Long Tasty Poems
Long Tasty Poems. Below are the most popular long Tasty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tasty poems by poem length and keyword.
Completely unrestrained, sun drenched and yummy,
Tasting of the tropics, flavors so tender,
Falling from the coconut tree to greet my tummy,
Great amounts of fiber found in each bite….
Scrumptious like the mango, cashew and cherry
And, just like these – they aren’t nuts at all,
Instead, they’re a drupe, fleshy and a little harry,
The coconut palm is the national tree of the Maldives.
Coconut trees can bring 180 coconuts per yield,
Such a delicacy should be mentioned as quite tasty,
They bring so much sweetness to those who’ve peeled,
Despite those who thought coconuts were afflicted with a curse.
Though I didn’t realize the wonders of this flavor,
Now I know what it means to use coconut oil -
Feel the marvels of this amazingly beneficial savor,
Enjoyable in so many ways I can’t even illustrate.
Coconuts are more than just nuts that fall from the tree,
They pour out wonders in oil, butter and beverages,
Lasting long enough to prove that, to some degree,
Their charms make hearts flutter with appreciation for the drupe!
December
===================
By M.K.Dalei
I adore soft sweet cold
that purifies our heart,
It is our holy December
That makes nature smart.
The smoky sky ponders
Inky ocean dances so hard,
The lovely lush green field
Stretches fine it’s branch.
My eyes fly so high
drinking cold tasty nectar,
It is our dear December
that builds a heaven in air.
A tasty purple dream
you can paint if u want,
In a moonbeam blessed night
under cute tender blanket.
Let us plan for a picnic
In the lap of the nature,
Try to Make your days catchy
In this soft velvet December.
Took trash to the curb for this week's pickup,
And did a few more early morning chores.
In a region I once knew,
Were tasty days not a few.
Those summer rays would heat up the days;
But usually, a delta breeze cooled the nights.
Our present region has no such delight.
But on this early mid- August morning,
A summer breeze said "Good Morning",
Soothing me softly as I watered the flowers.
She blew gently as I also watered the pepper
And tomato plants.
The soothing gentle breeze felt my gratitude.
Sensing my curiosity, and discerning my present
summer crave, she quietly said to me,
"Like an Arch Angel, I broke through the
Torturing heatwave just to give you a taste
Of another form of the heavenly manna".
Beaming and satuated with delight,
I took a seat under our back balcony.
It bloats me out and makes me wheeze;
I have an allergy to cheese
Which makes it hard to find a mate
For reasons I shall now relate.
A simple sniff of curds and whey
Provokes an itchy rash display.
So cheesaholics need to know
That for my sake, the cheese must go!
This ultimatum has a flaw
For cheese exerts a pungent draw.
So far, I’ve lost my sweet Viola
To a tasty ‘Gorgonzola’.
Then sweet Suzanne from ‘gai Paris’ *
Preferred a mild and creamy ‘Brie’.
And as for fit and feisty Hedda;
She deserted me for ‘Cheddar’.
All dreams that Kate would see it through
Were melted by a cheese fondue,
And hopes were shattered too when Claire
Would not forsake her smooth gruyère.
The list is long – they came and went
Preferring taste to sentiment.
And even ‘Stinking Bishop’ won
The heart of Rose : I felt outdone!
But now at last, I’ve found my match;
A truly ‘made-in-heaven’ catch.
It’s serious! I’m on my knees!
She’s vegan and averse to cheese!
* ( French pronunciation'Paree')
12/11/18
'Write a poem about cheese contest' : Sponsored by: Barry Stebbings
Many boyfriends as thou have of all kind,
Does not mean your beauty makes many blind.
Product of your maker, sell...
As affordable as hell;
So bury that alive in your pure mind
But don't lose faith for love in trust of men;
Cain and Abel cometh from Adam's den-
Who lost God's way to your type,
Yet produce good man so ripe
That still at death, seeks to forgive again...
Know this and know peace; of look don't dare hook,
For beauty isn't about pretty look.
Switch away from deception:
Switch onto nice exception-
One that defines mindful soul cum outlook.
Shine, let not kindness be sure to free time
But be of truth to bind tight schedule's prime
Around life threatening issues...
By love alone off abuse,
Timing faint tablet of wicked heart's grime.
Stay positive, there's time for every thing,
Chance brings people you meet in life's blue swing...
Heart designs the kinds you want,
Outlook signs the ones love flaunt...
To stay put cum germane revolving string.
Meanwhile, beforehand don't spoil your own show
As you keep rushing through process to grow...
Your blind tasty life's standard;
Buying out scheme hate slandered,
Just style end to justify means if slow.
Seldom now, but once popular,
carnal Feast of Adam and Eve.
A Christian tale, if you believe,
spun, no doubt, by a gospeler.
Late December, Mystery Play –
downfall, the original sin.
Played on stage, moral tale to spin,
a day both frightening and gay.
Reenactment of solemn scene
was surely presented well-posed.
Original sin, acts exposed,
with performances now obscene.
Paradise Tree prettified strung
with roses, lit candles, and sweets.
Apples and wafers, tasty treats,
all upon the bare tree were hung.
O, Tannenbaum, I may believe
this festival, your lasting fame,
the current Christmas Tree became,
that we adorn on Christmas Eve.
Stopping By Corn Field On A Sunny Day
with apologies to Robert Frost
Whose field is this I'm sure I know.
he's busy in the barn now though
and will not see me stopping here
to find his corn in rows and rows.
The stalks of corn are full of cheer
and cobs are tasty chased with beer;
and golden corn is calling me
to pluck and run, I have no fear.
It's late of day, no one will see
except the sun and she agrees
one or two will not be missed,
it's just a question of degree.
Heaven knows that I will weep
if I drive away with empty Jeep!
So now I have sweet corn to eat ~
sweet corn to eat before I sleep.
With trembling fingers I’d opened the bloodstained envelope
But I shouldn’t have been surprised at the state of the paper …
you work as a butcher
Your message was short -
Meet me at the footbridge at midnight
I’ll bring the blue tartan blanket .. I have a surprise for you
My heart skipped a beat when I recall the last time we met
We had a moonlight feast then made mad passionate love
Our bodies rising and falling like the tide
Then came crashing back down to earth on the blue tartan blanket
I hastily gathered together some tasty treats for our picnic
then put on my white gypsy top with black ribbon lacing
which accentuated my curvaceous figure
You could feast your eyes on me whilst we dined!
Hurrying along the towpath; my black cloak swirled in the autumn breeze
I felt like red riding hood carrying my brown wicker basket
I could see you standing on the footbridge
Your huge frame silhouetted in the moonlight
You ran to greet me and your lips crushed into mine
Arm in arm we strolled to the shelter of the gnarled oak tree
I spread out the blanket, unpacked the picnic and we ate hungrily
You asked me to close my eyes …I smiled and waited for my surprise
Two days later a dismembered body was found
Lying on a blood soaked tartan blanket
24th August 2016
This thick mucous essentially
the defense mechanism of a healthy
body electric to restore biz zee nose
as usual, which for this mild mannered
liberal leitmotif from the chronicle of one
matted nattering nabob of nativity attests
congested mob functioning like
a well lubricated machine, yet
for the life of me, nary a handy dandy
blues clues evident as per, how
the human entity empowered
to steamroll over
any reasonably annoying bugaboo.
Ah, now if only a similar innate
defense mechanism arose
within the mental health,
that would be a supreme testament
to thine atheistic tasty mints of miracles
minus the attendant pharmacopeia
of this, that or some other drug to aright
skewered psyche (of this contemplative,
emotive and intuitive literate outlier),
whose sixty two plus eight shades
of gray matter went awry and skewed
toward tipping point (to cope with ordinary
cares and concerns of an uncertain
whirled wide web) found the bulk
of his life riddled with a joe king,
gun slinging tub back ha chew win,
bard **** wordsmith,
who doth newt like to utter any
cryptographic crossword.
I am a blue Swallow. I was born in the late summer, and
my parents taught me everything they could before leaving
me to fend for myself. I spent all autumn gathering food and
hiding it in a thousand places ... I have a good memory !
Oh, winter, winter all the time! Will, you ever end? Each day is
a struggle, so many days with snow falling, winds blowing and
freezing temperatures. I have grown dense and downy feathers
and can drop my body temperature. Shivering keeps me warm !
I like to cuddle and roost with my bird friends on a tree branch
being close keeps us warm and we like to pull up our feet, one
at a time, and I am good at finding warm places to sleep at night
like a tree cavity, any gap, nook or a house eave will do nicely !
I love how some nice humans put out feeders in the winter,
filling them with tasty seeds, and hanging suet from branches
even leaving warm water for washing, and even some leave
bird boxes where many of us set up a warm cozy winter home !
Oh, when will winter be leaving and spring coming please
I long for the sun to start melting the cold winter snow and ice
the trees will start to groan and creak as they come alive
and when I am sleeping ... I dream of beautiful things to come !
On a sunny branch I fluff up my feather and preen myself
I feel a change and I am gaily singing a song of happiness
for spring is here and it won't be long till all is lush green
I survived because I prevailed though I weigh only ounces !
_____________________
January 24, 2023
Poetry/Personification/A Swallow's Winter View
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1519-918-24
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Winter Is Not Forever
sponsor, BJ Legros Kelley, Judged 02/19/2023
Second Place