Long Bergamot Poems
Long Bergamot Poems. Below are the most popular long Bergamot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bergamot poems by poem length and keyword.
Part 1 Diagnosis
I. Surgery
Surgery—
Today cuts yesterday—
the calendar blade.
You carve the year's new initials.
The beech—scarred—
keeps its reverie-venant
in smooth wood.
========
II. The Future, Uninvited
The future isn't knocking—
inside already, thumbnail
at the doorframe's paint.
Wood smoke. Bergamot—ash.
That cologne of Occurrence—
you still holding
the empty shot glass.
==========
III. No Reset
The heart does not reset at midnight—
the liver does not forgive.
Neurons fire their exhausted patterns:
flinching—craving—glass
in hand again—shuddering like the heat-pump
kicking on as you almost—
almost—
sleep.
Your face in the mirror—
steady—
waiting to see
if you'll
disappoint it.
==========
IV. Rings
Rings on the counter—
like your mother's plant
left years on the sill:
Live Evidence—
no one bothered to move.
The kitchen smells of nothing yet—
that early sadness of resolutions
you haven't—
not yet—
betrayed.
=========
V. What Continues
The self does not reset—
continues—
playing song in an empty room.
We drag it all:
rage swallowed at the feast,
the lover whose face we can't recall
the Ledger—
left blank
the moment we said fine—
Meaning—so far—from Fine—
I’ve forgotten—what Fine—looked like.
===========
VI. Threshold
Fear crosses the threshold—
checking your phone at every red light
eating over the sink
so it doesn't count as hunger
chewing your cheek until it tastes of copper
the way you say sorry
before you've even spoken—
all of it followed.
That stray you fed once—
you woke up one morning
and it had become you.
Or you had become it.
Now when you look in the mirror
you can't tell
if you're wearing its face
or it's wearing yours.
Either way, you've stopped
asking which one got fed.
Good dog.
I smell something so beautiful!
Many different fragrances are drifting toward me.
So many sachets of poetry are prettily displayed.
Such visual delights!
I stoop to relish one - a citrus blend
with sweet anise and cinnamon.
Ah! How fun this poem is with its taste of licorice!
And here’s one that is rather sensuous.
Its aroma is the clove,
clary sage, bergamot, and rose.
How luscious! I linger at this one for a while. . .
Now I lean in toward the scent of chamomile.
This poem soothes the spirit
with its lavender and jasmine blooms in it.
Oh, here is one not only sweet but spicy!
Coriander wafts my way
with cinnamon and ginger. Such a treat to savor!
Next I view a bowl
filled with myrrh and frankincense.
And what else?
Why, it’s the earthy scent of sandalwood
with a touch of patchouli for good measure.
My, this is an epic poem to treasure.
Right next to it I spy a tiny one -
a packet of herbs and other little things,
But oh, how sweet its fragrance
of nutmeg, citrus and vanilla. Indeed, I’ve found a gem.
And here is one completely fresh - a most creative blend
of lemon, lavender and pine. It is divine!
Now a strong scent of sweetness comes to me,
This time from lavender laced
with small petals Of germaniums, and again,
the wondrous cinnamon
that takes my mind far back
to sentimental scenes of childhood.
Balsamic and earthy is the final poem that tempts me
with cedar wood, spruce and fir -
another one with thoughts of life and nature
to ponder as I linger one last time. . .
Then I must leave this sanctuary.
Day after day -
how I love to fill my senses
with poetry potpourri!
May 1, 2016 for Linda's Poetry _______ (fill in the blank) Poetry Contest
(hope I did it right this time!)
Suspense creeps in with tea and crumpets, dear,
And murder, mayhem, chaos, stirred right in
—Poet Stirring Up Suspense
IT IS TIME FOR TEA
It is time for tea, a giddyup I need.
Water is boiling in the glass pot.
Sublime scent and flavor guaranteed
and great to sip with a story plot.
The warmth of Earl and Lady Grey,
with bergamot or peel of orange-lemon.
So arousing - a nose and tongue touché
as well as the development of dilemma in
my cute mystery novel. The dust cover
shows a striped gray kitten and steaming
cup of peppermint tea. A Christmas lover,
I sup on crumpets and choice daydreaming.
Whether herbal hibiscus, cherry or chai
in this cockcrow explosion of birdsong,
I live for and long for the climatic high.
My brain fog’s lifted, character’s are strong.
It is an intoxicating concoction, time well spent
to awaken this poet’s muse, cozy in red pajamas.
It is time for tea, the steeping and bent
of a stupendous cup, steaming with sunrise dramas.
Trudging up a slate strewn track,
storm clouds gather.” Let’s turn back.”
As expected son slips over,
knee is cut, face like thunder.
“We should have turned left by the wall,
but, as usual you know it all.”
Two hours later find the path,
grimy rings around the bath.
Muddy boots line the hall,
grubby hand prints on the wall.
Sipping on some Pinot Gris,
his lordship states, “That was a breeze.”
“Tomorrow I want to reach that rock,
the escarpment at the top”.
Puts down her tea with Bergamot
“Do what you like, do what you want”.
Plasters on a mud face pack,
rolls her eyes and turns her back.
GRAY - For: Color My World - Nette Onclaud
by Patricia Lucas-Clarke
Tell me, what are you drinking,
I would tell you who you are, yes,
Tea or chamomile,
Some pink bergamot,
A coffee always iced,
Who will drink bourbon,
If Cécilia leaves him, OR Marie,
Who will drink cognac?
Tell me, what are you drinking,
Jurançon or hot chocolate,
Monbazillac to sleep again,
Some Caipirinha to dream of Gaelle,
I’ll tell you who you are. Oh yes.
14
Tell me, what are you drinking,
Champagne on Sundays,
Bergamot tea, or milk
Or sweet carrot juice,
I’ll tell you who you are.
Summer can be deadly,
It’s better to quench your thirst,
On the beach of Malibu,
Tell me, what are you drinking,
A banana milk shake,
in Damascus or Portland,
An iced tea with lemon,
I’d offer you another drink.
“dans le heure bleue"
My skin feels alive
when you are
next to me
blood pulsing
from the core
of me
Root Chakra Red
My throat exposed
the Wolf now
lies next to me
in my warm bed
savage and smiling
he is seen, he
smells of
fresh crushed green
pine leaves
lemon
basil
bergamot
a heart blooming
with jasmine
rose
carnation
coriander
patchouli
sandalwood
and iris root, then
I’m on my knees
genuflecting
he says,
“Come here,"
He kisses me
and tastes
like
Star Anise
"sauvage
je reviens
vers vous
Rouge
dans le
heure bleue..."
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
V.S.A.S.
"Scent of a Woman
rising from
the Oceans blue
necklace of pearls
on a clam shell
salt and air
silver cut grass
then earthed
terra australis
Red"
Written: December 28, 2023
Beneath the shades
of velvet shadows
swarms of amber
luminance of daylight
and elusive flits
of faerie embers.
Veiled in jeweled which
rhymed with
Calyx elixir tints
of moonlit hues,
wings of light fractals
of burnished baubles.
Serendipitous breeze
scribbling rimes
of a runic serenade
in glints of jades
and emeralds.
wisps of wood smoke
soft mists of
Myrrh and Frankincense
fragrance of
Amyris and Bergamot.
Life has been beckoned.
by the sun messenger.
In that aurifying light,
crisscrossing balmily
and all at once.
With your shifting cloak,
snail
silver tree,
life is futile
& vain as smoke.
with your beshrews roads
case of curiosity
devoted to
the art of taxidermy,
decorative, restorative
and anthropomorphic.
A canorous dream,
capacious
mellifluous
Hurry past me!
A Simple Pleasure
A simple pleasure in simple lines
Frosty mornings, that wear fuzzy slippers,
Bundled against the dawning amber chill
To watch the early robins through misted windows
With fragrant Lady Grey in stoneware mugs
And crispy buttered English muffins
Spread with marmalade.
On a rain soaked early afternoon
When raindrops tumble down rain chains,
As puddles drip from bare branches,
To settle in a comfy chair
With a warming bergamot scented
Cup of tea and little chocolate something.
And when the wind howls in icicles
And evening snow falls in frigid fingers,
Wrapping roads and rooftops in white blankets,
To view the snow blind fury from the fireside
With a spicy pekoe brew in a china cup
From garden parties long ago and faraway.
A simple pleasure in simple lines.
2-9-23
Contest: A Simple Pleasure
Theme Chosen: Drinking a Cup of Tea
Sponsor: Julia Ward
NOT JUST ANOTHER WALK IN THE PARK
After biscuits for breakfast at Mama’s Boy…an Athens, Georgia landmark
we decided to walk off our calories with a stroll through Dudley Park.
Dudley Park is a beautiful place…not huge by any scale….
It’s traversed by the North Oconee River just off the Firefly Trail.
Of course the fireflies were sleeping…having long ago hit the hay
but we wanted to see what wonders their trail wold reveal to us that day.
Sure we missed the fireflies…who only light up in the dark
but from high up in the trees we were treated to a free concert in the park.
It was the dead of summer…but the morning felt like spring…
and as we were cooled by a morning breeze…all around us birds began to sing.
The bluebirds chirped…the cardinals whistled…again and again and again….
These were just the warm-up acts for the headliner…the Carolina wren.
We walked among the green grass, the elm trees and mushrooms….
While all around us, wherever we looked, flowers were in bloom.
Everywhere we turned…different flowers we would spot…
From yellow jessamine, black eyed Susans, to the fragrant Bergamot.
We happened upon a cluster of dayflowers…blessed to have seen them on our way
because, as their name suggests, they bloom only for one day.
The dayflower is just another indication of how life moves on so fast
reminding us to enjoy every moment before it fades into the past.
This is why every walk we take together…
feels a little different than the walk before…
Which means this wasn’t just another walk in a park for us…
No…
it was so much more.
Tea kettle steam and curtseys greet queenly company.
"Quaint" dainty danishes are dazzlingly displayed
with quintessential utensils and dishes.
Stenciled place cards display exclusive names.
Respective guests, formally dressed, rest with "poise."
Facing "platinum" plates gently lie on lace doilies.
Coral lilies bloom "perfume" from a porcelain vase.
Imagination's "quay" traces Teacup Bay, where
a sea of swooshing scents blend to perfection.
Sinatra's croons fuse with light conversation.
Earl Grey's bergamot flavor warrants accolades.
Spiced chai indulgence compliments petite cream puffs.
Honey hibiscus kissed lips sink in to sandwich quarters:
glazed turkey focaccia perked with endive and feta,
and roast beef ciabatta pleased with provolone cheese.
Tuna cucumber rolls are wrapped like sacred scrolls.
Bakery scones, cupcakes, and biscuits await.
I "quiver" to consider the "quandary" of
treat possibilities, all within reach.
My jesting "penance" for perfection
is to sample three of each.
Mind Your P's and Q's Contest words used:
Penance Poise Perfume Platinum
Quay Quiver Quandary Quaint
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
2/9/2021