Long Elderberry Poems
Long Elderberry Poems. Below are the most popular long Elderberry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Elderberry poems by poem length and keyword.
white is the new snow
it colours land with pureness
fresh and crisp to touch
Pristine snow lay over the fields clothing it in white crystals
soft piles of deep drifts abound the hedges
the simple beauty of the snowdrops poking up their heads
as the land warms, white daffodils wave their trumpets like wands
followed by the hawthorn which coats the valley in white
the blossom on the various fruit tree a delightful sight
beautiful highly scented elderberry flowers shower the trees
stately white lilies greet the bride as she draws nigh the alter
virginal blossoms
adorn and scent the arbour
a delightful sight
01/02/2014
contest Something in White
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025
Skies above they are true
aqua color spaces water you
Midland coastland views
sweetest shoots blueberry grapes tomatoes
Damson, Concord grape,
Elderberry Black currant, Plum, Berry black,
Blueberry does true
swish of the wind sounds views
Sound of you ripples in the waters true
So drips and falls on the grasses do
Those the breeze in the summer do
Also blue those tears
You cry it flows out your eyes
Your lips taste blueberry grapes
And raisin
When I am so sad
My fears and depression seasonal changes
From fall-winter
From Summer spring
My eyes, my mind, my heart vested so true
awesome eyewitnessing
BLUE .
My heart is on an island
Half a continent away.
It’s not a hot and sunny isle
With palm trees all asway.
The trees are oaks and maples,
The winters cold and raw
The waves pound on the beaches,
And black-winged ravens caw.
However, there’s a warmth inside
The panes and doors alight,
Where musicians, artists, poets
Hold the floor and take the mike.
Everywhere the neighbors join
In churches, homes, and halls
For parties or for pot-lucks
Or attending winter balls.
In fall and spring and summer
The outdoor island shines.
Fields and scrub and marshes
Are dressed up to the nines
With elderberry, roses, and
Feathery waving grasses
And sunny sandy beaches
With sun-tanned lads and lasses.
I miss that lovely island
For a million different reasons.
My heart will always live there
No matter what the seasons.
As a child I would place my closed eyes
in them
while she hummed Gaelic melodies
neither she nor I had words for.
Her apron, it was brown
like a butchers smock
but with not a speck of blood upon it
only daubs of fruit dumplings
and the savor of rose-hip
and elderberry flowers.
Her hands were upon her lap
and in them I placed my lips
and upon those lips
the four seasons came together
melded there.
At times, by candle light
I would read her old hands
the lines upon them
were paths of wisdom
I now but partly understand.
Grandmother had large hands
large enough for my heart
and hers.
When they closed
It was as if a flower had closed
at the end of day.
Blackberries, blackberries, what’s the big deal?
They’ve too many seeds, and they give me no thrill.
They’re actually tart and they’re only sweet when
placed into a pie. Are they even good then?
Likewise the strawberry is not all that great
except if you eat it along with your mate.
You see how in movies some great lover dips
that berry in chocolate for his lover’s lips.
Think of all berries that you’ve ever had.
Cranberries, mulberries, etc. . . . all bad!
Berries just aren’t BERRY good. From elderberry
to choke(me)berry. And please forget the gooseberry!
Raspberries, boysenberries, and blueberries too.
THOSE are the only three I care to do!
But blackberries, blackberries. What good are THEY?
Unless they are sweetened, I’ll throw them away.
Aug. 6, 2022
For Matt Caliri's Your Thoughts On Blackberries Poetry Contest
I love to sit and watch the Roosevelt Elk for hours. The Roosevelt Elk named for Theodore Roosevelt, it's my favorite animal in the wild. They are the largest of the four remaining North American elk subspecies. They are beautiful, majestic creatures that walk with their head up high with pride. They stand as tall as a horse. The male elk carries a beautiful set of dark brown, tipped in cream antlers. Their antlers reach lengths of up to four feet with a distinctive three-point tip, or crown at the end depending on the age of the elk. They use the eye guards on the horns when running through brush by lowering their heads. The antlers have several purposes, most related to mating, as a weapon against their foe, and the antlers are shed each year.
Even though they have a heavy scent of musk they can pick up a scent carried hundreds of yards away if the wind is blowing their direction.
Their coat is thick and soft, with longer hair on the chest and shoulders of sable color, with a light brown body, and a cream-colored rump and no tail. Their coats make it a habitat for fleas because their coat is thick and soft, it enables them to sneak through a thicket when they hear your nylon or denim clothes rake against a bush.
They feed on a variety of grass as, plants, leaves, bark, and including highbush cranberry, elderberry, devil's club blueberries, mushrooms, lichens, and salmonberries.
They engage in ritualized mating behaviors during the rutting season to have their own harem. The mating involves in posturing, urinating, tossing turf and fighting with their antlers, and bugling, a loud series of vocalizations which establishes dominance over other males and attracts females.
The Roosevelt Elk, a beautiful, majestic creature, which lives in the wide-open land with tall grass, under the canopy of Douglas -fir, cedar, and old growth stands.
5/9/2018
Il existe une confiture de myrtilles,
Ne parlons pas de la succulente confitures de mûres,
De la marmelade d’oranges, de la confiture de rhubarbe,
Il existe des confitures rouges, des confitures vertes,
Une parenthèse exquise, la compote de pommes,
Il existe de la confiture de prunes, de reine claude,
De la confiture de poires, ou de fruits d’automne
La confiture de fraises que tout le monde adore,
La purée de marrons, la confiture de cassis,
La confiture de framboises, du petit sureau,
Et d’autres confitures de mangues ou de coings,
L’important dans la vie, c’est de toutes les goûter,
Pas d’en choisir une.
There is a blueberry jam,
Let’s not talk about the succulent blackberry jam,
Orange marmalade, rhubarb jam,
There are red jams, green jams,
An exquisite parenthesis, the apple compote,
There is jam of plums, of queen claude,
Pear jam, or autumn fruit
The strawberry jam that everyone loves,
Chestnut puree, blackcurrant jam,
Raspberry jam, elderberry,
And other mango or quince jam,
The important thing in life is to taste all,
Not to choose one.
Eatin’ me some pork rind
Listenin’ on the party line
Havin’ us a good ol' time
Drinkin’ elderberry wine
(Workin’ on it)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Salty!
Talkin’ on the party line …
Hush now!
Helpin’ others when we could
Simply doin’ what we should
Always knew just where we stood
Livin’ never felt so good
(Mercy me)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Crunchy!
Havin’ us a good old time ...
Wee doggy!
Login on some web page
Don’t know why it’s all the rage
Face-to-face how I engage
Guess I sure can show my age
(Boy and how)
Eatin’ me some pork rind …
Yummy!
Talkin’ on the party line …
Hush now!
Havin’ us a good ol' time …
Wee doggy!
Drinkin’ elderberry wine …
Here’s to us!
(repeat, softer — fade)
She came upon me in a dream deep down from within my destination
Which coursed the mind and soul of years for my memories' inspiration
The path was crowded with bouncing hooves and wagons decorated
With fantasies ornaments adoration painted with merriment unabated
Echoes' subconscious sound of wild horses drawing cart wheels' canter
A symphony's reminder of nectar's flow from a coloured glass decanter
Bewildered I reminisced on sentiments nostalgia and what lies ahead
Fanfares of homeliness adventure passion to pounding of a drumhead
Heated stallions ran wild with mares and took my innate flight of fancy
Less trodden though in modern times a covert path offered me fragrant tansy
Potions of wild garlic lavender and bouquets of aromatic blue sage scent
I grabbed the message by the horns and galloped to my heart's content
One face stood out and reached my fired feelings as I took off one blinker
A nomad girl dressed in rags whistles bells whom you might call a tinker
Olive skin and amber eyes beyond all reason teasing all sensual needs
Her hair like forests full of tangles I must touch her locks lest she proceeds
Around her neck dangled an amulet crafted from ivory and ancient oak
Grant me a whiff of freedom give me one chance to embrace and stroke
The skin's wilderness and passion which may save me from my strife
A single breath or little smooch from cherry lips to give me the kiss of life
She shone as bright as ruby petals and took her path along the lane
Of elderberry flower and hawthorn hedges which made me go insane
Her chest adorned with orange curves she wore a crown of quince
She's been imprinted on my summer screen for more and ever since
And still the magic rings hooked on her ears of nectarine shaped silver
Stir the image when I hear a voice singing the praise and beauty of her
A scintillating Roma bride sculpted from nature of the purest sense
Prophesy omen oracle and metaphor in one quite magically intense
When sunshine arises red and purple with violins and tambourine
I pinch the moon in thanks for right next to me slumbers my Fairy Queen
Once upon a time I handed her a golden peach an oath and sacred bond
She calls herself a gypsy and kindly waves to me with her magic wand
11th April 2020