
Pop, pop, popping corn.
White kernels of hot popping yummy flavoring,
Cooked in golden butter drippings, lightly sprinkled
To taste with salty perfections gentle touch,
At the kitchen cooks discretion.
The crunchy and munchy treat, to pass
Around at any family social gatherings
Celebration.
Fill up them empty bowls both large
And small heap them full to the very
Tippy-top, nothing will be left behind,
Trust me, for its POPCORN!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Her first mistake
while baking cakes
was flavoring one with rum
Her headache pounds
and she found
some crumbs
around her chin
The cake is done
but she wonders now
why all the rum is gone
________________________________
3/9/16
If God would take the moon
And make it into a great pie,
The sweet aroma of spice
And green apple would fill the sky.
He’d begin with the careful peeling,
Making the globe shining apple-white.
Then He’d find fixins’ to get it just right.
He would count the servings needed
For the whole world to be satisfied,
And choose just the right flavoring
To set all differences of taste aside,
But with all due respect to the bakers’ pride.
To provide for all the world’s problems,
God gives his secret spiritual answers.
So to the seasoning of the apples,
He adds His nine flavor enhancers.
With perfection, God takes no chances.
There is a pinch of peace, joy, and love,
For that aroma that rises above.
Then there is the patience, gentleness and grace,
So that humankind need not eat in haste.
He wants all to sense the goodness in the taste.
Next faith, modesty and moderation He adds,
And then more love he sprinkles in scads.
Here below our appetites we whet,
Our stomach’s pits to be satisfied.
Thankful for every morsel we get,
Until convinced our Lord is glorified.
Soon one could hardly see a crumb.
But we have no need at all to fear,
For at the end of daylight’s trusty gleam,
The moon again is a shining sphere.
Palma Christe Uses
Food additive and flavoring agent no wonder we get sick now
Mold inhibitor agree with this one mold could not survive in its presence
Ingredients in skin care products like lipstick_don't lick those lips so much
Part of the seed contains a potent toxin called ricin which is deadly poison
An infection lingered after doctor's visit
Momma said castor oil the solution
Grape flavored slime
Gag, gag, nausea
Vomit, vomit, vomit, vomit
Cough, cough, cough
Diarrhea all night
Now two illnesses, upset stomach and snotty nose
Thank God no longer used as a medical treatment
How could anyone give poison to a person anyway
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Contest: The Subject Listing Makes us
Written: May 06, 2014
Lest sink in
Darkness!
Grind my smiles
Which, remained
Hidden in your letters and
Trapping in poems
Make it a soup
Flavoring in clamminess dawn,
Roses shame, and
April breeze, that restless
In spikes
Lest sink in,
Darkness!
Present it to you
Moons, light up your night's lip
And become lighted
Flowers flourish flavoring the field,
wild waifs that wave and whirl and whip
beneath the wind's wanton waltzing ways.
Bucolic bees buzz blooms and sip
sweet sage, sacramental savorings.
A halcyon habitat, a happy home,
for blessing birds and bees and blossoms,
majestic, magical May meadowland, my own.
Copyright, July 6, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson