Pomegranate Poems - Poems about Pomegranate

a pomegranate with ruby marbles inside~ sweet n' sour delight ...

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I want to love you, untill my heart stops pumping, until my hands tremble but still find the strength to peel a pomegranate just for you. I want to love you until the last of my teeth stands defiant against time, until my eyes grow dim yet still search for you in every fading light....

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The world is somehow a pomegranate Every individual of us in it is the seeds Having stayed similar to juicy tastes Holding together long yawning for grace Dreaming to germinate in the spring breeze And to grow up and stand tall in the soil Blooming virtually and quietly in the Sun-rays And to appeal the amethyst ...

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what an autumn juice! beautiful dark sweet neat pink! so natural way!...

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Arid, bony-shanked carapace. Shiny, weathered patina tells of desolation, Belies any promise of richness; Yet when inverted, Becoming regal. A tatty, crown implies The ancient purport. Tough, yet easily-torn in avarice. Revealing, inner passion Shrieks fecundity and blood, Gleams with shiny liveliness; Yet when sundered, Serried jewels. A secret, inner-order shows The abundant warrant. Red, a study of translucence. Deep-hued, each perfect gem Fades to stalk-umbilicus, Foretells the unborn orchard; Yet when...

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PUNICA GRANATUM So you had a bad day? Think Pomegranate; the inside universe ... that inspired grenades, etymology, history, Jewish numerical blunders ... Roman blunders into Carthage again. Jewish Numerical Blunders as in estimating each Pomegranate has 613 seeds, matching the laws or rules of the Pharisees. The Pharisees were religious, followers of Moses, they said: but Jesus was...

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Cut open pomegranate Christmas lights aril Syrup drips erupt bitter volcano alluvium ooze Blackberry gall sullies crust creamy caramel Chroma pervades pavlova cracks in lilac hues North Pole prepared sugar sack, sans limit Blizzard whip season removes several months Egg fragile igloo glitters in shell smash grit Featherboa snow stiletto cabaret flamboyance Santa avalanches resume a ruby ice unity Investing in fuel for rocket...

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love pomegranate floral and fauna embrace phileo eros...

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This Poem was submitted for the poetry contest "Jamie's interesting contest 1" sponsored by Jamie Pan, for theme #6. Reflections in a window. Once while my mind was drifting through a cafe fenestration, Whence my cappuccino cup carouseled round a mindless spun spoon, A presence within a reflection's penumbral lines broke my lack of concentration: A woman stood between...

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Outside the city where the pomegranates grow, Rays of the sun there in yellow red glow, Grass wilting brown which is fanced by the stone, Whispers to crickets: »Our time here runs slow.« Outside the city where the pomegranates throne, Whistles are born in the shadows they've grown, Water is scarce and by hot sun consumed, Pomegranate's taste still to all...

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outside the city where the pomegranates grow, is where we buried the years six feet below. all of the magic clung to the tragic and we knew it was not time yet to go. but of all the love, i would not erase a single thing. all of the memories, i want to remember everything. we saw Aphrodite serenade a dove, and Eve,...

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Outside the city where the pomegranates grow, Sat a heartbroken maiden full of sorrow. So sorrowful was she that the veil she wore Was full-wet and soggy as never before. I knew not the lass, nor from where she had come, But the sound of her sobs set my heart athrum So into the grove where the pomegranates grow, I hurried...

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Not one, three bowls of lovely pomegranates Look, the passion incarnate Love or hate as you like, please don't desecrate Gateway to glorious ecstasy Of serene sensuality holding supreme creativity And the all seeing mighty eyes! Invitation to the abundant festival of inhalations ‘Come, honeycombs are ready Bees throughout eternity, come and benumb Come here and swamp the boat’ Under the lavish moon there...

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She counts the seeds Of my pomegranate heart The same, always the same No matter how many times she counts. Her fingers are stained And though she may wash and scrub There I will be In her skin, lodged in places Where she cannot wash me out...

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Memories of years gone by the fruit shop was our first call that lovely redsome fruit shaped like a cannonball A pomegranate is its name cut in half with a knife showing those juicy red seeds made your tongue come to life This fruit bearing shrub originates from Iran has many health benefits and is good for all of man poetgord@2013...

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