Ripe Poems - Poems about Ripe

I finally get it What they say is right Never walk with a woman On the road to maturity That person will be in tears And closet yourself to mature And superior to your past Then fall in love with another girl And bad for the other....

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Fruit that’s ripe is easily picked from a tree but things which are forbidden are not free. _____________________ ...

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In the infancy of spring, An apple orchard raid. The trees are bearing blossoms, Teeming with fruit; Some ripe ones on the ground. The gang, excited and well-prepared. Jimmy is up one tree Shaking the branches As apples fall every which way. Apples here, apples there, Apples everywhere! His friends get busy picking them up. There's more than enough To fill up all the buckets...

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Johnny walked the countryside, sowing apple seeds A healthy fruit, doctors say everyone has daily needs He succeeded in his mission across America's frontier Along his chosen path, apple trees would soon appear From early September until Autumn days of October these are known to be the best days for apple picking It's considered to be the peak of harvesting season before...

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Indulge in juicy strawberry stars let that sugar soften your tongue; The taste of Summer when it's cold you visualize the bright Moon of June; Let that sugar soften your tongue that lazy grin will warm you up; Frayed tank top replaces your hoodie; The taste of Summer when it's cold; Suddenly overheated and sweating happy taste buds steal the season; You...

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From time to time sets a bait, Her patience she makes sure wait; Over issues would she skate: In sweet words the tempting state And seek to mask thy sad fate! It is not spurious her bet; Her marked gift is a glass plate: Something surely at real stake; Time for you to right steps take, Kate's to-be-voiced favors fake! So, now it's clearly a...

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Reach up again, for things don't look As they seem, focus your sight From a higher place, for your true identity Is in the spirit realm. Grab hold in a new way, your spiritual gifts and callings Rejoice in the innermost being, we are crossing over Into our promises, into our advancement, Our barns are filling up, our healing is on the...

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A dog that is feeding on milk Won't go all days been fed by an ilk When situation makes him bilk Then the dog won't be as fine as a silk A ball at the back of the net is a goal Two balling on bed must have become a soul With the one that is in control Pleasurably drilling the hole Two...

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Rush of intense flavors Rally passions of taste ...

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At the ripe old age of three,                                            my small heart was breaking.                                          Blackie had...

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is it wicked of me, if i, buy a peach and it's too soft and ripe. If after these words it does, what you thought it would do and then it well, just might. And yes you know my fingers are more than, any thing they do and still you would have me, sigh. What if i pick the next one up, and...

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a mulberry tree under dark blue/purple skies birdsong on the wind red orb descending midst the hello and goodbye the wandering hours evening breeze caress sun lurks in shadows of night mulberries so ripe...

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Harvest The wisest men bear folly, their loins issue ...

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A day’s routine so easily holds me captive. I confess to mindless, museless departures, Brainless unpoetic habits so unreflective, That I cannot dwell in momentary textures. But January ripens oranges on my neighbor’s tree, Marking spring’s beginning in California. Midwestern groomed; such play awakens me. Fat, lush oranges tumble all over the area. Bold bright balls, they must be painted, Landing in my...

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The Ripe Olives and Red Wines of Florence David J Walker Austere is the way I remember The convent in Florence Perfectly white walls And the small single bed fronted By worn floors from daily kneeling in prayer A simple soup will be served At supper My native guide says Possiamo fare di meglio in città Either way there...

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