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Long Almond Poems

Long Almond Poems. Below are the most popular long Almond by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Almond poems by poem length and keyword.


A Strange Wedding Cake

Indeed, a strange wedding cake!
This is real strange, I must say. 
You must absolutely hear this, I pray.
Almond marzipan, on stands masked with black chocolate;
Candy laces and ribbons made its beautiful garbs.
I ponder; why in God’s name, eat all these carbs!
Seriously, are these black Fondant roses I see here? 
Quite an evolution from our traditional bride’s pie!
Well…what does this imply?
Dreading a wedding life with dark future
or does it symbolize breaking off with past lovers;
Invited surely to take the party's leftovers!
As the knife cut through innocent white,
dark jelly oozes out and trickles down the levels,
staining the spotless damask into perfect designs of devils!
Red marmalade takes its turn to flow down into rivulets.
The bride and the bridegroom poke a finger, each 
to share it and I hear a spine chilling screech…
All I see is their demoniac grin as I make it to the exit!


22/02/17
Contest 'Relishing cake' by Julia Ward
8th prize out of 10 - Glory
Judged 7/03/17
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Lemon Tree Flower

I know the land where the lemon tree flower
It is a magical place known to only a few
It smells of lilac and roses after a gentle shower
It could be a terrific haven for me and you.

Rich fine verdant leaves completely awe the landscape.
The sky is streaked with brilliant lavenders and pink.
Azaleas and primrose surround each garden gate.
You can walk barefoot into lush grass, you will sink.

There are mountains in the distant, capped in pretty white.
It is a short walk to the violets along the path to the stream,
I would like to go there now, without a fuss or fight.
There is a feeling about this place that comes straight from a dream.

Delicate white flowers sway from a giant weeping almond tree,
Dragonflies and butterflies often land on a shoulder.
Are you ready to go? I can be packed by three.
I want to go now, before we get any older.

Written July 15, 2018
Julia Ward’s Contest - Pretty Poem, Pretty Please
Form: Lyric

The Lost Is Forever Remembered

Remembered is the loss

 I sit in the sumptuous living room with my wife
we have a bed the king would be proud of
a lunch café on the first floor and den for myself
my old age is blessed.
My thought goes to the village far and beyond
the road up there is now full of petals white and rosy  
my cottage is where the road bends to the right
I see smoke from its chimney, a dog bark.
I was happy here animals and people knew me
alas, old age caught up with me, I had to leave
my almond tree and things that let my heart sing
Years of contentment more is asking too much.
Fly memories, fly to where the sun sets over 
the blue mountain range and into the sea.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Con Brio-Vaudeville Playaz

Don't forget to remove the Bay leaves from the
pot.
Make it easier on yourself
put the bay leaves and rosemary sprig
in a cheese cloth.
I'm in most incline to agree
yet some deemed them useless
almond ash and hickory ash
was used to create a super
strong aroma.
Pungent and earth friendly.


TENUTO___
The Zoomies
 a group of five
songstresses
Clutter ( a Contralto Alto)
Clowder ( Contralto Soprano)
Glaring ( Mezzo- soprano)
Pounce ( the Soprano)
Bunting(Contralto)
allorubbing
glissando
tremolo
trill.
Piano!
Piano!
Staccato< paino
an detached and fast tempoed!
She detached her relationship
to be seen as more uncaring
toward the male gender.
She said such allowed her to negotiate
from being lesser involved from actually
being responsible
inside a fully functional relationship.
The legend goes that 1n 1887 at a festival somewhere unknown.
A group of Women who were hired to perform and were allowed
to have concessions.
The woman (The Zoomies) were fixing to serve up some delicious foods.
An inspection by a local there
who looked troubles in the face with a laugh, came up
to the head cook in the busy campground.
He told the woman she better take those bay leaves out of the soup
before someone starts complaining. The woman didn't take to kindly to this citified person
turning his nose up at her with an order. She sat the hot pot on the piano (according to legend)
She went down in her blouse, and pulled out  her mini firecracker canon and launch a firecracker at the visiting chef. It's said the shoot knocked off the gentlemen's top hat. People thought it was part of the show.

* Point of Reference- The guy is said to have come up to the stage while more then 50 people( paying customers) were there and said "the rat and kitty stew smell like beef: that b*tch better not forget to take the BAY LEAVES outta the pot" Another legend is said that 6 woman singer corner the fella and stood above him and releived there selves. Ans said while the guy was enjoying his supper a woman reached down in her blouse and pulled out her breast and asked the man did he want her to make it a french creame soup!"
Form: Ballad

an almon tree and prisoners

Almond Tree and Prisoners
As a child, I lived near a farm, a farm that was
next door to a prison camp. Russian prisoners
marched up and down trying to keep warm
It was January with much frost, the year 1945
I thought of this today on my walk past my
An almond tree that is situated so well that it catches
most of the westerly sun, yet hidden behind
a Holm oak protected by Nordic wind blasts.
My tree is already flowering, and it has pink petals
shivers a bit dressed in a delicate nightdress.
The Russians had to wait longer for their spring
When it came, it was a false one;  they were sent
home and put in prison camps for surrendering
to the enemy. For some, winter is endless.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC


To Be a Kid Once Again

I don't need to remember what it was like  to be  a kid

 I don' t need to memorize where all the fun had been .

It was  in  the unique moment  of  a  first-born spirit 

without  obligations and responsibilities .

A  Brief moment recalled  and lived  in a dream.

Immersed in the  body of a  little brown-eyed girl

How I danced  with the flutter of a butterfly ,over and over again.

Dressed up neatly in a white collar shirt ,and a  navy blue pinafore  dress,

How I ran , breathlessly , in evergreen fields

 full of  yellow buttercups, dandelion buds, and  almond trees

 which barely blossomed through the eyes of women , and men .

How I jumped  like a frog  earning its freedom , doing my utmost  to catch the sky,

to reach the soaring  hand-made kite ,which kept  moving far and high.

My left -hand never letting go of that special red balloon ,

Mama's reward , on a windy afternoon. 

Each following morning, feet too tired  to get out of bed 

but  that lasted only till' I saw Uncle Frans'hat.

How happy I was to sit on his lap ,,  and listen to bible stories He read.

How happy I was , to lick early  fresh raindrops running down

my cheeks,so different from the ones

 I feel when I'm out of  my sleep.

Moments  to preserve.  ..

There on the back seat of papa's olive- green car ,

Our Chitty -Chitty Bang- Bang , travelled so  far.

Mum,dad, my brother and I ,face  'gainst the wind, 

Open mouths , Indian sounds , humming along ,

 waiting for birds'wings to flutter as they sing.

What a moment , of hide and seek,musical chairs ,

Of midnight mass and Christmas prayers .

I lived them all ....

 Splashes of waves, shovel and buckets on sands ,

Autumn's foliage , picnics with cousins 

uncles,aunties ,and friends.

Immersed in the body of a little girl 

with long noichettes french -braids swaying in the breeze ,

Playing hopscotch,running wild in vacant cobbled streets.

 I do not need to remember  what it was like to be a kid

 I am there, in the dream , I had lived .

 I tasted  pure honey before I'd been kissed

Before years  took their toll ,  wiped off 

sugar -frosted pink from my  innocent lips .

Premium Member My Flowered Vegetable Sweetheart-

Sweet heart my passion dear pumpkin
Sweeter than a cabbage you are my sweet corn
somewhat louder than the bourn
Deep into that darkness sprouting
Liken a flower blossoming
How they were shouting, touting - flouting
those the farmers and gardeners
They abloom allemandes abstracting
Ah, distinctly I was defoliating
Your stock, your stem the bud of your flower

My mind always strays to you you’re beautiful as the trees
I crave your sweet, shrubby sycamore
I crave the awash, abloom abstract almond leaves
That, that the moment my soul grew cute
What could there be more purely brute?
Sweeter than the summer sun
Hotter than 4th of July
somewhat more covering than a parachute
you warned me about the spreading roots
Come grow with me
Come grow within me, come go with me
Deep into that darkness rising
the palmetto seemed happy synthesizing
what could there be more purely enterprising?
And the Tasmania was utilizing
Of the emergence's that is realizing
Deep into that darkness pollarding
Deep into that darkness spiraling

Instead I uncovered the squash
There stood an engaged goulash
While I pondered, awesome and swash
Much I marveled the square cherry tomato
I crave the gorgeous, glorious garlic
Remembering many cacciatore, horrendous mounts
The many microlight mushrooming
Such you are as I am
A pollenated vegetable won’t you be my flower
Come my sweetheart my flower stand with me under the rain showers

8/26/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©

The Butterfly's Ballad

I get a glimpse of you
A soft hue of light lavender
 rising in my dawn
Gliding fervently
 in sun-kissed breeze
An ephemeral beauty
 enchanting the depths
of these caramel eyes
Your purple wings flaunt
in whimsical ballad
Sprinkling evanescent dew
across the embers of my heart
And I feel it,a florescent flutter
tickling my bare shoulder
chasing the back of my neck
teasing in wistful wonder
My blushed smile
 preserves the moment
of your tender brush
across the silk peach of my cheek
Of your fervent kiss 
fading in ethereal bliss
An unspoiled warmth of softened touch
upon the almond scent of my hair
My heart  captures the seconds
before those iridescent wings
fly high in sheer splendor
to crimson blossoms which bloom
which sway,which bleed their rose
which wrap their thorns
around my feet,around my hand
So I would not follow 
your shimmering dust
on promised paths
 of rainbow's pastels
So I would not find you
 in the faraway land
Yet,here I am,
On autumn's carpet
 I mark my footprints
Yet,here I come
So close to you
Yes,here I stand.

Premium Member Candy Land Flirt

CANDY LAND FLIRT                                   

                                            Once upon a time
                                   In the land of nursery rhymes
                                      In the town of Candy Land
                                 There is a boy named...Oh Henry!
                                 He thought he was an almond joy
                    While on his mind, I mean mouth he's salivating for
                                                Bit O Honey
                            there is another boy named Hubba Bubba
                             He licks girls then leaves them in trouble
                                      In the town of Candy Land
                             All the Chiclets kick Ole Henry to the dirt
       Twas a shame and embarrassment to Henry's mother Mrs. Butterworth 


                                                   4/26/18
                                              Copyright © 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Contest Name:
END APRIL STANDARD CONTEST,ANY FORM OR NONE,ANY THEME,UP TO A MAX OF 20 Lines
Form: Limerick

Agonizing

Because you have known,
like you look at my agony growing in it.
While she looks, at the spark she has caused
in the eye of it.

As I moan because of what she does and still
goes on I am fully spent.
And hearing
the wind moan through the trees she as well.
Bushes camouflage the disturbance of the leaves
and still the robin sings too and you do not have to imitate them.

The make up each eye with her almond milk that I drink running down to the sea.
And full of youth, she preens her green lips glossed, assured.

And as for that which with my domestically,
I Agonized over what will forever not be.
While hearing the song that she sings.

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