Best Gooseberries Poems
As I am growing older and life becoming lonelier,
The past beckons, and though I had almost tossed it out,
The idea of going back to my native land and my people
Now grows in me as an urgency with no trace of doubt.
I shall go, my soul flying faster than my supple limbs
To perch on my native land that I left long time ago
To see the changes, these intervening years have brought
And to revive the glorious past that in me still aglow
To listen again to the melodious tunes, half forgotten
To laugh and talk with my one- time bosom friends
To enjoy a life lighter and less demanding
Free of all finesse, rid of all stilted and crazy trends
I shall visit each of my lovesome former haunts
The parish church and my parents' forlorn graves
I shall go to the village school which I loved the best
That still resurrects in me memories, waves on waves
I shall go wandering through the country roads
Listen to birds' shrill calls, lovely and clear
Watch the smile rekindling old familiar faces
And enjoy the sweet rustic air, dust free and pure
I want to watch the Gulmohar in opulent bloom
Feel the scent of jasmines opening at night
Walk through the paddy fields stretching endless
Enjoy all the rural scenes that greatly delight
Climb the small hill where gooseberries grow
Wind down my way to my friends’ quarters
And travel farther to the river side with my pals
To have a dip in the river's cool and clear waters
Oh, I shall be away from the roaring crowd for ever
And relish the peace and quiet, free of all grinding chores
Cling to life's commonplace things and charms
Find my own footing there, never to be back to alien shores!
Categories:
gooseberries, desire, loneliness, missing,
Form:
Rhyme
Have you ever tried staying awake in your sleep?
Or fly when walking?
Maybe screamed loud in your silence?
Well that’s the way you make me feel
When you make meaning out of a simple breath
Read in between my rhymes
And leave my mind to play like a 6 CD changer
Fine lines, silk hair, mere curves, defined eyes, lighted skin, pink lips
You are my poison, my glaceed cape gooseberries
You made me fall for music like Jamaica fell for weed
Steady minded, smart, easy, simple
You are the epiphany of my life
You are the only thing between me and sex
The reason you are made love for infinity
Yes I know sometimes you hate me as much as I hate your mistakes
But that is why I love you
So every time I l close my eyes, I say my prayers to you
Just you
That you will follow my flow
I want you raw with the bore
And the thorns that come with it
I want clueless of where clouds come from
And where the sun sets
I want you bad, real bad(and you know what I mean)
Cos the reality is, you just a pigment of my imagination and yet to exist
I know you are somewhere out there.
Maybe right here
Someday I will find my pretty wings
-Kent Mckenzie - Skues
Categories:
gooseberries, addiction, art, desire, love,
Form:
List
Sitting here at my desk
Two hundred meters above
I watch the bustle of life below.
The slow moving traffic, the crowd at lunch-time
Pedestrians at the traffic lights
Heavy blue-black glass blocks towering to the skies.
In this austere concrete jungle.
A few patches of green in-between asphalt ones
A blue gum tree here and an ashen eucalyptus there
At the corner of the street.
My thoughts flee from this stifling claustrophobia
Thousands of miles away.
To the sugar sands where once we walked
In the warmth of an ever-summer sun.
Blue-green waves tumbling with unrestrained energy
Shores framed by coconut palms dense green
Stretching in an unbroken line to the horizon.
Cries of the seagulls mingle
With the deafening roar of the waves.
The shells were still white-foam laced
When we picked them from the wet sand.
Salty breeze carrying our laughter away
As we watched the fishing canoes come in
Riding on the waves.
Remember when we walked through
Golden paddy fields of ripening grain.
To sit under the ancient banyan tree by the river
Watching the canoes slide past
Carrying coir and spices from villages afar.
Trekking up mountain-paths
And down lush tea slopes.
We gathered wild jasmines and gooseberries
And sat by gurgling streams listening
To the cow herd's flute in the distance.
Returning at the peep of stars
We stood by the gate
Under the deep blue velvet folds of the sky
Listening to the rhythmic clanging of heavy chains
As the local saw mill elephant
Passes on her way back from the woods.
The air is heavy with the scent of gardenias
Only the chirping of crickets, the hum of mosquitoes
And the gentle brushing of palm leaves
Breaking the cool stillness of the night.
And, I return to the vast plains of this southern land.
Breezes that blow unchecked
From coast to coast
Over blue mountain ranges
And great red monoliths
And the sun at its mightiest here.
Unique life forms, sweet smelling gum trees,
Picturesque shores that line the coasts.
Countryside stretching to the horizon
In the flattest continent of the world.
Special this land in every way
Its beauty and curiousness of life.
The land I have come to love
The place I now call home.
Categories:
gooseberries, beauty, longing, love, nature,
Form:
Ode
Everything which
separates as useless
idealism,
everything, but
sleep of leaning
gooseberries
evaporates and
floats. The skies
collected all the
warmth and
sweetness.
And I am nothing
just a mere winged
ant,
which chose to drop
its wings and settle
on a fiber
of fluffy
nothingness. I'll
pass
through sun,
ignoring droughts of
ground,
while living on the
cloud is coldest.
The skies have
gathered all the
noise:
atop of gentle
blades of grass
it blows and drizzle
in small beads
of folly
bringing solutions
to the leaves.
Categories:
gooseberries, insect, nature, rain, weather,
Form:
Free verse
On a beautiful June morning very early we made our way down to the fields,
The men had scythes to ring in all the bustle for the annual hay harvests,
We were a merry bunch and we stripped down to the waist in sunburnt groups,
At close of day we sat down in the deep cool grass of a hidden shady valley.
A cool stream clear as glass the shadows on the stream rippled and danced,
The shadows reflected circles of light on the stony bottom, a perfect day,
On the small bank an azure crowfoot waves to you in an evening light breeze,
The purple comfrey goes one better and dips its leaves in the crystal spring.
Hanging over the babbling stream branches droop over weighed by chestnuts,
We pick gooseberries, currants, ripe strawberries as the month slips away,
The cuckoo's departs and as a dark tinge of evening comes, glow worms glow,
We walk to our homes happy and tired over sweet bails of hay, lovely days.
Categories:
gooseberries, nature, light, light,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Chokeberry bush is gardens’ heart and soul
As it grows proud and tall
It produces barriers that can be eaten whole
Or can be made into juice and liquor during fall
The grape winding vine
From which we make wine
The wine tastes divine
And its smell is very fine
Black and white currants are like pearls of the sea
Even simple gooseberries about them have certain majesty
Raspberry like red diamond of African steps glowing mysteriously
Strawberry here now gone tomorrow remind one how quickly time will flee
When wind will blow in orchid time will cease
And all paradoxes also cease
The awareness of soul will increase
And alleviation of troubled heart will put spirit at peace
Wild rose queen of all flowers with wall will be aligned
One could spot it even if he was blind
Fallowing the divine smell and taste it leaves behind
It reflects the greatest divination of greatest form sublime and undefined
Categories:
gooseberries, garden,
Form:
Rhyme
On a cold and frosty morning I gazed across fair fields, woods and copses,
I heard a wood-lark sing a sweet song, so sweet, hairs on my neck raised,
Did I hear it earlier in the month, I thought my ears were playing tricks,
Standing in my back garden a thrush joined in with his song, a magical day.
Peering around there were tomtits hanging on the eaves of the thatched barn,
Rooks began to revisit their special trees and arrange their future nests,
A harsh loud voice, the missel-thrush rang from hedges and boughs of trees,
The missel-thrush became quiet, the hedge sparrow renewed its chirping note.
Turkey-cocks now strut their stuff they gobble and partridges begin to pair,
House-pigeons have had their young and field, crickets open their old holes,
Gnats begin to play about the insects, swarm, under weak watery sun hedges,
The stone-curlew clamors and by ponds, in wet water mead's the frogs croak.
Ravens lay their eggs and in a far off wood a green woodpecker sings loudly,
An elder treed discloses its flower buds and the catkins of the hazel grow,
Young leaves are budding on the gooseberries and currants begin to take shape,
And late February is a time where life is regenerated for another four seasons.
Winter in spite of occasional frost and frowns is now leaving for pastures new,
The voice of the turtle and the singing-bird is heard once more in our lands,
Frost and icicles hanging from high old oak trees begin to drip on hard ground,
A fox can be seen way off in a fallow field looking for nest-eggs for breakfast.
Categories:
gooseberries, nature, old, old,
Form:
Prose Poetry
what on earth do you do
with leftover gooseberry stew
do you bake it in a pie
with meringue sky high
or make a tart not so sweet
yet tasty enough to eat
how about that sweet jelly
got that recipe from aunt nelly
make a cobbler is planned
or don't forget gooseberry jam
if you ever get them ripe
those are my favorite type
you can eat them just as they are
fresh gooseberries are the star
but since most are picked green
without sugar they are sourly obscene
stew them good with cinnamon
add sugar and dig in
now for those boysenberries
how about a glass of wine or sherry
Categories:
gooseberries, fruit, fun, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Sitting watching a June summer king establish his reign over hazy hills and dusty dales,
I could just hear a sharpened scythe's ring across green fields cutting away at the corn,
With the hustle and bustle of the annual hay-harvesters bringing home a brand new season,
Happy sunburned workers work the open fields gazing skywards smiling at the noonday sun.
Hay hangs out to dry in the trees of the narrow footpath's and down haw thorny little lanes,
Everything now prepared and Mr.Summer rolls up his sleeves working to help with harvesting,
Each person delighting in deep cool grass in the shaded part an abstract of lovely flowers,
Then paddle in a cool stream washing the chaff dust from feet thus ending a hard days work.
The shadows of leaves dance along the streams a silhouette waltzes upon the silvery water,
Lovely azure crowfoot salutes from a bank to a forget-me-not an old friend from last year,
A purple compfrey dips its leaves to sweeten the water joined by a warm and gentle breeze,
The birds sing from the trees and in the hedgerows while the nightingale tweets a sad tune.
On trees chestnuts begin to grow and acorns young and green sitting in their little cups,
The nuts from the hazel and the apples on trees in orchards promise a ripe autumn harvest,
Gooseberries for pies, currants and strawberries ripen growing in the hedges of old lanes,
June has taken his fair turn making spring shoots grow strong, ready for the later fruits.
The cuckoo departs and glow worms emerge on a summer's night and glows a tiny little glow,
Along heath and over the meadows across landscaped fields dotted with pretty wild flowers,
The June summer heat gives strength to nature making grass lime green next to red poppies,
As the summer harvest quietens the work nearly done people rest and reflect on golden mead's.
Categories:
gooseberries, nature, old, work, summer,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Fruit Fairies
Green luscious trees sway gracefully in breeze
humming song sung by work pollen bees
baby fruits cradled not yet ripen to fall
many are ready but some still too small
Laden with fruit rich, juicy and ripe
natures jewels sparkling delights
oranges, plums, pears, apples galore
once tasted you will always want more
Raspberries, strawberries and currants of blue
beautiful colours all natural and true
blackberries, apricots, gooseberries green
melons and mangoes even tangerines
Lemons so bright bed lights to be seen
fruit fairies dancing among all the green
they are the guardians who nurture them all
working and caring protectors when called
Unicorn sprinkles star dust they apply
diamonds drop dews, rain from the sky
foods for the fruits all natural and clean
no chemicals be used, always grown green
As dusk draws in, their wings tired and slow
fireflies wake lights delicately glows
lay rest their heads on white cotton to sleep
eyes tiredly shut no fairy does peep
Fruit salad, fruit medley bring such harmony
all healthy when eaten moderately
so children when mum and dad say this be true
fruit fairies grew these especially for you
If you hear little laughter or feel tickle of air
know that a fairy is very near
happy, smiling, flying with glee
healthy our children - earth future trustees
29.08.20
Categories:
gooseberries, children, fairy, fruit, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
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.
Categories:
gooseberries, 10th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
A long time ago-or so the story is told,
There was a strange occurrence in the Europe of old.
High atop a windswept, alpine peak,
Lived a girl fair of face and rosy of cheek.
She would gather wild berries which grew all around,
And carry them down to sell in the town:
Trays of raspberries, strawberries, and gooseberries too,
Huckleberries, blackberries, and berries of blue.
Known as Mary-of-the-berries, she attained much fame,
For her smile, her laughter- and her very strange name'
Peace and joy followed where'er she went;
And in her presence, all people felt quite content.
The townsfolk decided there would be nothing contrary,
By simply changing her name to Mary Berry.
She loved all the people and, as she peddled her wares,
She looked for ways to show that she cared.
A smile, a kind word, or perhaps a small gift;
When folks felt weary, Mary gave their sprit a lift,
You see, back on the mountain, in her hut of sod,
Mary conversed for hours with the Lord, her God.
Spending so much time with Him filled her with love,
That she just had to share what her heart was full of'
For years she prayed that God might show her a way,
To help the townspeople celebrate her Saviour's Birthday.
Then, in her spirit, she was able to see.
All her friends decorating one large evergreen tree.
There would be plenty of candles for the Light of the World'
And bright colored ribbons unfurled'
Families gathering to help one another.
Even giving of gifts to sister and brother.
Now that these traditions have been handed down to you,
Go, and have a Mary Berry Christmas too'
Arthur Ball (H.S.L.P.)
December 12, 2006
Categories:
gooseberries, faithpeople, people, time,
Form:
Rhyme
As I wake up in the morning
Scent of freshly bloomed jasmine floats in air
I walk out to the garden
Fresh blooms sway in wind
I walk toward night jasmine tree
Pick up fallen flowers
They smell heavenly
Placing them in living room
I start my day with ginger tea
I grate ginger add water and boil
Smell of ginger and then tea leaves...
Aroma of ginger tea fills the house
After tea, for breakfast I take out all ingredients
Fresh coriander, green chillies, jaggery asafoetida, gooseberries
Each gives out a distinct aroma
As I eat, I savour the aroma of freshly ground ingredients
For lunch, I use another set of spices
Cinnamon, garlic, cloves, turmeric, chillies, nutmeg
Fragrance of basmati rice mixed with spices and clarified butter feels divine
When sun goes off to sleep, night jasmine blooms
I sit in garden with a cup of coffee
Aroma of fresh coffee, and jasmine gives bountiful joy
Everything in nature has a distinct perfume
Smell of wet mud, smell of sea, smell of leaves
Each fruit and vegetable smells differently
All humans have distinct body odour
Aromas de-stress us,
Smell tells us a thing is good or bad
During a walk in nature trail,
multifarious unique scent caress us.
It is healing and happiness giving
God has perfumed everything for us to enjoy
Be in the moment, enjoy.
22.03.2021
Placed 1st in Brain Strand contest
Placed 2nd in favourite scent contest by Chantelle Anne Cook
Categories:
gooseberries, nature,
Form:
Imagism
Kenetic examples of wildlife are enjoyed after sipping green teas. But antelope sway at dusk. So be wary of teapots in tree houses. Gooseberries are often found loitering in desert yachts whilst porcupines are oblivious to sugar beet. Many an octopus are said to be humbled by the wandering lettuce but hieroglyphs are but a portal to mushy peas. A halibut always talks very very very slowly. The clock yawns. The bell grins. Please be aware that very playful ants in hats coats and shirts can cause great havoc in a bistro. Wreaking a great godly view to an unjustified pillar. A suit of armour would be rather ashamed at such antics. So one must gather molluscs for a stew in the lands of the giant amphibians. Dandelions on a bed of corn flour often tell stories of ancient snow clouds while orangutans can bury many coffee beans. Unforgotten is the tirade of the slouching shrimp in a teapot of sponge. And a galvanised pediatrician is not allowed to ponder on a two hundred foot pedestal. Ok. And a misjudged mishap mayhem moving movements monstrously. Hahahaha now eat a donut hahahaha and a toast of course. Xxxx havens heaping have xxxx miscalculation z.
Categories:
gooseberries, baptism,
Form:
Hearing the maids cry: "Come walk through our orchard Come buy,come buy:
Apples and berries, Lemons and Raspberries, Melons and Raspberries,
Plump picked cherries, Smooth checked peaches, Pine-apple, Blackberries,
Apricots, Strawberries,There all ripe together In Summer weather,
Morning passes by, Fair eves that fly; Come buy, come buy; Grapes fresh from the vine, Pomegranates full and fresh, Dates sharp as an eastern delight, Pears juicy with one bite, Taste them and try; Currants and gooseberries, Bright as the Loganberries,
Figs fill your mouth, Citrons from the South, Taste sweet to the tongue,
With sound to the eye: Come buy,come buy."
Categories:
gooseberries, morning,
Form:
Free verse