Long Apricot Poems
Long Apricot Poems. Below are the most popular long Apricot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Apricot poems by poem length and keyword.
The leaf blower sweeps the damp leaves-
they swirl, spin-a congregation of tiny fluttering wings-whose colors are of a light grey storm- cloud awash in an October apricot- gold sunset.
The dead leaves flap like the quick quaver of the wings of the Hummingbird, although its delicate hover is solitary.
Within a sunlit afternoon a Hummingbird alit on a branch in a tree in an Autumn bloom..was still..almost like a miniature inanimate bird, yet zoetic, of course.The winged reptile was the hue of a morning sea.
And the Hummingbird’s beauty transformed into a light perch on the limb of the fully
flushed tree, for the weight of the bird did not bend the dove-tinted branch, not at all.
The tree is now bursting with deep ruby berries. Its slender branch, a "finger" that held the blue-silvery Hummingbird last Summer now lies upon a mass of mocha orange chips.
A tiny beast with sunflower eyes and sorrel-leucous dusky hues spots and chases the culled bony sprig as it is towed by her human. With this tiny leafless limb the cat is lured into her home.
A few dying leaves fall, drift gently, quiver, and rest on the grass. The leaf-blower...
I'm a boy, and I was raped.
You don't hear this a lot.
A child's youth is like a fresh apricot.
But that was taken from me.
As bitter as afternoon tea.
I'm a boy, and I was raped.
A huge scar, almost a scrape
People don't like to hear about these issues.
They say, “You're so strong, you're a survivor”. This isn't news.
Nasty people ask, “You're lying, such a snake.”
Their words hurt, and my muscles ache,
But not as much as it did that day.
Façade with the hope of connection, remember, such as yesterday.
I'm a boy, and I was raped.
If childhoods are so good, why must I be spared?
Thrown on the table without a care.
The rest of my life must be so bare.
Yet I keep my composure, stand tall, and write this poem
And while my hatred remains loathsome.
Sweet as an apricot, bitter as a dried grape.
Yes. I am a boy, and I was raped.
A vision of cheerful serenity and pleasures of life
My peace of mind comes to me in a dream.
Of white and red checkered linen cloths
Spread Across a picnic table
as far as the eye can see
baskets brimming with delights.
A remarkable assortment of cheeses
And crusty loafs of homemade bread
With apricot jelly to spread
moving through the misty ether of my dream
I reached my hand in the basket.
And grab.
A loaf of bread
as I stirred around in the basket
searching for the jelly to spread
I heard a familiar welcoming sound.
Of clinking and ringing and a clanking
And ringing and clanking clinking
It was music to my ears.
And comfort to my soul
As I instantly discovered, several rare bottles
Of vintage wine that was carefully stowed
By the mighty gods of my Olympic dreams
A contented warmth came instantly over me.
As I find myself sitting
Under a scented pine tree in cheerful serenity,
With eternal peace of innocent mind
And several rare bottles of vintage wine.
As I lie here on my death bed
Feeling the last beats of my heart
My only regret is, I didn't close
The lid on the apricot tarts
Sounds like a kind of trivial thing
But to some, it's a big faux pas
Little things are very important
To me, that's a major flaw
In the overall scheme of things in life
So they're not as fresh as alleged
I'll eat those things any way they come
Don't mind if there's fur on the edge
I think they call it **** retentive
And applies to so many things
Like how dishes are placed in the dishwasher
And how you must rinse everything
I really do feel sorry for these **** people
They need to start enjoying their life
Stop worrying 'bout all those silly things
Now you have it, my sage advice
© Jack Ellison 2014
As the spring sun rises
Revealing wispy clouds
Fog that's settled in hollows
Roosters crow, doves' coo proud
With Easter approaching
Thoughts of thousands years
Ago bubble up in
Memory, some tears flow
A triumphant entry
Upon a donkey new
He had never ridden one
The donkey unridden too
Was it a day like this
Apricot sun in the east
Or were there gray clouds
Did the sheep softly bleat?
The throngs worshipped with
Hosannas, in the name
Of the Lord, but did not
Know he'd be blamed
Blasphemy, blasphemy
Those accusers cried
They could not see
The Son or even tried
They could not see ahead
The future hidden deep
They did not know the cross
Awaited nor of its defeat
But only a short brush with death
Placed in a borrow tomb
On that Sunday long ago
He arose, He can't be exhumed
Autumn’s story is full of rustic shades
that echo deep from every vale and hill
of splendor and of forest colonnades,
as one by one leaves float and spin and spill
in frosted shadows and in evening’s chill
Dogwoods change,in carmine escapades,
to celebrate old summer’s standing still
Scarlet leaves and shades of marmalades
Shiraz, Claret and Burgundy distill
bright tones of nature for the soul to swill.
Amber, apricot and goldenrod brigades
capturing our gaze and hearts to thrill
Piles of forest treasures spilling in cascades
with dappled browns’ and caramel’s goodwill,
All opulence of Autumn to fulfill
Autumnal English Quintain Contest
Francine Robert’s.
First Place.
Title for contest was Quintessential Autumn
A Strand 1061
First Place
Published in PS It’s Poetry Available on Amazon.
~
Cotton candy swirls
on a pink flamingo sky
Late December wishes
that are slowly floating by
Apricot horizons
glowing softly ‘cross the hill
Twilight born emotions
falling on this night so still
Sweet seductive touches
to caress my quivered skin
Satin slipper kisses
moist along my lips again
Silhouettes in moonlight
move in rhythm ‘pon the ground
Whispers in the darkness
come a most melodic sound
Sighs that lace the heavens
flow from breaths in rapid pace
Tickles formed of pleasure
bring a smile to your face
Midnight moans encircle
as your beauty leaves me numb
Finding love this evening
waiting for the dawn to come
~
Apricot sunrise that changes
Fast turning to gold
Whispy angels' wings dot a blue sky
Fog shawls the forest bold
Coyotes yap yap in the woods
One lone lookout crow caws
As the roosters crow the sun up
The sun wakes diamonds' awe
A glistening dew caresses all;
Lingers; kisses leaf and grass
Pecan's silhouette dark design
Crows caw increase with sass
What a blessed morning 'pon the porch
A helicopter whirrs
Off at a distance, the sound of blades
Close by birds voices stir
Doves coo, crickets sound, birds chirp songs
As stillness encases
Not a breeze moves a leaf or twig
Down at the old homeplace
Dawning Desires
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
Good morning Soupers
the soft yellow streaked the terra cotta,
shadowing the speckled sallow saffron
a bluish buff upon the cochineal;
brilliant boneblack
grizzled the engrain
citrine carnation
as
the fallow flaxen,rustic rubrical
rainbow-tinted
the magenta mandarine
unseen
the ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,
reflecting a golden flame of raw umbery upon
the earth green;
bright mosaic gold
mottled the sallow sorrel
virent yellow,oak stained
the pale apricot
while
blood red,reddish russet
dotted the olive lind;
freckled crimson,
a chestnut maroon,
on fuchsias faded apple green
as burnt umber sank deep
into
its sanguine slumber.
a repost from 6/2007