Best Syrup Poems

~Under the Same Moon~

P.D.
Our days are different, living under the same moon
Down here in TEXAS, life carries a different tune
This world spins on its lovely...

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Fall glides in on the wings
of migrating monarchs,
stained glass visions seeking respite
from a tedious journey
signaling a change in our surroundings

Blushing, the complexion of November
slips from...

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The scent of your soul

a caramalized breeze of fruit odours

reverbrating softly through my memory

Throwing me right back in ninth grade 

where we sat side by...

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The scent of your soul
a caramelized breeze of fruit odours
reverberating softly through my memory
Throwing me right back into ninth grade
where we sat side by side
Your...

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The scent of your soul

A caramelised breeze of fruit odours

reverberating  softly through my memory

Throwing me right back in ninth grade

where we sat side by...

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Daylight is greeted with the horrific stench of food chunks 
swimming in stomach acid, dribbling onto bed sheets.
Accompanied with the embarrassment of
brown syrup puddle stains.

Head...

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They would ripen all at once
under a hot sun and hang
in a sugary glut only for a day 
or two before starting to spoil. 
I...

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It gradually turned chilly between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Although Frosty the Snowman rarely visited our part of Texas, his pal, Jack Frost, surely did. ...

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Seasons

With a chill still in the wind, spring arrives
Clutching her white coat that slowly melts
In Sun's warmth, coaxing blossom's birth.

Humidity heavy with the scent of...

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Spring is here - scents the air
You've come from somewhere
Moving in next to my home
Your aura blooms bright n' warm

I'm Already thinkin' here's a new...

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Come with me to the Talking Tree
a place where spirit and nature can be.
Where science of the forest couples
with ancient traditions of the land.
Where indigenous...

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Answers were needed, like wind direction,
she could feel him heavy in her heartbeat,
it was a good weight, the kind carelessness brings to capricious carress,
his toe...

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Some people call it breakfast which makes me snicker and giggle
It might have been since it starts with a pancake or two
except then I add...

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It's summer, and sunlight's syrup pours sweet into afternoon.
We've come to the bungalow's cemetery
to pick over bones of bygone days;
touch time's tender skin, lay flowers...

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The Birch tree said, I want to be a Christmas tree
The Balsam Fir tree said, you can’t be, you’re a Birch
The Birch tree said, I...

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