Long Pomegranates Poems
Long Pomegranates Poems. Below are the most popular long Pomegranates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pomegranates poems by poem length and keyword.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grew,
Still the broken down farm of my grandfather dwells.
I recall the bright red against a sky of blue,
And from that farm kitchen drifted delicious smells.
Oh the sweetness of that bush when the wind blew,
People asked grandma how- but she never tells.
Stories of her sweet red fruit pie we all knew,
To a visitor, help yourself grandpa would yell.
Grandma was famous for her red jam too,
Ruby red jars were stored on wood shelves.
I recall the twinkle in grandma's eyes of blue,
Often, I take a drive to that farm that still dwells;
Outside the city where the pomegranates grew.
_________________________
April 29, 2016
Poetry/Lyric/Outside The City
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-867-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
There are moments when I wish to give up, frozen by fear.
As I sit here next to you my dear.
But it took me forever find you, for now you are near.
I do love you, and want you to stay here.
I can't let it all go down the drain.
With time, I have much more to gain.
Honestly, no one has ever done so much for me.
I have to trust God, for my future I cannot see.
At times I feel isolated, forgotten, rejected.
By a lover, not perfected.
Yes, it's true, life can be cruel.
Tell me who was the winner of this unnecessary duel?
My eyes are as red as pomegranates.
No longer do I want to hold pain within my heart.
But to heal, when will we start?
For different we are, sometimes as dark as night, and bright as day.
Nobody knows how much I've sacrificed to stay here by your side.
All this time, having nothing more to hide.
No matter if I was wrong or right.
I know that everything will turn out to be, all right.
Let us lose our hearts, within the heart of Nature, my love,
Let Eros and Aphrodite protect us from above;
These green leaves of the white jasmine trees whisper new romance,
Their shy buds, bloomed overnight, stealthily lay their first glance...!
The chain of blue hills and mountains embracing day and night,
Inspire us to walk together in our lasting love flight;
The evening sun hiding betwixt these spreads its golden rays,
Invite us to, midst hide and seek, must not miss our love ways...!
Red apples that tempted Adam and Eve quietly call,
Cherries and strawberries, and pomegranates attention haul;
Pigeons, parrots, and peacocks passionate night secrets share,
Mares and hares and foxes love their partners and, for them, care...!
Down the hills gold black blue blended sea waves and twilight kiss,
Drifting clouds their chats with the costume-changing sky don’t miss;
What could be a better date spot than this dearest sweetheart?
What else could our handheld walks and fervid embraces outsmart...???
09 February 2023
My Dream Date Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
“I drink poetry like champagne in Timelessness, purifying me, strengthening me, calming me…” Poet
Fear not to seed dismantling of Time
as fairies jingle to eternal rhyme
relay questions to angelic billies
surrender thorned horn as muted chime
Delightful drum rolls voice verses frilly
listen lingering to lyrics silly
fingering silky hair, smooth tulip neck
frequency of name will be moon's tilly ~
Fear not to transmute hot tears that wreck
soothing away of niggly grains of speck
tinkle brass keys in freedom's pearly waves
gliding Spirit’s sanguine undying beck
Hail now, splendid maids with cute sterling knaves
let poems bring sleep in dream cosy caves
ache not for peeps or smooth ebony cheeks
drink pomegranates' nectar, leaving raves !
______———_______________________
Standard Contest : A Beautiful Rubaiyat
Sponsor : Constance la France
Feb. 26 : 2nd Placement
____________________________
Outside the ancient city
where the pomegranates grow,
one walks into another world
on distant shores from long ago;
a grave of stone and marble...
monuments that stand
to guard the saddened ghosts
of ancient souls on broken land.
These great artistic wonders,
seen in scattered disarray,
of columns standing tall,
but others toppled, lay
so scattered on the fields
on which they proudly stood.
The works of Persian, Greek
and Roman empires should
in clear view proudly lie
for all to honor and behold...
the history of centuries
that here for all unfolds.
Outside, now fairly modern,
the Turkish city of Izmir...
the old historic Pergamon...
lies bare to see, revere,
besides its world bygone
that here existed long ago,
outside the ancient city
where the pomegranates grow.
Sandra M. Haight
~6th Place
Contest: On Distant Shores
Sponsor: Robert Haigh
Judged: 07/22/2018
~Honorable Mention~
Premiere Contest: A First Line Prompt
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Judged: 05/03/2016
Izmir is noted for farming and selling pomegranates
Since my visit there twenty-three years ago, I learned that
many of the ruins have been restored.
Green! This is what comes before me when I think of parrots.
Aren't, yet, red, blue, indigo and mix of all their merit?
Mingling midst moss-green leaves; moving like calm breeze midst them,
Parrots have their ways of singing their daily sans-anthem...
Papayas and pomegranates stand so shy when they arrive,
Camouflaging their colors, these, within and midst them thrive.
Careless and carefree...? Nay. They know their undefined freedom.
Amalgamating with the limitless nature-kingdom...
short, sturdy, curvy beak that resembles an antique art,
As though, within it hides austere, authentic earthling heart...
I cannot bear them brooding in a cage, silver or gold,
Every parrot in us should come out courageous and bold...!
25 September 2022
A Flock of Birds Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
In the beginning, there was salt.
It hung in the air like unfinished scripture,
gathered in the throat of the sea,
waited for a mouth dumb enough
to mistake thirst for an invitation.
Then butter,
smeared on the void like gossip,
greased the dark’s knuckles
like an understudy,
taught the abyss to melt.
The first sound was not speech—
it was a swallow,
a hush,
a crack of cartilage between molars.
We spoke in reductions.
Grammar dripped from the bones.
On the second day, teeth—
tiny altars lined with nerve—
ground memory into ashable pulp.
Pomegranates burst like promises.
Figs cloaked their apples in lace.
By the third, we named what softened.
We named what burned.
Built ziggurats from rind to rind.
Wrote psalms in onion skin.
The fourth hung hunger in the firmament—
a constellation shaped like mouths
mid-ask.
On the fifth, we forgot the recipe
and mourned it like a god.
By the sixth, we’d tongued every fruit
that offered a rumor of sugar.
We learned:
the mouth is a beast with no leash
and excellent taste.
And on the seventh, we lay full and feral,
belly to sky,
licking
the holy oil from our fingers.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
Stars are agleam as the moon dips low
And lovers meet 'neath moonlight's glow
To share love's caress as their kisses flow
Beneath the pomegranate tree
They taste the flavor of love
As the seeds of their passion spread
And the fruit of the tree blushes red
When springtime skies are azure
the pomegranate tree will bloom once more
But when the night invites the moon
To play among the stars
Lovers will meet when the moon dips low
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
----
Oh Syrinx, by the lake where you await, blossom anew!
Proud of murmurs that speak of goddesses, in a reverent hue.
Unleash the waists of shadows, in my tales they live and breathe,
As I imbibe the brightness of the grape, dispelling sorrow.
Laughing, I raise the emptied glass beneath the summer sky,
Breathing into luminous skins, yearning until evening nears.
Oh nymphs, let us rise again, with joyful memories,
My eyes piercing through reeds, striking each immortal form I see,
Submerged in waters under the forest's tumultuous sky,
With cries of anger and splendor, swiftly passing by.
Glorious strands of hair slipping, adorned with jewels of the brightest hues,
I hasten forth, to this bank of roses in the gentle sunlight.
All fragrances wasted, as our revelry dissipates in the shade,
Where our merriment should linger, like a day long past.
I adore you, wrathful virgins, delicate and shy,
The secret fears of flesh, from heartless foot to timid thigh.
Happy to conquer these fears, my crime is but to partake
In the gods' mingled kisses, a passion from within.
As I conceal a laugh within one, the other burns brightly,
Yet this quarry forever flees, showing no pity in its flight.
No matter! Others lead me to joy, with tangled locks,
And ripe pomegranates buzzing with bees' sounds.
At this hour, amid gold and ashes, the forest stirs,
A banquet amid extinguished leaves.
On Etna's slopes, where Venus walks with effortless grace,
Sad slumber rumbles where the flames leave their trace.
I hold the queen, in an embrace of certain punishment,
No words, as my soul and heavy body yield to silence's embrace.
Forgetting blasphemy, I surrender to noon's proud silence,
Lying on the thirsty sand, embracing the true rush of wine.
Farewell to both of you: I depart to witness the shadows you've become.
:: 04.20.2024 ::
Flowers in a vase
Gifts of nature's bounty;
Fragrant beauty adorns
~~~~~~~~~
Lizards stride
Wall to ceiling;
Snacking stray insects
~~~~~~~~~
Gold fish bowl
Swimming jewels;
Watery perfection
~~~~~~~~~
Glass of wine
Fragrant red tint;
Nature's own vigour
~~~~~~~~~
Idyllic vineyards
Land stretching far;
Grapes for the wine press
~~~~~~~~~
Stray flowers dance
Wind blown wayside;
Grass verge boundary
~~~~~~~~~
Nature's abundance
Pomegranates and persimmons;
Fruit basket gift
~~~~~~~~~
Temple visit
Gifts for ancestors;
Lovely dispensations
~~~~~~~~~
Rooftop garden stroll
Busy bees buzzing;
Honey industry
~~~~~~~~~
Noisy nestlings
Evening feed secure;
Treetop apartments
~~~~~~~~~
Late evening breeze
Cold wetness chills;
Rain on the way
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
18 August 2014
Singapore