Best Scallop Poems


Premium Member Roses Roses Roses

In all her glory, dawn has burst forth,
With a slight glow of early morning brightness
I sit in the bower, listening to birds in concert
And admire wonderful, Rosebuds unfold,
Revealing a beautiful red rose
With a precision wisp of light prancing around them
Emitting a velvety feeling, so tempting to touch
Long green stems, prickles,
Full of scallop trim leaflets all in green,
With brown thin veins
Around the red velvet leaves,
Music playing on cool fresh air
Coursing through the whispering leaves
Sweet aroma of moist dew and rose perfumes
Floating gently on the breeze
Gives me an intense curiosity to embrace the rose
Just the sight of the red roses
Reminds me to breathe
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Seashells

The sun washed sands along the beach
hid ocean gifts in drifting swells
and tides would wash within my reach
a bounty of abandoned shells.

I'd walked those shores in search of all
the endless wonders I would find,
collecting trinkets, I recall,
held by the shifting sands of time.

My endless search unveiled the realm
of nautilus and scallop shells
and sand pails soon were overwhelmed
with countless finds and fishy tales.

Time moved on and I’ve since found
that search continues in my mind
and still those eager thoughts abound
with all the treasures I could find.

Those youthful days on sandy shores
seemed endless in the summer haze
and in my mind I still explore
those seashell thoughts of younger days.

Premium Member The Lady In Red

Looking their best this spring flower,

A vision of sublime beauty and fragrance,

Evokes all of our senses by the hour.

The Lady in Red climbing rose,

Newly sprung in blazing red climbs,

Weaving itself on a wooden trellis.

Its unique velvet rosebuds of perfection,

Unfold full of scallop trim,

A hymn of green leaflets,

Breathless and infectious,

In the gentle balmy breeze.

Blooms bathe in dew shower,

Shows off it's long green waxy stems

Full of prickly thorns,

It poses vibrant and towers

Among the garden bed

Beneath the bower

And other jealous flowers.

5/26/2021


The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming
 This Spring So Far Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member What Irony - a Real Fisherman's Tale

He wanted to go and catch scallops
gets into a boat called a shallops*
He didn’t look at the time
And had committed a crime
It’s into the court he now gallops

Five thousand pounds he’s now got to pay
A ‘timely’ error on the said day
This ‘scallop advisor’
Just should have been wiser
This fishy story won’t go away!

Poem based rather ironically on a TRUE story in the Manx press today

http://www.manxradio.com/news/isle-of-man-news/scallop-advisor-fined-for-illegal-fishing


*a little poetic licence about his boat but a Shallops is a sailing boat used for coastal fishing

15th January 2018

Biscuit Pizza, Shrimp and Scallop Alfredo, and Cream Soda Haiku

biscuit pizza joy
shrimp and scallop alfredo
cream soda delight
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

A Fishy Tale

Said a Cod to a wise old Eel,
I would like to know how you feel?
Though people snack on dips,
Lots more eat fish and chips.
They say it has great meal appeal!

Said the Eel to the wise old Cod,
I find that unusually odd.
I've never had to worry,
As so many eat curry.
Very few are after my bod!

Just then a worldly old Squid,
Doing what Squids always did.
Went swimming slowly on by.
Said he "Me, they'll never fry"
"They'll only eat me jellied!"

Next came a Lobster and Blue Crab.
Followed by a Flounder and Dab.
They agreed with the old Cod,
A fish with a succulent  'bod'
Always ends up on a slab!

Then a Shrimp, Whelk and a Mussel.
All went by in a hustle.
Then the Winkle with the Clam,
Who said "I'd better scram!"
"Cos I give chowder its muscle!

Following next came the Herring,
In a disguise he was wearing.
For he was truly afraid,
That the batter being made,
Was for him.  His instinct unerring!

Then both a large and small-mouthed Bass,
And a lone, solitary Wrasse.
Not to forget the Scallop,
Going by at a gallop.
All getting away en masse!

Next Mackerel, Haddock and Plaice.
Not one with a smile on its face.
The handsome Halibut too,
Was looking glum and blue,
Which went as well for the Dace!

Now to all fish its crystal clear.
Most of them have plenty to fear.
Be they skinned, fried and eaten
With bread - White, Brown or Wheaten,
Or soaked and battered in beer!

Rhymer. December 6th, 2016.


Premium Member Garden Trimmings

Nature's Spring palette and sweet nectar
 of bright comfort  bathing in the brilliant sunshine. Quote _ by Poet



A vision is the crimson queen rose
newly sprung its unique velvet feel
rosebuds unfold full of scallop trim
green leaflets breathless and infectious
in the gentle balmy breeze bloom shows
long green waxy stem full of prickly
thorns pose vibrant amongst the flowers

Garden trimmings with tiger lilies,
budding pink roses ,tall sunflowers,
golden yellow and white daffodils.
Latticework lavish entanglement
of sweet fragrant jasmine a treasure.



3/13/2021

Poetry Contest:	Flower or Flowers in Imagism Form 
Sponsored By:	Constance La France
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Fantasy Fish In a Fantasy Ocean

Myths and legends have held the hearts spell bound for years
Mermaids, mythical animals, phoenix's have kept us enraptured in childhood
One of granny's tales was of an ocean high above the Himalayas
Hanging in mid air like a globe ruled by a magician king and his doting wife
Sequinned scaly scalloping flagships in myriad colours float in water without being wet
They could switch their coloured costumes and genders at random
Their comic foolery held me in much delight
Loving each other and holding flaps they swam in circles
Singing sweetest songs quivered only to good children and gods
They could open their flaps to swallow in fruit 
And shut like an umbrella to chew their juicy delight
They could rock and roll into a wrap and twist and shake in feverish madness
When sad and I shed a tear I was frightfully warned
That the tear would scallop to their beautiful rainbow kingdom 
To choke out the music of one mellifluous scintillating sequinned fish
My dreamscapes and reality have been filled with their enigmatic lives
Of the fantasy fish fishing in their fruity coral reef in a fantasy ocean

 
Balveen Cheema
November 12, 2015
Contest: Fantasy Fish In A Fantasy Ocean
Sponsor:Julia Ward

A Floating Market On the River

Floating  Market on the River

A Thailand tradition 
Large sun umbrellas 
And boat roofs or hoods
And Asian conical hats
A bucket of cracked brown egg shells 

A grandma quickly whips up 
Egg, oyster and fresh, crisp bean sprout
In rice flour batter

Raw and cooked food
Vendors sell garden produce 

And cooked food
Prepared right before one’s eyes  
Plantain, banana, bean sprouts 
Breadfruit 
Coconut sugar, syrup and fresh coconut 
Poof- a cloud of smoke surround the cook

Another vendor grills meat on skewers  
She makes chicken, liver and sticky rice

Tart and sweet star fruit

Steamed sticky rice, coconut milk , sugar and banana inside its leaf
A sweet Thailand tamale 

A live band: saxophonist, keyboardist and vocalist plays for donations

Fried quell egg
Fresh and dried spices 
Fresh and dried sea food: shrimp, fish 
Grilled scallop
Cooked noodles
Cooked squid, prawn, crab and fish 
Green papaya salad
Boat brewed coffee
Soda pop
Distilled water 
Tea
Beer 
Blood cake 
Pork 
Rice noodles 



Marckincia Jean 
Free verse
09/30/19

Bread and Lemonade

One
What good is it, to complicate flesh and bone you've yet to know?
 To paint portrait a brain only seeing the mask-y Face, 
It is a canvas that is sure to lie.
 What use is it, to flee a golden palace for a teeming forest?
When you keep a garden, pregnant with bosoms
 And blooming fruits, wet juice down your chin,
Why be curious for soil that may only beget soil?
 Siddhartha and I find ourselves akin. Such possibility!
We starve. Him on Bread, I on words.

Two
I find myself encase in gasping silver, floating on some Orinoco,
 Holes poked to host the dry elbows, the crooked knees.
It is a peculiar box, and three sizes too small.
 It is a sponge sighed shut to a scallop.
Do you know how it feels to breathe Ocean?
 No. You've only once choked on your bathwater,
And birthed a conniption.
 I breathe it every day. The lungs were only made for air.
But it is not my place to curse God's hands; it is to swallow you whole.
 Would you be satisfied, Jonah, o Geppetto?  
You would feel just how tight the casket is,
 Rather than the sip of your sugared Lemonade.

Kilroy Was Here

Kilroy Was Here, etched in sand on the shore
Waves wash over the inscription till it’s seen no more
The sea crashes over castles built by children at play
To commemorate a beautiful day.
It’s my fault, too. 
Sand dollars with stars in place of Ceasar’s face
Most are in pieces, but a few managed not to break 
Shark teeth that can no longer bite are fun to find
And seagulls shed feathers that can no longer fly 
But might look good in a cap to wear with pride
There are corroded pieces of wood, remnants of the tree
Empty pearls float on the surface; others sink unseen
A vagabond rests in peace under the sun taking in heat and rays
A vacationer reads a book beneath an umbrella shading her place
A dead fish, a scallop, bread thrown to birds, remnants of a net, they wash up each day
With rice from a wedding and ashes that had been strewn into the ocean to stay
Shells shining from the sea’s refining on the inside
But unsightly and unidentified on their hide to the outside
Under the sand there is lost treasure to be found
Kilroy Was Here, I remember, but he’s gone now
It’s my fault, too. 
The tide at times seems ominously high and at times ominously low
But the shore will always be there I know
And Kilroy was there but is gone and forgotten now
It’s my fault, too.
© Amy Sell  Create an image from this poem.

The Bed That Is Mine

There’s no room for you here
Beneath my crisp white scallop shell.
Its cotton creases cling too close
And all the space is filled with me
My ballooning calves spread to the edges
And muffin tops warmly expanding to meet eternity
No, you can’t be here                                            (Even if you wanted to be)
Even the space 
Tented from my breasts to my waist
Is filled with softly groping shadows                             (Where you will never be)

Scrap

Scallop shell of old
First vehicle of Venus
Left to rot on blocks

By Robb A. Kopp

All Rights Reserved © MMX

Premium Member Sounds Fishy

A John Dory with rhubarb
Sea trout with beetroot
Fresh salmon with sorrel sauce
Mackerel munchies
Scallop salad cream
Cod and chips
Dip !

Coney Island Baby

Coney Island
And your windswept hair
Reminds me
Of Aphrodite
Rising from the platinum waves

Love is flowering
In my anemone heart 
Do you suppose it 
Mere folly
To think this mere mortal could:

Kiss your sensual dolphin lips?
Nibble here and there
On your adorable scallop ears?
Sample the rapturous flavor
Of your salty sea favors?

Seagulls circling overhead
Laugh and taunt
"You think you can have her?" 

I cast my elliptical net
Around you
A ring of protection
Ensnares you, my treasure

I know you are not 
Easily contained
But for the moment
You are mine
Glistening in the sunshine

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