Best Ripeness Poems

We harvested the grapes in late autumn	
when ripeness of love was at its best,			
but deceit in the time of maturing		
changed the passion to wrath and unrest.	

Acerbic vinegar replaced sweet wine 	
and richness of flavour ceased to be mine.	
Betrayed was the pledge of a tender vine.	

-...

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Apples ripen pink, hotly blushing,
though the ardent yellow sun grows faint;
blackbirds sucking soft honeyed sweetness.
like babies at breast, show no restraint.

Mellow ripeness splays rich-toned color;
the trees raise scarlet armed applause.
Red-brown and gray, small creatures hurry
stowing provisions for winter's pause.

Copyright, September 1, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson...

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The Book

How good the night that darkens so
To guide me to my rest.
Where a favored Book lights up my eyes
As I nestle to my nest.

A few pages turned to praise the Lord
Seems too little price to pay...
For the gifts that have been measured
To get me...

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it might as 
well be my birthday
as i hold nature’s gift in my hand
i pause to caress it before i indulge
its form shapely its skin fresh and smooth
there’s nothing like it to ignite all my senses
i gently cut into the skin and each time is...

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He climbs up rhythmically 
keeping his legs
within a ring of rope 
like his life.

Intuition assures
the ripeness; 
life-nut falls down  
from the tree top.

Just a slip
will end in all end, 
but practice
rarely slips.

Though the ways are hackneyed, 
he’s honeyed and free
under his calluses.

Morrows and yesterdays,
he...

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My beloved Drino,

Take me to the memory

a neverlasting dream

which lived in yester yesterday

long before destiny took its toll

and footprints marked separate paths

Take me back to that  December night

where we ran holding hands

to the cottage down the hill

by fields of  evergreen

I am there, You...

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Blackberry Memoir 

Blackberries, round and glossy,
Always invite me to return
To dusty country summer afternoons
When languid waves of mirages
Puddle into shimmering hiatus.

From the gently swaying hammock
I hear the rattle of berry pails
To see my grandmother, in her straw hat,
Smile an invitation - come with her
Into the...

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21.

I care not a fat hairy fig
For your task to decimate
And predicate my world
With such villainy and hate.

You evaporate the sunshine.
You bring nigh the distant gloom.
Like a pestiferous browsing parasite
Intent on some impending doom.

Crawl! Crawl away from sight...
I reject all you say and do. Find
Another...

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From cloud-wells
Pour forth a quench--
And parting
Leave behind
rainbow high:
Our reach for heaven,
Extracting color
drawn from deep
enchanting sky…
Added dewdrops of
Fairy wings;
(Tints are flirting
Fluttering lashes)
Texture of silky, swirling
Web-sashes,
perennials of infinite dye;

We are Blossom Children--
Deep roots eternal
Not in soil,
But the maker of fertile-base;
His beds, earth and sky;
Of His many worldly...

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Written: September 330, 2024 For Edward Ibeh Contest

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A brown ribbon-like road with a blue sky.
A jungle of green, with the sky...

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There stood a tree 
Bare and alone
Many storms had left it torn.
The branches wept
The leaves were gone
No more birds sang their song.
But far above
Their hung a fruit
Passion drenched through the roots
It hung forlorn, barely connected
Many passersby’s assumed it was defected.
But then one day
A man walked...

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Watermelons

Dull, thick, green rind with a creamy yellow behind,
From where on the ground, it sat waiting to ripen.
Round the gourd, the melon matured, bursting the gird;
With juicy, sweet liquid, and fresh succulent meat
(Ninety per cent water and six percent sugars)
Ready for consumption in the hot...

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I've started my stand-by diet: a few different fruits each day,
and having repeated it time and again, I feel qualified to say
apples, unless of a rare and crisp nature, are mushy and generally gross.
Halfway into the core of one, I'm still starving and feeling morose.
The...

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summer harvest sweet
plump fruit ready for picking
a cornucopia treat
one would be wise to know how
quickly ripeness turns to rot...

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Fair Spring, a lady, palely loitering,
    Whose brow is decked with flowers and with dew,
Whose bosom births youth’s essence which does bring
    Unto the barren glades, a glory, new,
    Where have you been for every heart...

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