Best Pea Poems
Three pea pods on the vine
Odd wee bee walks entwine
Twitch, squish it is bewitched
Which three peas snap a wish
Fly lights on the pod
Sniffle the pea bloom awed
Fly sees three, jumps so pleased
Flip, flip, flip twitches its wings
Bird spied the bee and fly
Swoop down, down, down awry
Three pea pods on the vine
Bee and fly flee to eglantine
2/12/2021
Tried For A Nursery Rhyme , hope you like
It’s now crystal clear… I need not be told
I am falling for a Sri Lankan sweet pea. I can’t hold
My feelings… she’s a darling dame, a beauty to behold
She’s got a guy, but to me she’s more than gains and gold
How I wish I could live forever in her singing sky,
Her rhymes and rhapsodies ring… giving me wings to fly
I have promised my self that I will not love for now… it turned a lie
My heart is hot for a buddy I have not seen… I need an eagle’s eye
I have never seen, held or used a Sri Lankan rupee
But I am dying for this colorful… cute Asian sweet pea
I’m caged in thy colorful cell oh Crystal… you’ve got the key
Give me thy love, life and all; please do this to set me free
Your wispy hair that frames your face
Your smile so divine;
Those sparkling eyes, that hearty laugh
I can’t believe you’re mine.
One deep dimple on your cheek
The sweetest sounding voice;
My best friend, my little girl
You make my heart rejoice.
I want to hold you all the time
And whisper in your ear;
You are my heart, you are my soul
I always want you here.
I have an old dog named Sweet Pea
More wily than sweet, you’d agree
Who runs the house?
Not me or my spouse
No, our dog, Sweet Pea, the queen bee
* For our little girl, Sweet Pea, after 15 years with us, she is a part of the family.
Thick pea soup fog lingers in air
Coats the trees everywhere
Sun's presence covered behind clouds
The mood set is despair
Crickets chatter in surround sound
There must be hundreds now
Coating dark places under trees
Soon no man left to plow
The plague has hit a nation
One that says sin is fine
How long before judgement will come
What thoughts possess sin's minds
Now is the time for revival
People let's get our hearts in tune
No way we can stay a strong nation
Unless repentance comes soon___
Finis'
I heard on the news that the plague from years ago has hit our nation out west
in the Yosemite National Park..The kind that infects rats and fleas..If a human gets
bitten from it death can come..
There once was a woman named Patty.
Who certainly was very chatty.
Told to be quiet.
Said she would try it.
But felt that they were being catty.
I’m not a cook and rarely do
But when the weather’s cold,
I sometimes make a pot of soup;
It’s pretty good, I’m told.
A bag of split peas does the trick
With carrots and some dill.
Some hours on the stove and then
Ta-ta to winter’s chill.
It makes a hearty winter lunch
And warms me up inside
When others polish off a bowl
My efforts did provide.
“She’s let me down again Clare Cox” the ‘missus’ fumed about her wayward aid.
Now with the job to do upon her own. For other arrangements have been made.
“You’re helping me today” she pointed “And I don’t want any spiels”.
“Fair go” I replied, “I don’t know nothing, about serving meals on wheels”.
Well I soon learnt I tell you, the wife’s anger soon did heal
When I carried in the soups and sweets. She took in the midday meal.
We propped at all the diner’s homes, where the folks would say g’day.
Most were ‘oldies’ that I rarely saw, but I knew them anyway.
The ‘missus’ ‘neath her breath, gave out a groan “Prepare for this old one.
She’s a flamin’ whingeing ‘battle axe’, which can’t be pleased by anyone,
It doesn’t matter what we do, she will grumble and abuse,
If it’s not about the food we bring, it’s dirt upon our shoes”.
“Who’s that?” I heard sarcastically. The ‘missus’ gave an enforced grin.
“Why Aggie he’s my husband”…“Does he know what he’s doing?
He better not be like Clare Cox, that ‘tart’ tried to choke me”.
Aggie put a plate upon the table that held one solitary pea.
“Look at this!” She pointed, to the shrivelled up hard pea.
“How could anyone eat that, it’s like a rock as you can see”.
I picked the pea up off the plate, rolled it ‘round my mouth a mite.
Gripping the pea between my teeth, I found it way too hard to bite.
“You’re right you know” I grinned at Aggie. Still the scowl wore on her face.
I tied to humour her a bit, when I said, “You have a case,
I’ll take it to a lawyer, he’ll sue the council for your pea”…
“Well don’t forget to say,” she said…“It’s already been through me”.
Green peas and all kinds of beans
are split open to release their seeds,
like those peas in a green pod,
that mother cooked in a huge pot!
One of my dad's friends who wore a veteran's brooch,
would shamelessly cheat to get a delicious split-pea soup;
mom didn't know he was a cheater, and surely would have hit him
with the wooden dough roller when he peaked with a grim!
And mom slowly stirred the vegetable soup,
she used to say, " The longer it cooks, the better it tastes! '
And my mouth was drooling to taste those soft peas...
that I took out of the seeds' casings without miscue!
Mother rushed in the kitchen with a roar of an enraged lion,
" That idiot is playing no fair game! He is a menace to all!
And he passes glasses of brandy to get everybody drunk! "
" He wants to win no matter what the cost...oh, clever maven! "
The split-pea soup steams like a hot volcano erupting,
the cover of the pot blows off, " What a mess on my stove! " mom screams...
" It's all his fault that I am in this state! " she continues yelling...
" I still hear his big mouth mocking...wait 'till I have finished cooking these peas! "
Entered in Nathan's Laccese contest, " Two peas in a pod "
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I’m put upon to ponder the problem of poetry
& thus, I proudly or, perhaps, perfunctorily,
Ponderously pronounce with a preponderance,
Even a plethora, of p’s:
Poetry is pithy, prankish and perky,
Pertinent and impertinent, too
It’s prophetic, pathetic, pragmatic and proud
Poetry pretends, preaches, points out,
Points to, and down, and under
Poetry’s petals promise purity and peace
Poetry’s pristine, picky and pale
Poetry is practical, prudent, is pregnant,
Gives pause
Poetry’s precise, prayerful, powerful
Poetry’s presence is portentious and playful
Poetry’s a mosaic portrayal, a
Painted portraiture, perfect, profane
Prosaic, it is not,
Preposterous, it is
It is ponderous, political, porous, pontifical
Peripatetic and perennial,
Prescient, pedantic, possessive and puerile
Perfidious, perceptible, perplexing, perfectible
Poetry perseverates, preserves, perseveres
Sometimes perplexing, never perishable,
It pulses it prowls, it probes and it pries
Poetry is a perverse, precocious, pubescent prankster
It prances, and preens periwinkle plumage
In place of deep purple prose
A persuasive, peculiarly pleasant peacock,
Poetry promulgates poems!
Poetry, dear poet, exists
Poetry, dear poet, persists
Poetry, dear poet, persists and preoccupies
Poetry can never desist
Poetry perpetually propagates poems
And that
is the problem
with poetry…
Phew!!!
He has been bestowed with a poor pea brain
Being President can hardly to bare the strain
Does find things difficult to be detected
By brain which is like a loose connection.
(Also, flies off handle and is a loose cannon.)
Trump's interests may contain much conflict
And off a lot of people have become ticked
Forgot to mention with much apprehension
Each rank did continue to contain dissension.
Trump is same story that is getting old
Down river America is about to be sold
And into the past all good things will fade
Due to trouble he caused, created and made.
Start laughing and grab hold of seats
To wind start casting all of your sheets
Whistle on him we should begin to blow;
While Trump the Terrible on you will grow.
How about that "Mad Dog Mattis" and
"Trump the Terrible." Does sound like
something out of the stone ages which
is where I am beginning to think Trump's
thoughts and ideas came from.
James Nefarious Hililarious Horn
Hilarious is mis-spelled intentionally
originally.
Pea Soup
A lot of party people have perfect bowels.
What would it take to totally kaput Nork's military machine?
Same ferocity in battle as that one bollock corporal’s?
All along the periphery, East v West, their games of cat and mouse, thrust and parry continued.
Warpac Hungarian Hind and Yankee NATO Kiowa getting intimate in the weeds.
No one ever won; a draw.
Thirty years later Korea time destination central.
Viper v Fulcrum.
Nothing changes but the year.
one pea yeilds
pendulous pregnant pods-
endless cycles
One two three pea leap. Wow. A slip knot is neither a sleep nor a striped strap. But stealing from an arsenal area is not a wonderful idea is it really? Well come on....is it? Best keep quiet then and sip on a buttercup ball. Oh how quiet simplistic and simplistic is good and carved from a singular form of an art. So bake a tart carefully then. Wisdom in a whisk. Waiting in a wish. And standing tall under a huge blooming canopy of personified petals whose playfulness can portray peaceful pianoforte to a breeze. Even the coldest winds can be mellowed by such charms. Amulets linking arms then. Good. Portray not a salad as a stew and a fortress created from several million potatoes is a potent power indeed. But not when baked. With or without chilli beans. Jump then. Go on. Jump up and down and wave the arms and legs around. Causing cake to care for cream. And legs on a train are the legs of the seats whose tired frames seat many a fat curdled ceo on a wild journey to an office. How rather exciting then for the many cups and glasses placed in front of a portly frame. Tickle a taste. And taste a tissue. Yum then. Oh look.....the right window is showing a pond and the left window is showing a sea. Remarkable. Oh no a tunnel tube duck then. But no quack. It is merely the antics of a rug that can hug the copper blue. And the throwing of one pebble can release a wind machine on the hill. Paperclip is not a paperweight nor is it a planed plank. Ok then. Understood. Uniquely. A sham is not a slam nor a spam. And the delicate floaty fish in a chiffon outfit can scare a shark if dressed in white tunics. So always adhere to colours in an oceanic ballroom. Wow. Vibrancy in scales and fins. Swoosh then swirl. Very nicely timed waltz that was. And equally effective is the whirring of five hundred rotary blades who sing the calling cards to the wings of steel at dusk. Surrounded by over a million translucent clouds. Iridescent beauty. And a clap to hear. And all whilst the tomatoes form a pretty pattern on the tabletop yard. Hahahaha salad singing shape song. Hahaha floors arriving mind your head. Xxxxx synergistic syndrome symmetrically symbolised syntax xxxxx crustacean Z z z z Z.
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