Best Grape Poems
Black edges a turquoise horizon,
inking silhouettes a cobalt blue.
And shining stars, like twinkling candles,
faintly flicker in and out of view.
Color escapes from night’s dark abyss,
as shadows reborn are given shape.
And sunbeams gild the rim of the earth,
distilling reds into shades of grape.
Sound is suspended, all is silent,
a magical time, before birds fly.
Magenta clouds share shades of crimson,
imbued with fire that ignites the sky.
A birthing sun ascends from the east,
its brilliance engulfing all of space.
Daylight reclaims territories lost,
and night vanishes, without a trace.
Written Jan 7th, 2016 for the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings
The chartreuse pearls hung on the pregnant vine
as whispered jade of leaves in autumn breeze.
The necklaces of trellis did entwine
like clefs of absinthe notes in verdant keys.
Limes envied grapes reflecting fervent sun,
bright clusters for musicians then to splay
in shamrock fields with fables to be spun
of emeralds and pears in harvest play.
Cerulean spread 'cross effulgent sky
when came the time for plucking of the harp.
Lithe fingers did each picker then apply
and place with grace refrains upon the tarp.
In peridot the countryside rejoiced
while to reprise fruition gave a voice.
traffic jam grape jam
strawberry pastries meat bread
walk by faith be fed
Time seems to fly by along with the years.
it was only yesterday when I was young.
I enjoyed shopping for pretty writing paper,
sitting in flowered boxes with colorful envelopes.
The box I loved the best,
was the violets covering the box and paper,
with the matching violet grape purple envelopes.
I would spend hours writing my love,
upon these pretty flowery pages,
then seal the violet grape purple envelope.
My red lips would place a love kiss,
to keep the envelope company.
From prison he tried to escape
But, had the IQ of a grape
… His rocket (mis-wired)
… Quickly backfired
Now he’s all over the landscape
frozen on the vine
cryogenic flavored host
a time released smile
frozen on the vine
ice glistening in the sun
grapes hold on tight
harvest time has come
necter trapped in purple orbs
till glasses are raised
Freddie's Grape Haiku Contest
Glittering Purple
So pretty it is so sweet
Fruit of history
Glittering Purple
So pretty it is so sweet
Taste of memory
Glittering Purple
So pretty it is so sweet
Drink from grape it wines
perfect single grape
clings tentatively to vine
waits for gentle hands
perfect single grape
clings tentatively to vine
playing hard to get
perfect single grape
clings tentatively to vine
sadly never reached
For Alfred's Haiku Contest
This is not Miami, the real site
of the sea grape. This is a wannabe--
a biker town, a speedway town. Not
the fabled city of Dream Whip clouds
expressed into a flawless sky. Not
the cool Technicolor dawn when an aging
chick like me could still do her morning
run on Collins, come back home
to the high rise on the Intercoastal,
where in the mirrored lobby,
retirees lined up in their wheelchairs
along a wall to socialize, see
who comes and goes.
Here, in this faux paradise on a Friday,
morning mass is celebrated in anything but
Ordinary Time by a Bahamian priest in
a chasuble the color of winter rye. There are
no flowers anywhere, only trailing tropicals;
a graceful spider plant with its dangling
tentacles. An acolyte brings sacramental vessels
on a tray, as if to dinner in his own home
to an altar covered with a simple tablecloth.
Simplicity...in the elaborate setting of
the Saint John Basilica, Daytona Beach.
The real home of the sea grape
with its leaves like tennis table paddles
is where a husband hospitalized in Mia
with a failing heart valve lay in
the pre-surgery ICU fighting for breath
as an insensitive nurse brought food
on a tray no way he could eat.
The sea grape is a hardy tree
that reaches for the heights. My son
in Halifax Hospital is like that: a survivor
of surgery for a metal hip to replace
the one that failed. Bones---
nemesis of our family, meant to last
but do not. Unlike the sea grape
whose limbs grown longer,
stronger. Fail not.
For breakfast or with Sunday brunch,
there’s a cereal I like a bunch.
But to quietly eat,
one can’t be too discreet
munching nuggets that have a BIG crunch.
It’s Grape-Nuts! They fill up your gut
with barley and wheat goodness, but
do not be too miffed
if through them you sift
and find not ONE grape or one nut!
Its nutritional value is high,
but I pile it up to the sky
with sugar or honey.
I guess I’m just funny,
even sweetening my Cocoa Puffs! (sigh)
For PD's (LIMERICK) your Favorite Cereal Poetry Contest
And she came on an even with a basket of grapes
While her smiles reflected in the purplish drupe
She said “A treat for your melodious voice
A gesture for helping me with my choir’s songs.”
And so I took the present home
Shared with my sweet sisters, dad and mom
But as they ate them all up
I realized I had more than enough
The fruit may have been all eaten up
But the seeds are left on the stall
We met again, there were grapes and more
And the seed of friendship we come to nurture.
Through all the years her vineyard flourished
Valentine’s, Christmas, birthdays I was nourished
Her love and care kept enduring
Return to her a hundredfold was all my wishing.
You grape-giver are half-human, half-divine
Heaven-sent on the tenth of July
I scribbled this poetry with the ink of thy vine
For on this day my thanks are all thine.
Happy birthday, Gorgeous Melitte!
from the grape to glass
delights for eye and palate
migrants at work
from the grape to glass
delights for eye and palate
a vintner's expertise
from the grape to glass
delights for eye and palate
ancient history
slightly sour juice squeezed
from succulent small grape fruits--
this wine smells better
slightly sour juice squeezed
from succulent small grape fruits--
vine has more of them
slightly sour juice squeezed
from succulent small grape fruits--
raisins made for me
CONTEST:"Bacchus The God Who Loved His Grapes" sponsored by Alfred Vassallo.
Grape Squeeze
By
Ingrid Showalter Swift
Shake me
Take me
Turn me inside out
Rake me
Make me
Turn my life about
Fake me
Partake of me
till ya turn the tide of doubt
Quake me
Don't forsake me
turn me into... a lover's shout
GRAPE VINES LEOPARD
Dionysus
knew the way to his father’s heart
changing vines fruit into
wine
astounding Zeus with his bar chart
art
rewarding his genius making him a
god
while the Greek prune juice
king
he sent to vast pastures of ring
sting
In funky leopard skin loin cloth
partying it up in ancient
Greece
sailors tried to destroy his
peace
error of judgement caused their
demise
Dionysus
turned them to dolphins
tossing them to vast oceans
tides
Morals we learn from this mythical
tale…
never mess with Ancient Greek gods
sober or drunk their powers forever
prevail
Kim van Breda—2 January 2015