Long Cobs Poems
Long Cobs Poems. Below are the most popular long Cobs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cobs poems by poem length and keyword.
Stopping By Corn Field On A Sunny Day
with apologies to Robert Frost
Whose field is this I'm sure I know.
he's busy in the barn now though
and will not see me stopping here
to find his corn in rows and rows.
The stalks of corn are full of cheer
and cobs are tasty chased with beer;
and golden corn is calling me
to pluck and run, I have no fear.
It's late of day, no one will see
except the sun and she agrees
one or two will not be missed,
it's just a question of degree.
Heaven knows that I will weep
if I drive away with empty Jeep!
So now I have sweet corn to eat ~
sweet corn to eat before I sleep.
We drove along the secondary streets of Iowa,
Towards my grandparents’ large farm.
How excited we felt for this seemed like a yearly pilgrimage
To visit my old folks back home.
I always loved summertime with my grandparents.
Though I knew they worked hard, poor fellers.
I noticed grandpa and his group of hired men
Moving here and there like ants among the stalks
Of the corn that grew in our large fields.
Trimmers in hand, all would prune the suckers
And saw how tall they would grow, larger than me.
How grand it was to explore the countryside,
Making friends with Daisy, who lived nearby.
There we discovered a clump of oak trees
And a clean small lake that irrigated our land.
Swimming was a must and so was kissing.
I was madly in love with my friend as I dreaded
The day when I would have to leave her to go back home.
Meanwhile the cob was soon covered with smooth kernels.
And harvesting began which meant it was the end of summer.
But before I was to return home, grandma promised a treat:
She brought in some corn on the cob and inserted in each
A skewer, then grilled the cobs. Out they came piping hot.
Grandma spread generous butter on one and added salt.
What can I say? It was divine. And I wanted more….
Thus, we arrived after a long time, so full of glee and anticipation.
Daisy jumped first out of the car and rushed inside.
No one was going to make her miss her favourite dish,
A grilled corn on the cob. No doubt I followed suit.
Sister Josephine, our neighborhood nun.
No longer fit for ministry;
although she’s quit the nunnery,
she sits at our day camp nursery.
Go Jo uses every amp of energy
so as to champion or otherwise dampen
the spirit of grit in our scamps.
Sister Josephine, power shavers couldn’t stun.
Noise is born in my son.
Enjoying his horn on the run
from morn till night with the sun,
Boy Roy is fun, delightfully won.
Toys are Sprite cans, squiggly egg whites,
old cobs of corn and badly worn kites.
Sister Josephine, our savior you’d want.
Nursing their aches and their sprains,
reversing the stakes in their games,
she takes on blessing their brains.
Interspersed with pain, her tests will train,
coerce and arrest their thoughts with some stress.
Her heart makes and breaks their quests.
Sister Josephine showers favors - on good done.
Rhyming Words:
Stanza one:
no, although, Go, Jo, so
fit, quit, sits, spirit, grit
ministry, nunnery, nursery, every, energy
camp, amp, champion, dampen, scamps
Stanza two:
noise, enjoying, Boy, Roy, toys
born, horn, morn, corn, worn
son, run, sun, fun, won
night, delight, Sprite, whites, kites
Stanza three:
nursing, reversing, inter/spersed, coerce
aches, stakes, takes, makes, breaks
sprains, games, brains, pain, train
blessing, tests, arrest, stress, quests
Random rhymes in the the single lines:
our, power, showers
(neighborhood), (shavers could), (savior you'd), (favors/good)
nun, stun, want, done
Okay friends now let's just see
Do I have weaknesses of my own?
Nope, after careful investigation
I find I'm just perfect to the bone
A doggone stunning specimen
Of a *****sapien supreme
With bulging muscles everywhere
My tummy is tight and lean
So muscle bound, can't even bend
To tie my oversized shoes
Haven't seen some parts of my body
Since ninety-sixty-two
What's my secret you may ask
To my Greek Adonis form?
I chew on nuts and alfalfa grass
Celery and cobs of corn
Not your cup of tea you say?
So keep up your over stuffed ways
Like the famous Goodyear blimp
You'll go drifting off in the haze!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Upon the lakes they do swim gliding so effortlessly
These species of graceful waterfowl the largest of anatidae family
In their beautiful pure white plumage with elegant long curved necks
Blunted beaks and big webbed feet living together by water's edge
These magnificent creatures of the waters are a sign of purity and love
Remind us of the blessings in our relationships a gift from heaven above
If all goes well in there pairing they will stay together for rest of their life’s
When they glide upon the waters of our awareness they bring us deep insight
These birds of Mother Nature they’re exquisite and unique
Bearing exotic waves of beauty to our dreams as we do sleep
They swim around in our divine mind adding colours of delight
Encouraging us to spread our wings and take our glorious flight
Courting occurs on rivers and lakes throughout the known world
Whilst they live on plant life tiny fish and scattered bread as well
You might see them duck their heads as they feed upon their foods
But you better beware of their aggression whilst they protect their broods
The elegance of these myterious birds are displayed in a ballet dancer
Dancing into our emotions with their romantic artisticpower
Transforming our souls with delightful moves bringing us into harmony
With a brilliant performance of balance, control and technical flexibility
The beautiful dying swan pours its heart out as death draws near
Greeting this with an exceptional beautiful ending balladeer
Its modulated voice singing the swan-song of death so sweet
This harmonious sound can be heard as its last creative piece
The crown retain the ownership to all unmarked mute swans
A ceremony takes place once a year and lasts for five days long
Swan upping is a tradition dated back to the twelfth century
Markers row up and down the rivers paying tribute to the Queen
In England they’re a protected species and owned by Her Majesty
The wing spans on these wonderful birds can extent to several feet
These sacred aquatic birds male and female cobs and pens
Those little cygnets and swanlings on a swan lake that never ends
© Copyright KC.Leake
8th December 2014
All Rights Reserved
Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
Form:
PINEY WOODS
Robin Hood of the Piney Woods
passing out cobs of sweet corn,
reading the Holy Word – living it.
Loving others as he loves himself.
Fighting for truth and justice.
Rescuing foreigners from cotton fields,
giving them back to mothers and fathers.
Loving the whole Rachel tree of
the Free State of Jones -
America stands proud – looking up…
Sometimes sad, and madder than mountains -
Looking up at humans hanging from trees.
Looking up to those cursed upon trees…
Looking up to Jesus who bore our sins!
Telling tales of the forgotten old.
So many stories, that need to be told.
Freedom costs. It costs big!
But we survive. We breathe. We thrive.
Will you gather at the Piney Woods,
hearts bare, lion-hearted, prepared?
Kim Rodrigues ©2017
I've passed this way many a day
and wondered as I strayed;
Who had opened, what had filled
the gap within the crib's dark bay.
The opening small in the wall
at once so spare yet alluring
with tilted sides and gap toothed maw
which now held field mice burrowing.
The boards of red once formed a bed
for stored feed of golden maze,
these cedar shingles had sheltered
the abundance of by gone days.
The farm's gone now, no fields, no cow
long past its youth, its heyday
housing only bitter sweet and
memories of corn cobs and play.
Yet, here it stands, as I go by,
and so quietly it brings to me;
the lingering joy of laughter
the faint echoes of jubilee.
Tiny orange tea lights with miniature pumpkins sprinkle love lights around the tables,
Which have been set probably since 5:30 a.m. with the church’s best china,
Because the fall tea starts at ten.
Small plastic corn cobs and toy cornucopias were
Placed ever so gently, by church ladies who were young when I was a child,
But are in their eighties and nineties now,
I hear them in the kitchen bossing each other and I smile.
It has been forty-five years since I attended this church.
Their faces are the same, except a bit older, their hair a different color, but the same smiles.
They all know me. I know most of them.
Eleven round tables set up by six church ladies
are generously sprinkled with orange, and yellow confetti
I can hear them tittering about something they think is insanely funny.
Probably making fun of a man. That is when they laugh the hardest.
A hand printed place card with a tiny brown turkey –
Sorted in eights, are placed on the crisp white table cloths
I know, because I was instructed to place them.
One of the church ladies comes out, and replaces them all, smiling
At me, as if I am too young to get it right.
I am only a kid, you understand, merely sixty-something-years-young.
What would I know about placing place cards correctly?
I go into the kitchen to see if there is anything they will let me do.
They trust me to clean the sink.
No. Wait.
One comes over to show me
The correct way to do it.
They are a riot.
”Oh! Man, these golden rods
Hot and full of butter lots
Salted just rightly
I hold ever so tightly
Even Butch and Bailey my dogs
Licks their lips for the flavor
Wishing I’d just drop one
No! Boy, ain’t gonna happen this I’m gonna savor
Grands Munz is holding 5 more
I’m hoping I’ve gotten room for them boy…
Yum…Each kernel of these cobs are sweet and spicy so
Blend butter with honey and cayenne and spread it loosely
WoW! Did I also say there’re juicy?
These corn cobs before grilling it Grands with pulled back on the husks made it so tender....
Grands also got Parmesan butter and a little cheese, this I’ll always remember
a mixture of olive oil, basting it with a garlicky Parmesan butter as it grills
Some with some lemon juice hot cobs
The Parmesan melts and clings while the olive oil
And lemon dribble “Hot cobs” stomach full to my neck I’m sure
Butch and Bailey panting com’on drop one already
Fish. Corn on the cob has an earthy, natural taste that pairs well with fish. ...
Corn then gets submerged in melted butter. “Hot Cobs”
Generous pinch of salt and a pinch of black pepper it’s just glorious
Keep’em comin Grands Munz this here corn on the cob simply marvelous
“Hot cobs” ooh, boy
Grands what’s the milk for?”
10/6/19
Contest Placement #2
For Realism Art Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Picked Picture # 3