Long Hazelnut Poems
Long Hazelnut Poems. Below are the most popular long Hazelnut by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hazelnut poems by poem length and keyword.
The sun is shinning and the breeze is a blow,
my table all white with lace in it's place and
tea cups in a row.
Fresh, red watermelon in tiny scoops with triangle cut orange
marmalade sandwiches lined in the shape of a loop.
Hazelnut butter and apple jam adorns thinly sliced ham.
A lovely little teapot with yellow roses painted
on it's stem, gives a flowery glow to this day's trend.
The lavender in the garden is all a bloom with
fuzzy, yellow and black bumble bees kissing it's plumes.
Ivy canopied along the gate, all this green makes me
feel so alive and great. This day is filled with family and
friends, a wonderful time watching the children play, I hate
to see it end.
Bluebirds are perched on the window seal and then in the
back ground I hear a whiperwhil. Butterflies gliding through
the air, just like us, they haven't a care.
The ladies talk of all that's new and gossip silly little tales
the whole day through. Clouds passing in big, white, puffy
hues and perfectly shades the court yard's designed clues.
A garden party, its always a treat, a place where after
the flower garden walk, you can sip tea, have a laugh, even tell a
secret, a true friend will keep and a place in nature you can
rest peacefully, your feet.
after each sip of coffee
her lipstick stain blurred and deepened
just like her untold stories
fought for, finding ways to
come back to life,
reshuffled.
scars she had inside,
scratches she sealed with a pinch of salt,
were the silver shadows coming back
to taunt, to haunt,
to suck her soul to the bones?
oh, to smell hazelnut fragrance
again and again and again;
did she find solace
through the masochistic pain?
little did she know
she was the remaining teacup water slipping into a drain
after a rain.
drowning in the void,
trees scarred by a lightning strike on a purple night.
the fire beside her
looked extra orange,
stairs looked extra grey.
the voices inside her head
kindled a new trembling fight.
same old disgust,
forming a heap of rust,
here, there, and everywhere
feeling a force of upthrust.
was it windy enough
to scatter her into dust?
shall she
discover herself buried beneath
the twirling tides,
leading to roller coaster rides?
no ifs,
yet remaining buts,
splicing the even thoughs
with discarded thoughts like driftwood.
only,
only if she had the audacity
to turn the rock into
thirty shades of blue and blue.
only if
the chlorophyll-less leaves could photosynthesize,
the vacancy,
perhaps,
wouldn't crash like tsunami waves.
she's just her,
her and full of her;
quicksand blooming beneath her feet.
up ahead,
the melancholy hill
whispered,
she owed herself
a meeting with the stranger wearing her skin.
I recall being four years old
and picking hazelnuts with mum.
Fall was chilly, but not too cold,
and we'd picked some to be sold.
Your dad's off to war; I got told,
I didn't know that he would come.
I recall being four years old,
and picking hazelnuts with mum.
I didn't know that he would come,
it felt like a punch in the gut.
Mum used to love to sing and hum,
and on occasion, she'd dance some.
She'd bake cookies, with every crumb
packed full of roasted hazelnut.
I didn't know that he would come,
it felt like a punch in the gut.
(Intertwining Triolets)
4/22/18
A hazelnut breeze awakens us
To another day in the show no one signed up for
From an accidental scream
Or selfish architects of love
Rained out
Silver skies that block the sun
Do others cry when the shine reappears
To break a perfect aesthetic of gloom?
Rained out
The cancellation of a party no one wanted
Light of pocket and of mind
To forever repeat the same aesthetic
Kiss the sky
Yet another day passes as before
Nothing to review as the dark rises
An eternal tally of the same hours
Kiss the sky
Rain washes away what has stood strong
A husk of promise shambling about
Crooked of back and empty of stomach
Where is the motivation?
A feast laid before me rots
As the effort to consume would kill me
Before I could get the first bolus down
Where is the motivation?
My oval stones propel me
Gazing at the hell I left behind
Pushing back endless branches ahead
Rotten of flesh and of mind
The dark shine sends my heart aflutter
A princess of the moon kisses me sweetly
And where her lips were, my spirit sloughs
Repelled with a wielded stone
I await my sun-crowned prince
To wrap me in his embrace again
To live in gray instead of grave
Time is a construct
And yet I cannot build more
To replace that which was wasted
By a selfish plaguebearer
So I gaze at me from next to me
Features smooth and eroded
Desire to write rained out
By the selfish world I never asked to be part of.
The stalwart soldier in my kitchen forever stands.
Faithful, diligent and ready, at my commands.
He wears a maroon uniform and keeps me comfortable.
Be it sunshine or in raging storms writing verse at my table.
His ammunition..forever stocked.
For come what may, he is totally loaded and locked!
No, silly~it's not a gun!
Stop thinking that, it is just not any fun!
He keeps a light on at all times.
That I might find him, he demands no rhyme.
Who is he? Haven't you figured it out!
He's my Keurig Coffee Maker, who makes good drinks,
and alas, no stout!
Coffee of any flavor, French, Hazelnut to name a few.
Teas of exotic natures, mon Dieu!
No hot boiling pots of hot water to carry around.
Those tiny K-Cups, make my life, deliciously sound!
April 20, 2020
7pm PST
Lethal kind heart, your fingernails like morganite daggers
sharp enough to stab my heart from the hearth that you warm
As long as you still light it, my breathing bellows will stoke
your flame, which came from a tight lipped smile that
wish me the most beautiful hellos.
Upon the eve of early July, from which the heat of the sun
becomes aggressive, your freckles blossomed into a bouquet,
that shined aside your elegant dress. Darkened in nature,
the color of the void you wore, yet was molded to your whim,
your radiant, resplendent figure.
For the sake of my sanity I will admire as much as my mind will
allow me to comprehend. Hazelnut hair in waves that flowed
down like opulent bordeaux.. Your legs hidden in stockings, they
muted their glow of moonlight and silk. You are a walking wonder,
the embodiment of immaculate gloam.
Dancing outside a mansion, at a celebration of significant love
I felt my very core absorb all the attendants’ admiration,
so I may orchestrate the concentrate of my overflowing dam.
To say what may be simple I may admit, but these words are
pure osmium,
“I want this feeling for forever, if you would let me share it.”
My “honey” with chestnuts will not come for Christmas,
It’s life, you have to enjoy yourself anyway
once a year,
New Year’s menu to enjoy at the time you like,
Foie gras with a glass of Monbazillac,
Snails with butter,
Scallop shell with lemon-white butter
Short break
Quail with hot mango
and hazelnut potatoes,
Maybe cheese with the tour des grands ducs (local wine)
Then the dessert
Traditional bûche de Noël
You are all welcome
No need to be a millionaire even at Christmas
Merry Christmas ou Joyeux Noël
Ma « dinde » aux marrons ne sera pas pour Noël,
C’est la vie, il faut se faire plaisir quand même
une fois dans l’année,
menu du réveillon à déguster à l’heure qu’il vous plaît,
Foie gras avec un petit verre de Monbazillac,
Escargots au beurre persillé,
coquille Saint jacques au beurre blanc citronné
Petite pause,
Cailles accompagnés de mangue chaude
et de pommes noisette,
Peut être du fromage avec la tournée des grands ducs ( vin local)
Puis le dessert
Bûche de Noël traditionnelle,
Vous êtes tous invités
Pas besoin d’être millionnaire même à Noël
Joyeux Noël
I do enjoy imbibing a vintage libation
now and again (and again, and again)
but when I thought I'd bought
the best bottle of Bordeaux money can buy,
then looked at the label on the back,
before pulling the cork, I nearly had a heart attack.
'Characterised by a great body,' it stated,
'velvety cedar and hazelnut texture,'
but my taste buds went unsated,
'with an intense deep ruby red colour,' to summarise,
'possesses exceptional aromas of cherries,'
and much to my surprise,
'with hints of vanilla, blackcurrant, raspberries,
cassis and tobacco which reveal
a long, chocolaty finish and a good mouth feel.'
Altho' this above-average beverage may in time be fine,
I'm truly convinced no grapes were unduly harmed
in the making of this wine!
Hazelnut, again, but this time
Coconut was shelved
And chocolate the new flavor
Into which I gladly delved.
Como was the town, right on
The very famous lake,
A place I'd always hoped to see
On trips I'd planned to take.
My father served in WWII
And this is where he fought,
At least that is the info
'Bout the war which I was taught.
He didn't like to talk of it
And certainly, I'm sure,
He never got to see the lake -
The tourists' biggest lure.
But now I'm in Bellagio,
A boat ride 'neath my belt,
Imagining my dad so young
And wond'ring what he felt.
I wish he'd had at least a chance
To taste my favorite treat;
I'm making up for what he missed
With every cone I eat.
Today I'm going to spoil me.
Sleep in for an extra hour ... or three.
Stay in pajamas well past noon,
though this day will be over much too soon.
Warm fuzzy slippers on my feet,
hazelnut coffee, a special treat.
These simple pleasures are all too rare
when I treat myself to some extra care.
The cat, she's purring, happy I'm here.
Enjoying the fact that "mommy" is near.
No watch on my wrist, no place to be,
just curled up on the couch watching T.V.
In my hectic life such days are few
so it's time to refresh, relax, renew.
The simple pleasures that I love best
are the ones that give me my much needed rest.
15/01/2016