Long Dainties Poems
Long Dainties Poems. Below are the most popular long Dainties by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dainties poems by poem length and keyword.
Afternoon Tea
in a bone china cup
Tastes nicer
don’t you agree
~
Earl Grey tea
especially
when poured
from a teapot
after brewing
not stewing
~
For exactly the time
that it takes
for to make
a nice cup
of Earl Grey tea
~
Lay out your best china
Royal Albert ~ Liberty
On a tray
On a cake stand
there all for to see
~
Brown finger sandwiches
with salmon
with ham
Scones and whipped cream
homemade strawberry jam
A plate full of dainties
exquisitely made
Washed down
with a cup of
Earl Grey
or Assam
~
So typically
English
is afternoon tea
Always a treat
both
for you
and for me
Written 5th June 2022
Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
And when the lovers find themselves floating through the tip toe daisies
Being sure to avoid the yellow dainty forms around them in a pretty sleep
Kissing the sky as they go by with eyes closed happy in a trance
Being sure to notice how real imagination can be with all that magic
All the fireworks exploding colors loud around will keep them safe
As they parade past mountains high tickled into wide awake on tip toe feet
Where they can see forever past the landscape coming nearer than a hug
It must be love because the color of her cheeks are turning pink
And nothing is sweeter than pink they think as they cling to the tops of trees
Arms wrapped around each other simultaneously as they swing to Saturn
The spinning ring is like a wedding band placed on her lovely hand in marriage
It must be love and they must be lovers
And friends and other things with feelings
Because the yellows on the daisies continue sleeping in their yellow dainties
And greens continue on the trees they touch and love so much romantic
Authors Note: The author realizes that using a conjunction to begin this poem is wrong. It could be a sin or even criminal in some circles. He wants you to know that he does not travel in those circles and he does not care. He thinks that the next time he might use “but” and further thinks, “so what.” (If you are looking for a question mark at the end of “so what” you will have to continue your search elsewhere.)
Up here in Canada we have our own words
Everywhere does, some think ours are absurd
Between toques, hosers and rhyming currency
Like loonies and toonies, we do speak uniquely
But narrow it down to one province specific
Our Saskatchewan tongue is fairly prolific
We drive on the blacktop to get to the grid
To get to the cabin you went to as a kid
Past the RM’s to grab a two four o’ Pil
Put on my bunnyhug to ward off a chill
Wearing thongs in the summer to the river and back
But the ones on our feet, not the ones up our crack
Kitty-corner from the LB is the Rider store
For watermelon helmets, jerseys and more
Our die-hard fans, they all bleed green
Filling the stands, not a bush league team
Daylight savings? Not on our clocks or phones
For anyone in Saskabush or Pile’o’Bones
Or Elbow, Eyebrow, Climax and Oxbow
Moosejaw, Moosamin and Findlater also
And if you were in P.A. for any time spent
You’d know poor deadly is a compliment
Swimming at Pike used to give you the itch
But it’s all better now so jump in, in your gitch
Even if you’re in the city you know everyone
Probably from the small town that their cousin is from
Someone always chuckles when they say Speedy Creek
We like eating dainties, drinking Vico and Beep
Land of the living skies on or license plates
With good prairie storm clouds, the view’s kinda great
Take a left by the elevator and a right at the barn
Keep going until you’re 20 clicks past the farm
See the dog with one ear up and one ear down
And those are all the directions to get to that town
Full of colloquialisms you may not know well
If you're not from the easy to draw, hard to spell ;)
Every year at Chanukah,
Like from divine command,
My grandma made the cookies
All her grandkids would demand.
These humble sugar dainties,
Cut in shapes and rolled out thin,
Served as harbinger that Chanukah
Could finally begin.
But each one, crisp and delicate,
Came with the possibility
That part of it would snap away,
Because of its fragility.
So lions rarely kept their tails
And candles lost their flames.
The sturdy dreidels, still intact,
Were prized for lack of maims.
A colored sugar dusting
Coated each and every shape.
From sugar sparkles on your clothes
You never could escape.
My grandma passed her cutters down
To me, and so I strive,
With floured hands, to help to keep
Her recipe alive.
Today I gamely baked a batch;
My kids made the request.
I picture grandma’s smiling face
And think she’d be impressed.
Take me to the show and let me meet your beau
Take me to the show and let me sit in the front row
Everyone is talking about it, and some people travel
From the other end of the world to see it. Everything
It touches turns gold and if you stare at it too long
You have to surrender your soul. It’s witty and strong
And its vision surpasses the intellect of mankind for its
purpose is divine.
Morning whistles with a sweet harmony over my head
And I pinch myself several times to make sure that I am not dead
I walk down Fifth Avenue looking for the store that sells
That special pair of shoes for I have been preparing for more
than five years to meet it so I have to make sure that the shoe fits.
I have waited for that autograph for so long, for heaven knows
that when I meet it, I will be inspired to write that final song
the album is almost complete but in your presence it will be sweet.
Take me to the show to see your beau,
set a table for it and get the priest to bless it
let me meet with it alone, but gather the universe around
to share cocktails and French dainties before you unveil the tail
I heard that it is coming down the street
and its motorcade is moving with great speed
caps and hats are rustling in the breeze
while honking horns makes echoes abroad
and filters in the deep; friends and stranger
will gather around to say goodbye
But whatever you do, you must not cry
The short-cut is to open your gut and say what you feel
And tell everybody that it is real.
Now that I have met it,
it's time to roll out the next chapter for the show
to make some profit
your beau is neat and it can compete
see you at fashion street on eight avenue.
I am glad that I’ve met your beau
For it is the heartbeat of the show and
You have three to five thousand more miles to go.
Take me to see your beau
LOOKING ON COOKING
You finish your meal
in fifteen minutes or so.
Just think for a while:
Hours of exertion are put
on preparation of food.
Each agrees: Cooking
is great indubitably.
Cook best for sweetheart
He or she will remember
lifelong and forever.
Home is loveliest
where tasty dainties waiting.
Breakup won’t occur,
If hubby or better half,
either is competent cook.
07/29/ 19
NA.
'Cornucopia Cooking ' Contest by Chantallene Anne Cooke
'NA Return -2' Contest by John Hamilton
When discontentment grips my soul
stricken with “if only” litany
midst tormenting doubts attacking…
…helplessly beseeching for escape flight
while wallowing in failure along frustration angst ---
My Lord hoists my faith, reviving my heart
toward triumphant service.
Cognizant of uncertainty-filled response
to future upon insecurities' “maybe" flood
my carnality pursues gainful personal whim
making me swerve from devotion-vow
retreating into convenience and comfort ---
My God drives my commitment ardor
in building lives, vanquishing selfishness, indeed vain.
As skepticism obscures sublime vision
magnifying “sometime” pleasure
distracting heavenly focus…
my human nature succumbs to festive dainties
yet suffocating my spirit ---
My Saviour through His redeeming love*
reaches out to me with revival peace glow.
*2Corinthians 13:11 “… Be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.”
August 4, 2020
3rd place, "If only, maybe, sometimes" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 8/5/2020.
Grace granted us a say on our knees:
a thousand pleas pummeled the sky,
stirred the heavens. The Lord moved,
gentle thunder rumbled:
My daughter's back home!
Our hearts sank, too heavy to bear,
for Janet was a sweetheart, a mother
we've hugged for twenty years and more—
never saw anger crease her comely face
or her girth tinged with the pride of life.
Janet exudes the glow of midsummer noon.
With a voice that strikes heaven's chords,
she thrills songbirds to spin at sessions—
at Shekinah Nights while sky dresses in gold.
Now, birds hush! Whither our songstress?
She's gone!! A while longer would've been
our joy, sharing the dainties of Janet's large heart.
But how long will we mortals hold up the call,
knowing a day of death is set at birth?
The Lord has done His good pleasure—we bow.
So, we wish you Goodnight Mama Janet,
in hope of the Glorious Morning.
Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
March 2019
Serenity bliss in gracious communion sweet
engulfs my grateful soul… while heavenly windows
open themselves wide for me, “amid jagged shadows
of mossy leafless boughs” --- in my worship retreat.
Wondrous meeting with the Lord, joyously divine
Revives my spirit, anticipating blessings
Conquering sufferings from crises oppressings
Assured by bountiful dainties, preciously mine.
Gripped with adoration zeal during altar call
My heart exalts* my Saviour along trust fervor
Triumphing over guilt by His pardon’s savor
Propped am I to follow Him to stewardship hall.
Thus, “amid jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs”**
I can behold service-buds blooming through God’s light
Since my faith He upholds to conquer distress blight
Enabling me, despite flaws, to fulfill my vows.
*Isaiah 25:1 O LORD, thou art my God; I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name; for thou hast done wonderful things; thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth.
**Samuel Taylor Coleridge
November 28, 2019
2nd place, "Writing Challenge 3- November - Any Form" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode; judged on 12/3/2019.