Best Hazelnut Poems

Musty antiquity 
within.
Spice inside
a cauldron 
of ripe reason. 
Five months 
unshelved 
brewing boiling 
now the suave coolness,
animals don’t know
how to simmer their lovebroth
like this.

Only the...

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    When lotus  d u s k s
         are sequined with a gown
...

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The morning seemed quiet when I got up from my bed,
The air was still, as I shook the cobwebs from my head.

I walked slowly into...

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I pricked my finger 
on a thorn of Voodoo roses
felt the stab of crimson
and sweet burn of saffron
in a tequila sunrise
I smelled apples but tasted...

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Rhythmic creaks and gentle squeaks

from the withered old wooden rocking chair

fill the sweltering late summer afternoon air

a peaceful breeze blows across his tepid brow

the old...

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Hazelnut coffee,

Barefoot on the patio,

Classic rock playing.

My life is nearly perfect

But I still haven't found you....

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You've come wanting a potion
you've come wanting a spell
you're looking for some magic
an enchantment, I can tell

I think I've got the thing for you
step back...

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The stalwart soldier in my kitchen forever stands.
Faithful, diligent and ready, at my commands.

He wears a maroon uniform and keeps me comfortable.
Be it sunshine or...

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the air is scented
with swiss hazelnut coffee
a rich aroma
stimulating my senses
to drink it ... or just to breathe...

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There you sit, my Love,
holding nectar from above,
strong and rich and hot.
More awaits me in the pot!

Your serum lures me;		
from my ennui, it cures me.
I...

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The sun is shinning and the breeze is a blow,
my table all white with lace in it's place and
tea cups in a row.

Fresh, red watermelon...

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Through tinted glass, I see cars have lined up outside, like a java-thirsty snake who waits to strike at the employee working the drive-through window.
I...

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Wander in my poem,
As if on the beaches of Copacabana.
Lay down on every one of its words,
as if on the warm, hazelnut sand.
Let the sun...

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hand on back
drilled smile
he milks me
from behind

vote Monty
mochadoodle 
moo


9/20/12
Black Eyed Susan
for nette's "septolet the puppet" contest

fabric: drill – double meaning of practice and durable twill...

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I loved those trees, 
limbs draped in plump wild grapes, 
bursting with flavor on my tongue, 
while juice stained my fingers.
	
Tall cottonwoods shadowed 
the creek...

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