An elder berry said to one who was blue
“My lad, is there something you rue’
The youngster replied, “I haven’t a clue”
“Let us partake of this here rabbit stew
‘Capital idea,’ thus Sir Elderberry,
‘I hear tell it’s an excellent brew.’
“That’s the whole problem,” replied ‘Mr. Blue’
“I’m only 12, too young to drink, Elderberry ~ unlike you
In the teeniest trunk of an oleander tree
lived a goose, an elf, a faerie, a unicorn and me
we felt safe and secure in the winter you see
our favorite meal was plum sauce and elderberry tea
we have become friends in the summer of ‘93
the first one to recruit me was the little faerie
grouchy grumpy distrustful elf was against me
unicorn ignored them and they disagree on three
Don’t be a silly goose said the elf named McGee
We don’t know anything about this newcomer she
we know she’s from Ireland with a fellow wee
This completely turned the attitude of Celtic McGee
Eatin’ me some pork rind
Listenin’ on the party line
Havin’ us a good ol' time
Drinkin’ elderberry wine
(Workin’ on it)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Salty!
Talkin’ on the party line …
Hush now!
Helpin’ others when we could
Simply doin’ what we should
Always knew just where we stood
Livin’ never felt so good
(Mercy me)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Crunchy!
Havin’ us a good old time ...
Wee doggy!
Login on some web page
Don’t know why it’s all the rage
Face-to-face how I engage
Guess I sure can show my age
(Boy and how)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Yummy!
Talkin’ on the party line …
Hush now!
Havin’ us a good ol' time …
Wee doggy!
Drinkin’ elderberry wine …
Here’s to us!
(repeat, softer — fade)
Lumbar ladies stroll by as the night sedans plunder the ho-dad hostels.
Looking to find nothing except another dozing cigarette beyond the cadenzas.
Another hot afternoon in suburbia with the repeated barkings of a distant dog.
Billy boy in his red asphalt-eating machine turns the dial to San Bernardino.
There is cool music bobbing in the hot accepting winds, south of Dragons Head.
In smoggy Corona, the dizzy Volkswagens travel in circles like demented dogs.
Billy boy guns the engine as he and the Mexican chick cruise in a ’67 beetle.
They pass the Chuck Wagon, as Slim Harpo melts the sun with Little Liza Jane.
Traffic signals, and the elderberry trees, pretend to dance to the muted cadences.
The hot afternoon winds play their own love-games as Billy boy comes to a stop.
Brown-eyed señorita with long hair flowing tells Billy boy to turn up the sound.
‘Music is life,’ she says, as the red asphalt-eating machine turns left at 6th Street.
Lumbar ladies stroll by now as the night sedans receive the night’s embrace.
At City Park, Billy and his latin lady sleep soundly in the cottonwood darkness.
Il existe une confiture de myrtilles,
Ne parlons pas de la succulente confitures de mûres,
De la marmelade d’oranges, de la confiture de rhubarbe,
Il existe des confitures rouges, des confitures vertes,
Une parenthèse exquise, la compote de pommes,
Il existe de la confiture de prunes, de reine claude,
De la confiture de poires, ou de fruits d’automne
La confiture de fraises que tout le monde adore,
La purée de marrons, la confiture de cassis,
La confiture de framboises, du petit sureau,
Et d’autres confitures de mangues ou de coings,
L’important dans la vie, c’est de toutes les goûter,
Pas d’en choisir une.
There is a blueberry jam,
Let’s not talk about the succulent blackberry jam,
Orange marmalade, rhubarb jam,
There are red jams, green jams,
An exquisite parenthesis, the apple compote,
There is jam of plums, of queen claude,
Pear jam, or autumn fruit
The strawberry jam that everyone loves,
Chestnut puree, blackcurrant jam,
Raspberry jam, elderberry,
And other mango or quince jam,
The important thing in life is to taste all,
Not to choose one.
vines wrapped around fence
neatly kept and freshly picked
elderberry pie
Apple many varieties sweet and sour
Banana soft fruit many uses
Cherry's are sweet watch out for its stone
Damson like a juicy plum
Elderberry fragrant good in wine
Fig many seeded fruit
Grapefruit similar to oranges but tarter
Honeydew melon lovely juicy type of gourd
Indian gooseberry good in pies
Jostaberry a cross between gooseberry, black gooseberry and black currant
Kiwi a tasty green fruit
Lemon can be very tart
Mango juicy fruit with delicate flavour
Nectarine similar to a peach
Orange sweet and juicy usually full of pips
Papaya also known as pawpaw
Quince very sharp like a lime
Raspberry most useful at banquets
Strawberry and ice-cream a summer delight
Tomato both used as a fruit and vegetable
Ugli fruit a gourd like fruit thats tasty
Valancia orange small sweet fruit that packs a punch
Water melon another gourd like fruit
Ximenia Caffra is like a very sour plum
Yellow passion fruit is similar to passion fruit normally cooked as a curd
Zucchini flowers often cooked in batter
Couch potatoes never see the light,
Seldom produce real potatoes,
Or much else that is palatable.
They leave switches on 24 seven,
And don't know what is the purpose of an off switch,
Resulting in bed sores,
Though they seldom get as far as the bed.
It is only the sight of grandchildren,
That is likely to shift them,
Into second gear,
And look for a cake of soap,
Along with a clean face cloth,
To wash the sleep out of their eyes,
So they can find their way to the shower.
If all this happens,
They might even dust the cobwebs off the cake mixer,
And produce something resembling a birthday cake.
So, if your parents are couch potatoes,
You know what you have to do,
If you ever want to see a plate of,
Sausages, peas, corn, mashed potatoes,
Lashings of gravy and tomato sauce ever again,
With carrot cake for dessert,
Followed by potato or elderberry wine,
Perhaps.
There is no time to delay,
As you might not get it right the first time,
And couch potatoes are notorious for,
Checking out early.
Now is the time to shut down the computer,
Or gaming console,
And make your partner's
Day or night.
Blackberries, blackberries, what’s the big deal?
They’ve too many seeds, and they give me no thrill.
They’re actually tart and they’re only sweet when
placed into a pie. Are they even good then?
Likewise the strawberry is not all that great
except if you eat it along with your mate.
You see how in movies some great lover dips
that berry in chocolate for his lover’s lips.
Think of all berries that you’ve ever had.
Cranberries, mulberries, etc. . . . all bad!
Berries just aren’t BERRY good. From elderberry
to choke(me)berry. And please forget the gooseberry!
Raspberries, boysenberries, and blueberries too.
THOSE are the only three I care to do!
But blackberries, blackberries. What good are THEY?
Unless they are sweetened, I’ll throw them away.
Aug. 6, 2022
For Matt Caliri's Your Thoughts On Blackberries Poetry Contest
As a child I would place my closed eyes
in them
while she hummed Gaelic melodies.
Her smock, it was brown
like a butchers apron
but without a speck of blood,
just daubs of fruit dumplings
and the savor of elderberry flowers.
Grandmother had large hands
working hands,
when they closed
it was as if her story book
had closed
at the end of every day,
and that is how she goes away
always very quietly
at the end of every day.
© 2 days ago
My heart is on an island
Half a continent away.
It’s not a hot and sunny isle
With palm trees all asway.
The trees are oaks and maples,
The winters cold and raw
The waves pound on the beaches,
And black-winged ravens caw.
However, there’s a warmth inside
The panes and doors alight,
Where musicians, artists, poets
Hold the floor and take the mike.
Everywhere the neighbors join
In churches, homes, and halls
For parties or for pot-lucks
Or attending winter balls.
In fall and spring and summer
The outdoor island shines.
Fields and scrub and marshes
Are dressed up to the nines
With elderberry, roses, and
Feathery waving grasses
And sunny sandy beaches
With sun-tanned lads and lasses.
I miss that lovely island
For a million different reasons.
My heart will always live there
No matter what the seasons.
When fishing is slow, there is time to think,
or I go for a walk, kneel down for a drink,
take note of the trees, the vines or a shrub,
exhibiting berries in - West Gippsland scrub.
Some of these berries I read I can eat.
The author’s description is juicy and sweet,
and quite edible if shove turns to push,
the berries I find in - West Gippsland bush.
There are plenty of words describing a taste;
why many a berry could go to waste.
Insipid, sour, bitter or mild,
aromatic, astringent, tart or reviled.
There’s red currant bush, yellow elderberry,
translucent green or a blue appleberry,
ripe kangaroo apple, black and raspberry,
purple flax lily and pallid pink cherry.
So West Gippsland scrub grows one tasty treat!
When you’re looking for berries that you can eat,
but if I were you as you search and comb …
make sure you don’t leave, your lunch at home.
There are numerous kosher wines, and they are usually sweet.
Without them, a Passover seder meal cannot be complete.
Among the flavors of wines are blackberry.
Another popular kind is made with elderberry.
If you want a sweet red wine, choose cherry.
Sweet cream concord comes as both dark and white.
Anyone can make a selection that is right.
As long as any rabbi considers them kosher,
they can be served at any Passover seder.
Alike an Elderberry tree and conspicuous
not a Honeysuckle sweet vacuous
we ripen with antiquity
an intoxicating aroma of iniquity
Folklore spirits rhyming in chant
Elder-mother wood nymph with plant
never growing obsolete as to everlasting
if faith be with red berries blasting
Blooming in all lands twas platinum
not of gray headed falsely handsome
instead draped with greenery youthful
seasoned in summer and early Fall truthful
Perhaps tis cure for the respiratory infected
such as the contagion affected
so prepare cooked wine non-alcoholic
and live a full life with this antibiotic
As a child I would place my closed eyes
in them
while she hummed Gaelic melodies
neither she nor I had words for.
Her apron, it was brown
like a butchers smock
but with not a speck of blood upon it
only daubs of fruit dumplings
and the savor of rose-hip
and elderberry flowers.
Her hands were upon her lap
and in them I placed my lips
and upon those lips
the four seasons came together
melded there.
At times, by candle light
I would read her old hands
the lines upon them
were paths of wisdom
I now but partly understand.
Grandmother had large hands
large enough for my heart
and hers.
When they closed
It was as if a flower had closed
at the end of day.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.