Long Currants Poems
Long Currants Poems. Below are the most popular long Currants by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Currants poems by poem length and keyword.
Snowdrifts blow caught in the mountain wind
shifting movements in the currants bend
before them are the days of summer fled
into the past like former days now dead
Might you seek there light of sunny days
autumn winter spring now a former haze
water slipping holds and rushes quickly on
so swiftly fades a life not dwelt upon
The floodgates rush down the rivers flash
where water plunges and run the rapids fast
here our lives are in fleeting moments gone
and few will know if voices carried on
And what hopes man in his life to gain
it’s miseries if in his sins remain
tomorrow’s promise know we it will come
accounted little in our days their sum
This lonely place flower beds lay fallow
it’s beauty fades roots not deep but shallow
twilight veils fields of mankind’s dreams
pursuing endlessly hopes of better things
You till the soil there a garden plant
always the weeds in them do supplant
the roots are choked and tendril trails creep
and strangles lives in the dreamers sleep
COPYRIGHT © 2016
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
My mam used to clean at Billy Bulson’s farm,
A magical place of mystery and charm,
With geese that cackled and hissed and every day.
Without my mam I’d have run away
As they charged with flapping wings.
I was really scared of those fierce big things
With their open beaks and lowered necks.
It really hurt if you got a peck.
But through the flock and into that house of joy
Where I was treated like their own little boy.
A passage was guarded by a stuffed dog fox
Watching the world from his glass walled box.
I knew he watched with his beady eye
And I always walked respectfully by.
Out in the orchard with their daughter Jill,
Amazingly we were never ill,
Stuffing our faces with fruit on the ground
Fallen from the trees growing all around.
Apples and pears and plums and cherries,
In the kitchen garden currants and berries.
Once a week was butter making day.
Mrs Bulson would separate and skim the whey
Then pour the rest in her electric churn
Driven by a rubber belt that made it turn
Producing yellow butter fresh and creamy
I can taste it still - so fresh and dreamy.
She’d shape it all into little square pats
With a pair of special wooden bats
Sometimes there was a little pat for me
To carry it home and eat with our tea.
They still had Shires working on the crops.
Those old boys just never seemed to stop.
I can still feel the thrill deep inside
That first time Billy Bulson let me ride
Holding me on that Shire’s back
As it plodded its powerful track
Turning the potatoes out of the land
To be grasped by the picker’s hands.
The more they picked the more their pay,
Paid by the bag, not by the day.
Close my eyes and I’m back there still
Guzzling the fruit with my friend Jill
When mam cleaned at Billy Bulson’s farm
A magical place of mystery and charm
Fruit Fairies
Green luscious trees sway gracefully in breeze
humming song sung by work pollen bees
baby fruits cradled not yet ripen to fall
many are ready but some still too small
Laden with fruit rich, juicy and ripe
natures jewels sparkling delights
oranges, plums, pears, apples galore
once tasted you will always want more
Raspberries, strawberries and currants of blue
beautiful colours all natural and true
blackberries, apricots, gooseberries green
melons and mangoes even tangerines
Lemons so bright bed lights to be seen
fruit fairies dancing among all the green
they are the guardians who nurture them all
working and caring protectors when called
Unicorn sprinkles star dust they apply
diamonds drop dews, rain from the sky
foods for the fruits all natural and clean
no chemicals be used, always grown green
As dusk draws in, their wings tired and slow
fireflies wake lights delicately glows
lay rest their heads on white cotton to sleep
eyes tiredly shut no fairy does peep
Fruit salad, fruit medley bring such harmony
all healthy when eaten moderately
so children when mum and dad say this be true
fruit fairies grew these especially for you
If you hear little laughter or feel tickle of air
know that a fairy is very near
happy, smiling, flying with glee
healthy our children - earth future trustees
29.08.20
Hearing the maids cry: "Come walk through our orchard Come buy,come buy:
Apples and berries, Lemons and Raspberries, Melons and Raspberries,
Plump picked cherries, Smooth checked peaches, Pine-apple, Blackberries,
Apricots, Strawberries,There all ripe together In Summer weather,
Morning passes by, Fair eves that fly; Come buy, come buy; Grapes fresh from the vine, Pomegranates full and fresh, Dates sharp as an eastern delight, Pears juicy with one bite, Taste them and try; Currants and gooseberries, Bright as the Loganberries,
Figs fill your mouth, Citrons from the South, Taste sweet to the tongue,
With sound to the eye: Come buy,come buy."
They did mock us ...did they not?...the mockingbirds?
I say they did!...innuendo infuse...as pellucid as she...they mocked us!
...gossiped luridly about us in luscious low tones like the old hen in her
folding chair...nothing better to do than judge in ripples to her cluck...her menagerie...in their horribly ugly dough smeared aprons...their blue heads tilted in close at twilight...their murmurings...wet currants of milky weighted ancestral opinion...like the too sweet fragrant frangipani of yesterday's casket bouquets.
They are the last vermillion crest of an ending era...the harsh setting sun
of discrimination's descent ...now blurs to a color rich flag and nation...The Mockingbirds ...be damned!
For 10 words 10 lines contest
The Easter bunny’s feeling sick
He ate eight boiled eggs for a trick
And cannot stop fartin
His butt end is smartin
The other bunnies took the mick!
Poor bunny said “It isn’t funny
I’ve got excess gas in my tummy
Eating eggs is a curse
And what’s even worse
My rabbit currants have turned runny”
While Easter bunny had a walk
His bunny pals began to talk
They came up with a plan
And saw hardware store Stan
Who fitted Bunny with a cork
When bunny just nibbled on hay
His flatulence soon went away
Long gone is the smell
And bunny is well
To bring chocolate eggs on Sunday
thanks to a friend who smoothly whispered a prompt to me
04/15/22
Inclinations Of Fan
Ceiling fan mesmerized the day’s hypnotic flashings
Sunlight fractured through rotating blades
Someone must have traduced it with black magic
Or a switch turned on when we weren't looking
False currants of air, created up there
Pretending to be wind inside the room
Are merely fabrications of the ceiling fan
Humming complacently about a motor at its core
Variable speeds at war with nature
Pretending to be wind is such a sin
Slow, medium, fast… won’t last forever
Ceiling fan will stop one day for many reasons
Electric cost is at the top
An condition unit will replace it for a time
When the grid goes out by bombs or hackers
Paper fans will do just fine
I'm shopping in the town near my favourite cake shop
I need a sugar fix so I’ll really have to stop
I’m having friends to tea, so I think it’s only fair
To buy my friend Patricia, a nice chocolate eclair
Connie loves a cake and it’s always lots of fun
Watching her dissect a pink-coated iced bun
Alice will be coming and she’ll bring her sister Pam
They both like nothing better, than a doughnut filled with jam
A Battenberg of pink and yellow is one of Carol's favourite cakes
She divides the squares into four, oh what a mess she makes
A nice Victoria Sponge is Jess's favourite cake
But the ones in the shop aren’t as good as the ones her Grandma used to make
Wendy is quite partial to a round, plump Eccles cake
Filled with currants and buttery filling
They're messy when the pastry starts to flake
The cakes are on the cake-stand, it’s quite a sight to see
I’m trying to cut down my sugar intake
But they look really tempting to me
My friends are choosing their favourite cake
But I don't think I’ll risk it
I'll just sit and watch them, with a nice cup of tea
And a nice modest Digestive biscuit
It’s the color of November, gray blue
weak as water…
yet water can change the strongest steel,
the sturdiest breath, silenced
by the water’s still, calm gesture…
in laughing swells, tears
like currants,
blistering the surface of azure seas,
growing, rising, surging with energies,
melodies of light, flowing beyond the moment
into the blessings of a song
where hope rises…
all night long, on the verge of wonder
where my heart aches, seeing the waters
flesh against the raw liquid,
blazing like the distance,
where light erases the shadows,
healing all the imaginings, the streams
curving through the rivers,
blessing, settling, reflecting…
the meaning of what begins when October ends,
as November sends her whisper, sighing like Sunday
where the journey ceases to be a burden,
becoming something worthy, a moment He prepares for those
who believe Him, when He says He is bringing…
joy overflowing, living waters, the tides bursting
over the surface of shame and guilt,
leaving a trail of sensitive,
forgiveness that lifts the spirit and embraces eternally
embraces, those who believe
seeing the truth in the rhythm
sunshine bleeding through storms,
shining so all the world can see…
He is the light, the beautiful, the miracle
that agrees… beyond the still waters
flows a love like we’d never be capable of seeing
without the eyes He opened when He rescued us from our nonbelief
our sins, washed away by the lasting peace that He forever leaves…
singing to our spirits, reassuring, redeeming,
saving souls from the worst there is,
a life without the One whose song continues on…
leaving the world with a hope that love sings
while God redeems,
freeing the souls
who believe He is …
everything that means anything
everything that sees… our need,
salvation from the sins that defeat,
freedom from the doubt and despair,
He saves us so we’re forever alive,
forever with the love that abides
when He crushes our pride,
and signs our name in His book of life!
Oceon waves move in troughs and peaks, currants and eddys
Are way down deep.' Permeating the fluids strong, salty grains
That pass unseen, echo of life be it bland or keen? As
Above in wayward events, all is changing to such extents'
Where are
Life or death? Its hard to sense' all things began from a
Void of deep dark dense.' That shrouded the light 'about to start'
Its energy to move. And all construct.' It proves design
It shows out lines Of the God of life, who is out of our time'
Consider all is changeble? all we see won't last,!search for
God and eternity ere your chances are past.!