Orchard Poems

I Miss The Crab Apple Orchard, And Pretending To Be A Knight

Life has an odd habit 
of making you miss 
old street curbs and 
stop signs. 

The street I miss 
the most, though, 
has to be the cross 
street between the 
crab apple orchard 
and my friend 
Jacksons 
house. 

Something about that 
place felt infinite. And 
something about sometimes
friends feels greater than 
sometimes. 

Would I go

The Orange that remembers

I ate a tangy orange today—
its honeyed nectar pulled me back,
to the orchard, where the air danced
with citrus and sunlight.

That tangy, sweet fragrance
brought back a rush of memories:
childhood days of spraying peels,
stinging our eyes, saying, “It’ll make your eyes brighter,”
each sting a playful dare.

I see my mother now,
drying the peels on the windowsill.
What spell was

Orchard of Dragonflies

The sky scatters pixie dust~
across orchards of dragonflies;
while in sunflowers, the stars do trust,
tracing tales through kohl-lit eyes. 
A fairy cloaked in soft florals~
fragranced moon-mists and rhinestone rust.
But within veins of golden corals,
she weaves hope with saffron crust.  

Dance in the Orchard

When the leaves of autumn take a breather, they fall
dropping colored reminders of their curtain call.

Winter's bare branches show the icy pall of death -
but underneath lie seeds waiting for a first breath.

With the advent of spring comes forth revenant life;
shoots from those same branches are abundantly rife. 

Skipping through the weeks to summer, from

Near The Peach Orchard

"Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." Rumi 

She sits near the peach orchard
Waits to take love's calloused hand
Autumn's leaves are nearly gone
Winter's cold wind on life lands

Whispers in soft twilight glow
As snow on the mountains fall
Memories like

Orchard with Cypresses A painting By Vincent Van Gogh

In sunlit fields where olive trees grow,
Vincent wandered, mind aglow.
The blue of skies, a restless sea,
Matched the turmoil he longed to free.

The cypresses stood tall and proud,
Dark green fingers, reaching the cloud.
They whispered secrets to the breeze,
Of madness, pain, and transient peace.

Golden hues of wheat did dance,
In the light’s eternal trance.
A vivid orange, a burning

Orchard

Apples
turning pink
neighbor's yard

Orchard Smudging

Orchard Smudging
Written: by Miracle Man
3/28/2024

When, heavy frost was forecast,
for all the area and reaches.
Orchards would burn smudge pots,
trying to save their peaches.

A northwesterly wind whispers,
through recently budding trees.
We pray the temps don’t fall,
and the peach buds don’t freeze.


Smudging is not widely practiced today
due to health concerns.

Kill with kindness

The quotes say's kill them with kindness,
so you offer the most righteous kind of kindness you can,
And they take that kindness that you so carefully cultivated and nurtured,
And with gates wide open you allow them to freely pick from your kindness Orchard,
But through arrogance and greed they take advantage of this act of kindness,
Taking more

I AM GOD'S FRUIT IN THE ORCHARD-

I am a fruit in
 the orchard fully blossomed
flourish fully bloomed
~
so I am of mine
 Father plants His breath in me
alive am I a...
~
fruit of my Father 
heart Breath of His Breath flower
He's my strong tower

12/29/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023

White Daisy Orchard

Written: November 05, 2023
                  ________________________________________

Amidst spotless linen rosebuds
I observe you blazing a fire
In the core of a volcano's lair
slithering
glissading
laughing
Queen of the Sun,
Queen of Earth
angels shielding you with their wings
to quench one's thirst
for my vital breath.

A warm deluge of

Apple Picking

Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees,
Running feet rumbling the soft ground,
Clusters of red among the green leaves.

Children laughing, being chased by bees,
Snapping off apples, firm and round,
Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees.

The smell of cider wafting in the breeze,
Wishing the orchard was open year-round ,
Clusters of red among the green leaves.

Dads

Apple Picking

The old wooden gate is inviting.
A testament to the careful hands of a previous owner. It squeals a greeting as the celtic filigree moss yields to my presence.
I discard my footwear, seeing the need to connect with the fertile green mat of welcome. Apples hang like fragile bejewelled baubles, sweet and dew laden.
A translucent moist

Lorca Translations Iii

Lorca Translations III

Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936) was a Spanish poet, playwright and theater director. He was assassinated during the Spanish Civil War and his body was never found.

Paisaje (“Landscape”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
translation by Michael R. Burch

The olive orchard
opens and closes
like a fan;
above the grove
a sunken sky dims;
a dark rain falls
on warmthless lights;
reeds tremble by the

Becoming Familiar

("Cherry Blossom Chi", 2023, original encaustic)

Becoming Familiar

One branch stands out
on the fruiting tree
yet the valley is filled with orchards
in bloom.

What is genius
in time becomes the norm
more through familiarity
than hard work.

But it makes me wonder
who do I emulate
and if even
they can be followed.

For me at least,
the effort is an excuse
for the genuine
becoming familiar.

(5/9/2022, originally published in

• Short Orchard Poems
• Famous Orchard Poems
• Best Orchard Poems
• Read Orchard Poems
• Long Orchard Poems
• Orchard Quotes