Long Watermelon Poems
Long Watermelon Poems. Below are the most popular long Watermelon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Watermelon poems by poem length and keyword.
I remember when I was very young,
and the promise had not been made yet.
I hadn’t realised that stealing was wrong,
So I stole a dime from my Mother’s purse.
She said that every time a girl steals,
It makes the baby Jesus cry,
And she sent me to my room,
Where I realised the promise had been broken.
“ While you are there you can pray,
Pray to Gentle Jesus to forgive you.”
In my room I explained to God,
That I stole the dime so I could buy watermelon.
I hid the Watermelon under my bed.
After a while I started eating some and a small
Watermelon seed got stuck in my throat.
My mother heard me choking and rushed me to hospital.
She cried , like the baby Jesus and I prayed to her to forgive me.
There are colors that can change
The way in which you feel
Experiments when they surround us
Show it's a fact that's very real
When you're feeling a little cool
Choose a color that brings warmth to you
Shades of Tangerine, Saffron and Coral
Will warm you through and through
When you're feeling way to hot
Cerulean and Aquamarine bring a sense of cool
Chartreuse is such a refreshing color
Like diving into a clear sparkling pool
For a carefree sunny summer day feel
Lemon will make your day bright
To bring on the feel of a crisp spring morning
Watermelon is sure to delight
To release the stress and calm your day
The colors that help you see clear
Also let your imagination run free
Lavender and Lilac will take you there
07/08/2017
How do these colors work on us
Is it all within our mind
I suggest you try it out
It's amazing what you'll find.
A little south of Heaven
On the Gulf of Mexico
Here in the Heart of Dixie
The living's easy and slow
The weather's mostly nice here
Round Mobile Bay
Sunshine when it ain't raining
It's beautiful today here in L.A.
Living in L.A.
Lower Alabama
Spanish moss, azaleas
A deep south panorama, Lower Alabama
So far south, can't get no farther
Off the map, feet hitting water
A little taste of the bayou
A little twang in our talk
Folks are friendly when they greet you
We say sir and maam and y'all
We love sweet tea, our chicken fried
Shrimp and grits, and pecan pie
And watermelon in season
Man, I love the smell of bacon
Smells like Sunday morning
Like America, tastes like freedom
Living in L.A.
Lower Alabama
Spanish moss, azaleas
A deep south panorama, Lower Alabama
So far south, can't get no farther
Off the map, feet hitting water
Now, some might say we've got it all
Hidden treasures to be found
Bellingrath and Mardi Gras
(The first one, mind you) and the USS Alabama
The stuff of dreams, music scenes
Golden beaches, island streams
Fresh seafood to die for
Piggly Wigglys, there's a few
Foosackly's, can't fake the Foo
A sea of Shunarrah billboards, oh Lord
Living in L.A.
Lower Alabama
Spanish moss, azaleas
A deep south panorama, Lower Alabama
So far south, can't get no farther
Off the map, feet hitting water
Alabam, here where I oughtta be
© 2017.
My Fourth of July memories are firmly intact.
We always got together with my aunt and uncle.
Which meant our cousins, and we had so much fun.
The day was about picnics, watermelon, carnival, parade.
Fireworks of course; and we always wore a new outfit.
In red, white and blue. Decorated our bikes with streamers.
Also red, white and blue. So much excitement, the town bristled.
You could hear people laughing on every block. Small town Iowa.
Everyone neighbored. We ran between the houses playing games.
The children were all outside, the cooking was already done.
We had hot dogs, hamburgers, baked beans, and watermelon.
Ice cream floats made with root beer; a scrumptious day.
We looked forward to all of it every year. The parade started at nine.
Everyone was up town, on the square. Lawn chairs all over the place.
Old people parked, waiting for their great grands to ride or dance past.
Everyone was moving; singing. Fourth of July was summer’s Christmas.
Prizes, popcorn, funnel cakes, cotton candy in two or three colors.
The carnival barkers were goosing up the excitement, assuring us of a win.
We usually wasted a lot of money trying for the big teddy bears.
Tilt-a-whirl, merry-go-round, pony rides, and Loop-De-Plane! Once a year!
The fourth of July! It was also my Daddy’s favorite holiday.
It was the one day of the year all of his high school buddies came back to visit.
He spent hours up town talking to them and laughing like he never did any other time.
We all sat on blankets and watched the fireworks at the park at nine p.m.
There is nothing in the world that makes me smile any harder
Or want to bring back a memory any harder than my childhood memories
of Chariton, Iowa on the Fourth of July!
I miss you…
I miss your deep brown eyes
Like chocolate kisses on your beautiful face
I miss your warm smile; it may not have lit up the room
But it certainly lit up my heart
I miss your long dark hair I used to play with so much
I miss your hands that I held in my own so often
I miss your lips that left a delicious watermelon taste on mine
I miss coming over at midnight, even if I had to walk
I miss everything about you, the way you’d bite my lips
I even miss the way you said my name with your beautiful accent
I miss the way I was when I was with you, I miss being happy
I miss driving around with your friends, even though we were alone
I miss your unwavering loyalty, and my own loyalty to you
I miss the way we used to hug, you in my arms
I miss the way we’d fight, yes even the way we used to fight
I’d take a million more fights with you then not being with you
I miss the way you would comfort me, even unknowingly
I just miss you
Tomatoes, watermelons, and grapes—
Do they seem to you merely as sustenance?
Within the tomato, flesh is shyly concealed,
Yet as it opens wide before you,
It imparts to you the truths of mathematics.
The watermelon blossoms into your laughter;
Within it, a synthesis of earth and plant—
A microcosm is born.
Never devour it at once!
Pay your reverence!
Only savor the entire universe within.
A shelter hotter than midsummer itself!
Grapes?
Clustered like tiny, dangling bells,
Do not pluck and consume them thoughtlessly,
Lest it be you who is consumed in the end.
This is a divine, sensuous intoxication
bestowed by God.
Mother Wit
It chooses to whisper
Having endured shouting decades
Feigned listening
Maelstrom's noise
Left behind
Is but a parade
Just married tin cans
Tied to mankind's bumper
How circular the process
Sitting atop time's tree house
This place of early discoveries
Where dos and don'ts became but chaff
Covering kernels of slow growing wisdom
Where innocence washed down
Curiosity's adult fantasies
Ala clandestine Smirnoff watermelon
Now
Hearing tiny sparrows
Nesting high above
Chirping hunger pangs
Awaiting mother and worm
Below
The squirrel rustling through
Acorns
Pausing
Listening to It
While listening to itself
A smile envelops the moment
As far as the eye can see
Roof tops recede
As conifers take their rightful place
Hosting fowl and predator alike
Hoping this stand of nature's essence
Will not be a last stand
In the distance
Heavy earth moving sounds
Pause to be absorbed
Swallowed by evergreen
Rock
Life
Nature's patience
It whispers
As It knows
For all who'll hear
The ancient sound
The BCE echo for many
The Big Bang frequency for others
Peace
Tranquility
Prescience
Hears not noise
Discerns not silence
But embraces the quintessential
Everything
That
Is
Nothingness
In disguise
Dare listen
God lets us see life from every angle. Anklebiters that we are. Fist fighters, black-eyed contenders, snivelers. The boss looks down, looks into our eyes, looks at our feet, looks underneath. We don’t see the cobwebs between our fingers and toes, in our mouth and ears. Our hairdos make us look like weirdos, piled fry-high, like the bride of Frankenstein. Our hearts shoved into the easy-bake of childhood. Black-spider shades grip our nose and tether behind our ears, holding onto dendrites. White teeth flash their watermelon pits, black and blue. God lets us see from every angle. The dark spots hinder perfect sight, the dark holes below lower lashes, thinning lips, fattening thighs, exercising our rights, but mostly wrongs. I hear the gong...not many do. Do we belong to the world or to our God? Is this yet Babylon. Our speech once babbled, have we forgotten? Why do you think we don’t all speak the same language? Scientists prove there’s been a worldwide flood. Jesus walked the earth and the sun. Now you see the one world coming together. Remember what happened last time the world did this — were we not scattered? Scientists say there was a continental divide — this once united mass. Indeed we are anklebiters, curtain climbers, toddlers. God lets us find our own stray. Can we find our own way?
1/6/2021
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
as it is in heaven.
Matthew 6:10 KJV
Sorry she says, I don’t eat meat.
Okay, I agree. We have bread.
She shakes her head.
And fruit, I tell her.
Her eyes pop open. What is it?
Watermelon!
I am allergic to that, she tells me.
I look at my third grade daughter who is gloating in her grin.
The guest’s mama comes to get her a few minutes later.
No problem, even though I got stuck playing with her for the last hour.
Because my eight-year-old had not wanted to invite her in the first place.
Guest’s mama is thrilled that we had her over.
She thanks us over and over.
You were right, I say to my daughter, as I close the door.
Next time, let’s invite her mother, my daughter says.
There is no next time.
SUMMER SPLASH OF COLOURS
Walking in the garden under a cerulean sky,
The mild heat of the tangerine sun cools my mind,
Lavender buds have begun to bloom and I
Watch the soft lemon lilies slowly swaying behind;
Plucking a pink carnation of the watermelon pigment,
I stroll towards the shallow aquamarine pool,
There I pause to breathe in the fresh lilac scent,
Then, gingerly, I place my feet inside my reflection cool;
Small new chartreuse leaves fall on my head,
Like a blessing from God, and I'm wholly enthused
With my saunter through Nature's little flowerbed,
Where the summer splash of colours are diffused;
The coral honeysuckles look like flowers with red gowns,
Gazing at them, I never knew how time simply flew,
The clear blue sky turns saffron as the sun downs,
I amble back home, my heart filled with summer hues.
08/16/17