Pomegranates Poems | Examples

Pomegranates aren’t messy

pomegranates aren’t messy. 
there quite a few
who don’t have a clue 
of how to handle the delicate fruit 
so it doesn’t spew

They take one look 
And determine its some type of crook 
don’t even take a moment 
To observe its unique tidiness
 
They take a spoon 
And don’t wait to gut it 
To make it messy 
And leave it until it’s uncleanly
they don’t take the time 
Out of their lives 
To hold it steady 
And make sure it’s ready 

They take and take 
The red color staining their fingers 
They wipe it on a towel, maybe a few 
Going on with their day 
Still not having a clue
 
Pomegranates aren’t messy 
your poetry just sucks 
Because if you take
What one offers 
You’ll see it’s unique tidiness
 
One it rewards to those who 
Don’t rush
And take the time out of their lives 
To hold it relentlessly 
So no, pomegranate aren’t messy 
They just need to be handled gently.

I love pomegranates

I love pomegranates
scientist found a full one  
age three thousands years 

In Tutankhamun's tomb, scientist found a pomegranate dated/from about 3200 years.

Waiting In Hunger For the Pomegranates To Fall

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
is a dusty hovel where love conquers all.
Nothing but love, no food, together they know
they will die before the pomegranates fall.

Dying for food to give strength so they can live,
Dying for laughter to share with the poor,
Laughter is free just no energy to give,
Crying together before the pomegranates show.

They dream of the richness of the fruits within,
The inedible skin that’s full of health healing goodness,
Lips touching as bodies yield to the sin,
Dreaming together, of the pomegranates fruitfulness.

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
The valley of darkness looms, waiting for the dead
people of Goycha, whose fight is no more
why did they die before the pomegranates shed!

Penned 1 May 2016

Where the Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where lush
Lovely pomegranates grow
The spring has sprung and flowers show
Birds rear their young in tones hushed

The lady weeps in a silent
Strain, love has left a broken heart
In pain, where the pomegranates start
To bloom once again, so vibrant

Hush my love your chance to shine bright
Slipped in on a cloud silver lined
A knight so good and deeply kind
Caught your tears throughout the long night  

He sprinkles them upon the air
Pomegranate bushes sprang up
Their juice forever fill your cup
Arise love, his maiden fair

Receive his love, freed from despair
Outside the city, in rural
Terrain. a perfect scene ~mural
Where pomegranates grow with flair

Inspired by Julia Ward contest A First Line Prompt
Written: May 01, 2016

First stanza of 

"I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud"

Written by: William Wordsworth
Which is called Lyric Poetry 

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils; 
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."

Where Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow

I vainly seek from the dogged strains of time, 

a moment to hide in, under limbs hanging low,

and by chance, or the devil’s cunning, find

courage, as welling seeds inward and bound,

but bleeding, weeping their intoxicating blood;

ever so rarely, under Heaven’s smile found,

possessed by low creatures, a-wallow in mud.

Then in such possession, enveloped so neatly

as roaring winds and biting sands gnash the air; 

with confident eyes, focus intently and sweetly

on the blossoms, those blossoms, everywhere.
     
     The whisper of death rustles limbs hanging low

     outside the city where the pomegranates grow.

4/30/16
For Contest: First Line Prompt
Hosted by: Julia Ward

Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
There's a boy I do know
He is long and tall and has a guitar in all
Oh how I love him with that tune he plays

He has eyes like the blue sky
Dreams of stardom and fame
He came from Maine, just to be
Outside where the pomegranates grow

Said I could be the one
Oh that could make him stay
Stay in one place but those lights
Those lights shine bright
Pomegranates slowly lose there scent

He has eyes like the blue sky
Dreams of stardom and fame
He came from Maine, just to be
Outside where the pomegranates grow

So he left, sometimes he comes back
He can't look me in the eye, and I cry still
Cry for that tune, for that memory
Can't ever see pomegranates 
Without seeing him in my mind.

He has eyes like the blue sky
Dreams of stardom and fame
He came from Maine, just to be
Outside where the pomegranates grow

Where Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
    Stars are agleam as the moon dips low
  And lovers  meet 'neath moonlight's glow
      To share love's caress as their kisses flow

 Beneath the pomegranate tree 
    They taste the flavor of love
 As the seeds of their passion spread
     And the fruit of the tree blushes red 

 When springtime skies are azure
  the pomegranate tree will bloom once more
    But when the night invites the moon
 To play among the stars
  Lovers will meet when the moon dips low 
    Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
                                   ----

Where the Pomegranates Grow

Where the Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Adonis I met strolling through an orchard row.
Paradise it was being with my enamored beau,
who adorned me with wildflowers from head to toe...
just outside the city where the pomegranates grow.

Youthful and carefree, we loved unabashedly,
for the gods had blessed us so abundantly.
Unbreakable was our bond and passionately,
we promised to love each other eternally...
just outside the city where the pomegranates grow.

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
we’d glitter like fireflies in a mystical love tableau.
Igniting cool nights with our warm golden glow,
we were twinkling stars in love forevermore...
just outside the city where the pomegranates grow.


04-23-2016

Outside the City Where the Pomegranates Grow,

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
I begin to wonder under a ruddy tree
The field of grass is caressed by the suns ultimate glow
All is so beautiful I wish it would stay, to never flee
This view of celestial proportion 
Will replenish my spirit and make me strong
Even though I’m enriched I wish for a devotion
A soul who will stand by, whom I will belong
My hope starts to fade
 As I look upon the horizon
I know there is a future for one I’ve prayed
A friend that cannot be replaced, he is the only one.
For now I sit under the pomegranate tree
My soul can wait 
In the start of a new dawn
When I have found my true fate
My love I will share and fawn
But until then I will gladly sit and dream 
I have things to do and shouldn’t conspire
I will wait and not be of despair, but remain in a gleam
Over my desire.

Promise of the Pomegranates

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
where a heart is free and the sky is wide
where time is slow like a rivers flow
and the crow that flies is your only guide
In orchards wild and row upon row
the pomegranates grow in the countryside.
Such dreams of peace relieve the crush
And guide the sweep of the painter's brush.

Outside the city where the four winds blow
Prolific with seeds the pomegranates grow 
And when in winter all covered in snow
the promise of spring and summer bestow
 Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
 I wait with the wisdom inside that I know
That seasons may come, or seasons may go
And the winds of change may toss us and blow
But in our hearts is a place we may go
Outside the city where pomegranates grow

First Line Prompt 
Julia Ward
N/ A’d

Where the Pomegranates Grow

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
there's a place so quiet and pretty
every chance, I get, I go
It's not often enough, that I can stroll among these trees
with the flavor of this fruit in a cool dry mountain breeze
But when the city gets to crowded
that it begins to over flow
I go outside the city, where the pomegranates grow

Among the Pomegranates

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Where that ocean that gently sweeps my brow, 
Collides with the rurality of the cows giving milk, 
In a fusion spring loaded with happiness and silk. 

My true love comes to me, 
My sweet blossom of agony, 
Offering affection and love, 
Rendering light from above. 

Leaves that brush up against my dark complexion, 
Swirl with buzz for life’s energising bright reflection, 
So active in their encouragement to ponder anew, 
On distances and hesitations that become only a few. 

My true love comes to me, 
My sweet blossom of agony, 
Offering affection and love, 
Rendering light from above. 

Rows and rows suggest the answer to all frowns, 
Is to inquire with nature and ecology’s ready gowns,
Wear them with pride because dignity will at last fall, 
When reason and truth wade the dark, turmoiled hall. 

My true love comes to me, 
My sweet blossom of agony, 
Offering affection and love, 
Rendering light from above.

Red Jewels In the Pomegranates

Outside the city where the pomegranates grow
Inside the doors where the bowls brim in a pink glow
Beside the river where your warmth melts in my shiver
There I would like to release my red birds in blue quiver
Birds playing perching pecking and penning lyrics
Birds leaning lavishly on the lovely luscious lychees
Jingly the waves arrive at the bank looking in purple envy
At the drunk birds satiating their lust in the chocolate glee

Open your dense door for I have to write a poem right now
Come on the dance floor or the river shore as you choose
Whisper in my waiting ears what poems you wish and how
The air is tipsy the moments gypsies please do not refuse                                             
Come dear, time passes, my words are in a marvelous flow
In the starlight where my pomegranates expectantly glow
________________________________________________________  
April 8, 2016
For A First Line Prompt - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward

A Passing of Pomegranates - For Contest

A Passing of Pomegranates


Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
he sits with his beads and chants - quiet drone
lost in the history of so long ago
bathed in the scent of trees red crusted dome.
Walks the same paths his ancestors trod
wanders beneath the trees they once planted
wonders what happened to nations – and Gods
longs for her hand and the wishes joy granted.
Stops for a moment to challenge the sky
curses its depth – its foreverdeep cold
longs to discover the tears yet to cry
outside the city where the pomegranates grow.


4/5/2016

submitted to – A First Line Prompt – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Julia Ward

Prisms and Pomegranates

A
     p
       p
         L
           E
             S  falling from a basket
where  a sapphire tunic
catches the 
color of the sea,
prisms from her teardrops
slice the happiness from me,
turning rainbows into oil slick
churning colors
round and round
tambourines and pomegranates,
making love without a sound.
Bathing in the fragrant fountains
at the base of waterfalls
we are shadows in the mountains
Love primieval rise and fall.
May the turtledove be silent
let the eagle cease to fly,
ere we dare to break the circle
of our passion 
you and I.

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