Long Cornucopia Poems
Long Cornucopia Poems. Below are the most popular long Cornucopia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cornucopia poems by poem length and keyword.
THE WAX CRIES WITH HAPPINESS
Mom’s up early with the plucked bird, stuffing it.
The bare rinsed butterball, portions for six.
All day our mouths water, stomachs pitching a fit,
as we wait for the skin to crisp...delicious drumsticks.
Potatoes peeled and pressured, mashed, stirred
with butter, milk, salt and pepper...licking lips.
Jolly Green Giant beans heated, (sixties were absurd)
Likewise the floop from a tin can...cranberry flips.
Father and son, thankful for the football game. I
just hear static. Mother’s in her apron, sweating.
I just remember sights, smells, sounds...I sigh.
The basics of love — the cornucopia begetting.
Afterwards our bellies ballooning, but there’s pies,
piled with apple, rhubarb or cherry and Cool Whip.
The table adorned with long candles - the wax cries
with happiness. The unsetting done with thankful lips.
11/11/2019
Thanksgiving Memory Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
This is an example of what I want for the contest:
"A rhyme story/poem with eyes on "
Visions of belonging held fast inside my heart
I want to be accepted for who I am my Lord
but all they see is a he she, and a shifty tart
even in the days of old, only men wore swords
time has changed but not re-arranged their ways
yesterday appearing same, a cornucopia of straight
today we have the trans, lesbians, gays
and those serving up, fear and utter hate
I love the feel of lingerie God, so why can't I ?
my heart is red like theirs, it pumps, it hurts
I shed so many tears I've forgotten how to cry
can you love me just like this, without revert?
Sitting on this pew I've come to realize all I do is flee
and although your son was crucified at thirty three
I'm still here Father, .. you made me like I am
my heart is red like theirs, I suffer when I can't be me.
Which words soothe
You know the ones that cool temperatures
And bring that smile to the face of busy days
Overworked and overlooked
They fall out of minds
A jumbled cornucopia that somehow rearranges itself during a blink
The spell checker came later
The ooh and aah came with comfort food
An ear that took its time and stayed the night
Slipping between the REM breaks
Then they slid out of the sheets before dawn
Sentences flicker
A net caught them
But some need throwing back
Their time to dance will come
The milli seconds between thought and voice
Is what really matters
Times are broken when the heart is involved
As pulse throbs each vein in sweated brow
Lips quiver with each word born
Passion knocks on the door first
Its eagerness screams to be heard
Gestures mean nothing
Without the parlance of love
Tone stings
Anger stretches
Calmness pacifies a troubled soul
These are the words in their structure
Their meaning, their deliverance
That moves us
Whether in thought or deed
We must trust each constructed sound
To pay its way
Words are our currency
To a richer life
Spend wisely!
Cornucopia
Capra aegagrus hircus
Cornu ever flows
But The Horn Of Plenty
Is soon to run empty
While the Nanny has cut
Off
her horn to nourish
us Kids un-
sated we
tear our
Mother
limb limb
from
17.10.24
Composed for Kim Rodrigues'
"Cornucopia"
“Collecting life’s treasure from the moments of bliss I walk the last mile” - Quote by Poet
In the vibrant life’s changing dynamic landscape,
the pathway across the undulating topography
meandered to the nebulous future beyond escape.
I configured desire in the template of transient time,
and the designed footprints of the dormant destiny
I followed ardently in beguiled mental state sublime.
Many surging streams in spate I swam in the storm
with the unfurling buds of nascent dreams held close
to the adoring heart, lest they wither and deform.
Through the rainbow arch in the chromatic sky
as I chased in the floral valley the passion butterfly,
my ardent yearning on its wings soared high.
As the spent sun sinks in the horizon’s fading color pile,
on the faint trail of time covered by twilight dust,
with the cornucopia of fulfilled life I walk the last mile.
Traversing content the unpaced pathway out of abyss,
lighted by the benevolent glow of God’s grace,
I look back to see the snapshots of the moments of bliss.
Cottonwood and royal pine, majestic oak and fields of wheat
All you hear are birds, and the pitter patter of little feet
The smell of lilac fills the air, dirt roads far as one can see
Just beware of certain flowers and the stinging bumble bee
A cornucopia to run and play, safe and free from harm
There is no place I would rather be, than right here on this farm
This is my sanctuary, so many often wonder why
I’ll always love the country, it’s where I live and where I’ll die
I am thankful of this piece of ground, and all that I can see
Our life is what we make it, don’t let regret take hold of thee
August 17, 2020
It's just the way you're sewn together
the way DNA twists and bends
a bow-legged soul
going around every mud puddle
encountered...
then bragging about
having been there, done that
while having done nothing
and been nowhere
wrapped tight inside
a
varicose veneer cornucopia
etched
"Untested
comfort".
I like to splash in mud puddles
that you've avoided
taste the grit of life
pass a wet Mexican gold blunt
round and round the devil's circle
eat Percocet pie
slap a muddy paw
against the flanks of
pristine
until the night blacks out
then hack down a
slippery staircase
knead a muddy morning constellation
glaze it with cheap secondhand tattoos and beer piss
bake it all in an oven on pinball tilt
then laugh the laugh of crows and jackals.
A buzzard from his vantage point of sweeping lofty heights
Enjoyed a cornucopia of captivating sights.
He soared above the rolling hills, the meadows and ravines,
His bird's-eye-view encompassed ocean blues and forest greens.
But once, a splash of colour made his sharp-eyed vision blink;
A stunning apparition dressed in fine flamboyant pink.
And like a ballerina it performed a pirouette
Then took a slow bow downwards as the sun began to set.
A beautiful flamingo in a lake of cobalt blue
Had brought a touch of magic to a buzzard's scenic view.
15/01/19
'Buzzards And Flamingos Poetry Contest' : sponsored by Anthony Slausin
2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 18 Mark Toney : 3/13/2019 N/A
Na Re-Run Poetry Contest : Sponsored by John Hamilton
22.06.19
MOUNTAINS OF BAVARIA
climbing,
higher and higher.
a breathtaking scene.
horse and carriage clomps past us.
an extraordinary castle
in the mountains of Bavaria.
lingering patience, as my thighs
motivate their muscles,
climbing ever higher to Ludwig’s sky.
taking time to catch my breath.
Neuschwanstein,
fairy tale swoon of the Romance Road.
the mountain chills
in Winter,
a wondrous white wool coat.
Autumn spread
of lime, gold and red
cornucopia of colors.
the castle built for length of years,
not so for the King.
but i, feel energized, as
we approach the kingdom’s entrance,
spying the height
of the Alps
we’ve climbed.
the divine breast
of paradise.
8/8/2017
Free verse
Mountain Contest
(it's like )
The sweet and scented waft of a delicate flower waltzing in thin air or like
Helium balloons at the fair. Often we equate it to cotton candy, or
Electricity. Why is it that we
Abandon ourselves to another, giving it all away like the tabloids ask of us. As
Renegades of loneliness we precipitate towards that rich garden enmeshed
Only with our senses. Lost in a cornucopia of glossy hearts and wet kisses.
Move over Devotion, move over Sacrifice, let us float on fumes of flattery
Ah but wait, what above true Love? what does is feel like? Perhaps its like
Oaring down the river with four paddles going the same direction (smile)
Frankly, its like gliding towards the greatest scent on earth when it is real.
Love is always patient and kind, and it makes heroes out of all of us.
Oath it with every fiber of your being, its essence is like
Velvet to the touch, as vital as the air we breathe, it vacillates and it is
Eternal. It takes us to the highest heaven then lights every star for us.
(that is what love does)