Best Flavourful Poems
Walking in sailor fields amongst the nettles picking blackberries,
the brambles cut deep savage the mind. Yet the bowl to be filled
the jam to be boiled the bread of hope to be flavourful,
the innocence of it all enhanced by the beauty of this place.
an arcing rainbow
blazon sky holds cotton clouds
wild tussocks frolic
The village shimmers in idyllic peace, the veil of eastern promise
chases the setting sun, bequeath a heavenly sequin blanket, to
lovingly cloak God’s very own. Life had not changed much
in the place, except some men returned leaving their memories
over yonder, while others stayed away their bones to lay within
‘Alien soil.’ ‘England expects.’ Et cetera!
striped bees’ pink clover
rich meadows so verdant wait
wild poppies stand tall
Alas the hurt does not diminish for those left behind, walking alone
in their beloved sailor fields amongst the nettles picking blackberries,
where the sweetest words of love they shared together no more said
only the shadows the silhouettes and these moments truly blest.
dragonfly hunting
dandelion seeds gliding
wild wind song regaled
© Harry J Horsman 2022
A revamped free verse
Christmas unfolds all wrapped up memories
Along with wrapped gifts, bells, and jingles…
Treasure of family and friends in old oak cabin
…laughter and love surround!
Memories return tiptoeing when alone,
Recollections of joyful moments abound!
Children waiting anxiously for opening their favourite gifts,
Flavourful aroma of baking, wafting from the kitchen,
Stockings hanging with delightful suspenses,
Being cozy beside the warmth of fire-place,
Immense joy and happiness shared around!
Watch incandescent luminous snowflakes
evergreens are embellished with silver ornaments,
The moonlit night is serene, misty, and beautiful,
Do I see the Star of Bethlehem- brightest star in the east!
A baby was born in a manger on this day,
Wise men found him - knew our saviour had arrived !
Christmas is loving and giving,
A night of prayers and quiet celebration,
Pray for the world…happiness close and far,
No touch of gloom and sadness on this day,
No one should be starving, or shivering in cold!
No one should feel alone!
A thoughtful, serene night embodying grace and harmony -
My Tree is dazzling with tokens of memories!
Fresh and flavourful organic strawberries
Ground with the berries of our hearts,
Do blend with majestic creams
To celebrate this sweat-pouring afternoon
With a nice dish which feasts tongues.
This dessert is both life-giving and life-threatening;
She strengthens our heartbeats
While touching our taste buds;
And kills our precious lives
When she reaches only our eyeballs.
She is the landlady across seas and lands
For the children of sweet minds and tides;
Everytime I curate an icy day,
I believe in the right culinary recipes of her way
To carefully craft each scoop with her gorgeous grace.
My mother was an excellent cook, not fancy but home cooking,
Our kitchen was always full of delicious and mouth watering smells;
We kids had our favourites, of course, and it was spaghetti and meatballs,
The succulent aromas drifted and floated throughout the house.
Even to this day when I eat this dish I feel the love of my family,
It was not just the handmade pasta or the thick sweet sauce;
Or the delectable meatballs with parmesan cheese all over the top,
And how we mopped up the bowl with a piece of Italian bread.
It was the whole scene, now memory, the vision of togetherness,
Such a simple dish of pasta and sauce is still a bowl of comfort;
Always a family night favourite, so robust and sweet, and flavourful,
And around the table we talked of life and things that mattered.
I found my mother's recipe diary in her belongings after her death,
It is full of meals of my childhood and a lot involved pasta;
Alphabet soup, macaroni and cheese, ravioli, lasagna and fettuccini,
Recipes for long and short shapes, tubes, twisted and flat pasta.
Now that diary is my treasure, it takes me back to the kitchen,
Where mother and father taught me about morals and ethics;
While I helped with the pasta and holding hands at suppertime,
We thanked the Lord for the food before us and for our family.
But today, I still love pasta and I follow mother's recipe almost,
Except for ethical reasons I make mine vegetarian, still good;
The pasta with a sauce of tomatoes, basil, oregano and garlic,
So yummy and scrumptious, it gives me that feel-good feeling.
_______________________
September 9, 2015
Didactic Verse
For the contest, Didactic Food, sponsor, Tammy Reams
First Place
Now I fly !
May my gifts spread across our
blue-green Globe as I return to Sky
may my smile ripple in open hearts
as I dance on an orange horizon
may my healings remain
remembered balms and my
presence a white feather in
your cocked hat
May my meals remain flavourful
tastes on your tongue and my
touch soft breezes spiralling
sacred secrets
may my glance remain a
glistening gem in germination
and my breath a warm
whisper in your cosy beds
May my grey hairs nourish Earth
as I harmonise with angelic harps
my consummated flesh becoming
a silent magnolia at your window
May each slender match you use to
light your candle kindle my flame
that melts your marrow !
May tangled tears you shed for me
become crystal water that slates your
thirst after each marathon month
and may gentle colours of my
wash day become fragrant seeds
you plant afresh in damp Earth gay...
May soft indigo that vein my lids
cloak your luminosity in each
unfolding hour as ambrosia
arms to embrace my baton
you now hold aloft !
Now I fly !
Like melting chocolate
through scorching sun
and milk swirls through
it's flavourful taste,
so your concentrated
love flavours the joy of
my heart.
How my lust is missing
your onion booty waist,
like chocolate I'm longing
to taste, so your flesh
my needs craves your
soft embrace.
Like chocolate and cream
my taste buds needs, your
body I dream on top of me.
Just sit in saddle on top of
me and hold on tight before
we ride through the tonight
Like soup . . . poems also need a good foundation,
a flavourful base to build upon;
I have no set time limit for my creation,
though, sometimes my alphabets are woebegone !
Carrots, peas, celery and corn are like bright gems,
potatoes, green beans, beef broth and tomatoes are the substance;
that any soup or poem needs to fall from spoons and pens,
and of course alphabet pasta words must swirl in great abundance !
Stirring often my poemy soothing delicious comfort,
I am not afraid of adding a little zest;
in the end my alphabet creation will be triumphant,
and Zen feelings will stir and my soupy poem will be blessed !
_______________________
May 04, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Vegetable Alphabet Poems Simmering
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1453-594-04
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, A Merger With Food
sponsor, Natasha L Scragg, Judged 07/02/2022
Second Place
Fruit and nut i n f u s e d , so
flavourful and liquored.
Favorite Christmas TREAT !
Flour, nuts, fruit combined, and
for three weeks B R A N D Y laced.
Frosty cream top- a real,
family TRADITION.
_______________
December 10, 2016
Poetry/Pleiades/Verse/Fruitcake
Copyright Protected, ID 16-856-900-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, My Merry Christmas Party
Pleiades Contest, sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
Third Place
Where is the flavour,
That we used to savour,
Many years ago
Ripe, juicy peaches,
Apricots and plums
That made flavourful preserves
They were made by many mums.
Gooseberries and Raspberries,
Black and redcurrants too
Succulent, Apples, Pears and oranges
To name just a few
Make sure you have a handkerchief,
To mop up the dribble from your chin,
Nearly every home grew fruit trees
Not to would be a sin
Home produce is healthy,
Picked from trees and dug from Earth,
The labour was rewarding,
It most certainly was worth
The effort to provide
Nutrition for the family
To keep them healthy,
And survive,
Processed food was minimal,
When I was a little girl,
Too much of it is criminal
It makes my stomach curl,
Packets of seeds and granules
A lousy excuse for food
The advertising is misleading,
It states the contents are good
I try to steer clear of them.
And confident others should.
I miss the aromas that seemed,
To be more pungent in the past,
The flavours in fresh food
And the satisfying tastes that last,
I feel a lot of flavours worldwide have left
Please bring back taste and flavour.
Before, it becomes bereft.
On a recent Monday,
at
an ice cream parlor
I found
chunky pieces of clay,
in my
olde fashion sundae,
that weighed
like a tonne of bricks.
As I excavated
with my wooden spoon
I found crumbs
of an asphalt driveway
with a blond toupee
and three tokens
for the New York
Tokyo and Montreal subway.
Several inches further
I discover racecar pj’s
with toes
in full decay.
Swollen green
blue
red
yellow
black
purple
white
gold
bronze toes
laid on top
of a half cooked stingray.
Even my slush
had undergone
metamorphosis.
It contained
an unlikely flavour.
Instead
of a flavourful
cherry slush,
the drink was
thicker than usual.
I found
my entire cup
was filled with
``Grade F``
dog and horse pooh.
This encounter with
the weird and the bizzare
has taught me,
to take caution
when something
is
free.
Softly swaying within their mist,
Two swans appear falling in love…
An exquisite alluring full of grace,
A statuesque symmetrical sublime.
With a mesmeric moon to entice the endless night,
The surreal swans swim toward a flavourful floral…
As they illuminate the twilight realm under rapture,
A beckoning bewitching sweet surrender in a spell.
They expose their beauty enchanting and enthralling,
As the eye candy stretches beyond our spiritual sight...
Two stunning swans engaging in the dance of divinity,
Bearing witness to the most adorable angelic presence.
April.09.2019
Suddenly Swans Poetry
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
N/A for contest
I give you poetry,
fresh and captivating as a woman's hips
and perfume; vivid and colourful as the
imagery of
a tropical sunset.
Flavourful and lingering as the
cadence of pop songs and
bamboo
leaves set to music.
I give you poetry,
mellow, tuneful, special
as the jewels of dew drops;
sharp as arrow points,
touching,
scarring the deep
recesses of the soul, the imagination.
I pour you poetry,
concocted in awe, love , fascination;
rhythmic as the beat of raindrops
on the roof and
on parched ground.
I give you poetry.
See
I look up at the endless azure
Full of curiosity
What is it hiding
In the Hubble Bubble?
Touch
A cold embrace makes
Shots of dopamine
Send chills down my spine
And a stupidly sappy smile
Hear
Birds chirp blissfully
(Oh, how I long for such freedom)
The wind whispers, the leaves rustle
The icy streams sing sweetly
Taste
"The chai's a little off today.."
(Well I'd like to see you try)
A flavourful biscuit accompanies
Along with the savoury peanuts
Smell
Food has a distinct aroma
It's a toddler's ambrosia
The raindrops merge with the earth
The petrichor brings back memories
Come on, you have to admit
It's juicy and tantalizing
Tasty and delightfully delicious
Rich in flavourful vitamin
Uniquely filled with sunshine
Solely for the joy of biting into it
AP: 3rd place 2026
AN ALLITERATIVE QUATRAIN
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from flavourful facultative fiendish fission find fortuitousness favor
ruling : restively rhythmic reading reflectorise restorative respite
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