Frankly it’s a lot easier for me
To visualize whirled peas than world peace,
And I imagine that’s true for everyone.
The only way for me to visualize world peace
Is through the eyes of a child
And more and more
That child needs to be younger and younger.
To say these are difficult times
Is a truism verging on trite,
But with every challenge comes a reward
And after every night a dawn
To cite a few more apt and trite truisms.
Do I have hope? Not really
Do I have fear? Not really
What I have is honor for those who try
And celebration for those who succeed.
AC/DC sang it best,
“It’s a long way to the top
If you wanna rock ‘n roll”
So let’s rock ‘n roll.
(9/14/25)
I'm not like you
you're not like me
on that
you and I
we can agree
but
strange to say
and there's no mystique
Snap!
we're really all the same
in that...
we are all unique!
I don't know
where iceberg lettuce
winter squash
or snow peas grow
but it seems to me
it's not down there
in Antarctica
where and when it's freezing below
which only goes to show
pointing out if not advising
there's bait and switch in the pitch
and no truth to their advertising
two peas in a p o
d
diverse polar opposites~
pure friendship persists
There was a pub called the Cross Keys
Well known for its pork pie and peas.
But the watered down beer
Gave drinkers no cheer.
And the seats were crawling with fleas.
The sensitive strokes of Georgia O'Keeffe's brush
have aroused in sweet pea petals, a tender pink blush
In these ruffled labian folds, painted as a fragile flower
buds beget blooms in their feminine garden bower
Blending spherical
green orbital mental thots
with a pea for brains.
The pearls of life are
strung like green ornamentals
on the equator
I planted sweet peas in my garden.
Then I watched them grow.
I planted sweet peas in my garden.
Now pretty blossoms show.
Won't you join me in my garden?
I'll plant periwinkle bliss.
Won't you join me in my garden?
Then you can plant a kiss.
I love you. I love you. I do. I do.
I love you. I love you. I do.
They are so old-fashioned, these two peas in a pod.
I heard this from Jake, Fred, Sally, Victor and Maud.
Saw them in public, they were wearing century old clothes.
Why they dress like this, I doubt that any other pea knows.
Poetry and math - two peas in a pod.
Why then do you look at me so odd?
They’re both to discover and express
The simple truth beneath the mess.
People started running,
for buses, taxis, trains,
with umbrellas no defence,
against the wind and rain,
a drowned rat cycled past,
then disappeared down a lane,
when lightening flashed, I dashed,
hoping to dry out again.
I shot past the pub’s “welcome” sign,
“No Prams or Pushchairs Inside”,
then scrutinised the menu,
for something not micro’d or fried,
with my paper, pint, pasty, and peas,
I sat by the warm fireside,
waiting for the storm to pass,
and brighter weather outside.
They are so old-fashioned, these two peas in a pod.
I heard this from Jake, Fred, Sally, Victor and Maud.
Saw them in public, they were wearing century old clothes.
Why they dress like this, I doubt that any other pea knows.
will need a black eye
to eat peas with a black eye
which was done by I
My one true delight
The sweetest of peas
The flowering type
Not the edible
The exquisite array
of so many pastel hues
Each shade I adore
no favorite can I chose
Their enchanting perfume
doth fragrance my room
So delicate
So dainty
So divine
Dear humble sweet pea
your flowers to me
are truly a favourite of mine
Written June 2023
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1224
Sponsor Brian Strand
9th position in Premiere Contest
Related Poems