Long Lemons Poems

Long Lemons Poems. Below are the most popular long Lemons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lemons poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Food At Grandmas

Grandma McCormick’s table is even better than table of mother. 
She lavishly decorates it with fruits, pies and meats like no other
Pineapples, strawberries, plums, apples, lemons and peaches too
She tries to find something everyone will like when she is through.

Ham, chicken, squash, roast beef, for my rather picky Uncle Jim.
She includes the vegan in the family also, inviting them in.
Kiwi and carrots, salad made with my favorite blue cheese.
Her cold dishes area iced, staying cool as a summer’s breeze.

The pies do not fit, so they have to have a table of their own.
Chocolate, cherry, custard, lemon, blueberry, is that a scone?
My mouth begins to salivate when I smell grandma’s kitchen.
For her brown sugar squash, my taste buds are simply itch’n.

I have eaten at some fine restaurants in my day, for sure.
But Grandma’s table is always the one that is delightful and pure.
She takes such pride in making everything tasty and fine.
There is no table better than the table of that grandma of mine.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Year 2025

Were you offended in 2024?
You are likely to be offended in 2025.
The offense may not be because of you.
Rather, it will likely happen inspite of you.

Perhaps in 2024, there were grey  clouds
in many of your days that took  away your smile.

Were you grieved in some way in 2024?
It's likely you will face a measure of grief in 2025.
God forbid that the grief would be great in 2025.
Also remember: God's Grace is always suffient.

Did you suffer some injustice in 2024?
May God bless you with better things in 2025.

Were you compelled to consume lemons that made
you bitter in 2024? Or were you overwhelmed with
negativity that soured your spirit?  In 2025, I pray
 that God will srengthen and enable you to make
the sweetest lemonade.

Premium Member Thorn Pricks

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, but who's elated about                                                        greeting thorns when picking roses from a bush or picking lemons from a tree?                                                      I observed from the start that I'd never seen a lemon tree so guarded with most of its lemons in deep and difficult to reach areas behind its new growth of limbs. It was as if the tree in 'Tartspeech'* said to me, "You are free to have and consume my lemons if you can endure the munitions of my thorns".

At the time that my wife was offered fresh lemons by a friend, I did not extrapolate the assigned mission by my wife, and prior to my first approach I had not considered the resistance I would confront nor the pain I would have to overcome.  After all, some things are instinctive and routine, not necessitating calculations and strategies. I had no thoughts of the combative nature of the lemon tree until I attempted to extract its lemons. One look at the pointed thorns gave me pause and forced a distraction to count the cost of extraction.  I then proceeded cautiously lest I should bleed excessively.

Also at the time, I did not count the number of my pricks, but my best guess would be 10 or less, one of which grew noticeable blood.  None, however, triggered a retrenchment or convinced me to quit.  I did count the lemons upon arriving home, and they totaled 82 as I recall.  A nice crate of lemons   for less than 10 pricks. I'd say, not a bad tradeoff.                                      

On these early winter mornings, I have green tea and a mixture of the lemon's juices with a spoon of honey, also given by our friend.  It's then that I take a different kind of pause and realize the worth of it all.

011220PoSoupCtest, Favourite Poem from January 2020, Julia Ward                                                                                                                                                                 *Vocabulary.com Dictionary. As an adjective, tart describes a sour taste, like lemon. Website, Blurtit: Yooti Bhansali answered.  ...The word is also used to denote a manner of speech that is especially bitter or blunt in the way it is spoken as well as the connotation of the spoken comment. ....
Form: Narrative

Premium Member I'M Always Right Here

If the river rises and the dame breaks                                                                                                                                    If the creek overflows and washes up on the bank                                                                                                            I'll be there to protect you; I'll be your first responder                                                                                          because I'm always right here

If the star breaks through the atmosphere and devastates the earth                                                                                    If war breaks out and you are covered beneath the ruble                                                                                                     I will search the depths until I find you                                                                     
because I'm always right here                                                                                                                                                                    

If your life throws you a bad rap or sour lemons                                                                                                                  and adversities attack you like a pack of demons                                                                                                             You need never fear nor ever fight alone                                                                                                              because I'm always right here                                                                                                                  

In sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth                                                                                                              Through highs and lows, good times and bad times                                                                                       For you always, I am always right here with you

02282019PoSoupContest, I'm Always Right Here, Craig Cornish
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Street Life Pitbull Thug

(Intro)  
Yo, I got scars on my knuckles and dreams in a duffle,  
Life gave me lemons, I sold 'em in a hustle.  
Mandy said “swing by,” I said “bet,” no delay—  
But what happened next? Man, lemme just say...

---

Verse 1
Mandy told me to stop by, I pulled up in Crocs,  
Knocked twice, no answer, just a squirrel throwin' rocks.  
Saw a van in the back, lookin' shady and mean,  
Used a pry bar like it’s part of my hygiene routine.  
Next thing I know, red dots on my chest,  
FBI yellin’ “Freeze!” like it’s a dance contest.  
I said “I’m cold already,” they ain’t laugh at the pun,  
Did five years in the pen—now I floss with a shiv for fun.

---

Verse 2
Got out, still mad, still that Mangy old pitbull,  
Named “Chaos,” got a grill and a GED, real cool.  
He bark in Morse code, talkin’ ‘bout stocks and bonds,  
Taught me crypto in the yard with some ramen and tongs.  
Now I’m back on the block, wearin’ ankle bling,  
Got a parole officer who raps—calls himself “King.”  
We do drive-bys in a Prius, eco-friendly thug,  
Still livin’ that street life, pitbull cuddles and hugs.

---

 Verse 3
I got a tattoo of a toaster, says “Bread or Dead,”  
And a mixtape droppin’ soon called Felony & Fred.  
I sell dreams in Ziplocs, hope in a can,  
And I once got arrested for moonwalkin’ in a traffic jam.  
My ex said I’m toxic, I said “Nah, just seasoned,”  
She keyed my car, I thanked her—now it’s art, no reason.  
So if you see me in the alley with a kazoo and a mug,  
Just know you met the legend: Street Life Pitbull Thug.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member The Lemon Tree

Lemon tree lemon tree why does your fruit tempt me so
it first blossoms into a flower smelling sweet to the nose
but your fruit sunny bright yellow tempting to taste
its bitter sour flavor leaves you with a pucker face

Lemon tree lemon tree sugar your lemons need
for lemonade or squeezed the juice to flavor tea
Deceptive is the lemon tree with flowers that bloom sweet
but sour is the flesh of the fruit you eat

Lemon tree lemon tree like love to the heart
first love is forever than suddenly it departs
Sweet as a lemon blossom when love first appears
bitter as the lemon fruit when that love disappears

Lemon tree lemon tree if I should cut you down
would the pain of heartache be less profound
does love require to always add a sweet
is that the way for love to last and keep.
Form: Rhyme

The Power Is Out

The power is out
but rather than pout
I'll sit down and write a few rhymes

It makes me so happy
to write something snappy
when life throws me lemons or limes

My eccentricity
denied electricity
comes out in the open to play

Without hesitation
my imagination
shall leave quite a mark on this day

When out of the norm
one still must perform
to keep the mind sharpened and clear

For when you stay focused
you'll keep back the locust
from turning your peace into fear

The lights are back on
and the silence is gone
the hum of my fridge is so nice

Out of rhymes I have run
so my poem is done
and it came at a cheap enough price
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Blushing Daisies

Bright yellow sun, a stroke of noon’s delight.
Long shadow rays, the arms of time’s true North,
Embrace the golden meadow’s xanthous light.
And in her eyes, the specks of joy burst forth.

Amour of daisies blush, like lemons squeezed.
A vitamin to please his ladyship.
Her lids receive in bow, froth light has teased.
A parasol uplifts a shady drip.

Strong arms do touch the heat of love’s remix.
The song of beastly flowers reach for sky.
Her guard lets down. She drops her tent of tricks.
The prettiness illuminates her eyes.

The beauty and the beast outsmart the dark.
Like lightning strike, high noon set off a spark.

3/4/2018
Sunshine Sonnet contest/John Hamilton
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Lethal Warning

Whether the Good Lord or Charles Darwin gave Adam his fruit

Regardless of ideology versus faith rules our common pursuit


We need to accept that life is dangerous and fraught with peril

Don’t jump the gun before facing the reaper or his rifle barrel


Instead it might help to live for today and embrace what goes on

Make hay when the sun shines before the finite moment is gone


Roses have thorns nettles may sting and snakes poison for real

Not unlike families who can spew toxins they are unable to conceal


Choose carefully with whom you share your knife to slice bread

Not rocket since that otherwise you might be prematurely dead


You can turn a worm ridden table as often as you consider fit

Oil cleans surfaces and place mats but inherent fissures can split


Share a jug of water with a hint of mint draped with olive branches

Without preconditions or anger when you apportion the tranches


If life only gives you lemons plant yet another citrus fruit tree

Sour seeds hold promise and possibilities not that easy to see


Felines are said to have nine lives but humans have no such luck

It is best to unwind and enjoy current presence before we get stuck


When you stride in your strife remember you might be an example

Children are attentive and they learn fast what might not be ample


But whatever you decide do not toss out the baby with the bath

Don’t put the cat in the microwave as it might explode on its path


25th February 2020
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Which God Knows Where and When

Which God Knows Where and When

Many a Linda are amongst us and I wonder where have the
bishops been when she went down that hectic bi-polar road
She was a pawn in the game but then God is within us or not

An eye for an eye a few wormy apples from a garden of Eden
a bit of murky rain water on her journey from prison to prison
while society watched and had locked her beauty so far away

That manic-depressive bug resides in me and my family just
the same and I have been lucky and my freedom remained
I live on in my dreams make lemonade when given lemons

On the way to work I pass so many beggars at traffic lights
ease my conscience give an apple here and there a few coins
sometimes a bill but then rights are not amended from alms

A few clothes change their owner but whose clothes are they
anyway is my wealth God-given through the privilege of birth
am I mocking myself from a seat in chrome mechanised speed

‘Thank you for the shirts I will give one to the guy over there
over here at the crossroad’ ‘Thanks man and for a few days
I will be clean now’ my stomach turns in disgust of my wealth

Who knows who is poor and for what reason whose moods
shift from depression to elation what gears are shifted in an
attempt to keep living find guidance and sanity an apple or two

Linda died and her last name was Bishop and a troubling soul

June 2017

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