memories hold sway
unburdened by silent hours
bringing back the day
ghosts with magical powers
lived through images which were ours
penny for your thoughts
as sunlight peaked though shade
we were casting lots
when we should have been afraid
what we had, subject to trade
reaching in the dark
for soft surrounding of you
moment turning stark
so next day, away I flew
love and longing both made true
standing on the beach
looking out to pale blue sky
past waiting world's reach
pretending was final lie
which left me as the bad guy
disturbed man crying
on cold foggy London day
why was I spying
"God Save the Queen" starts to play
not able to look away
ruby sangria
drunk glass after clinking glass
through no culpa mea
thinking through all which had passed
life moved along much too fast
frail phantoms circling
push the past into mind's sight
nothing worsening
ghostly visions our birthright
ghosts soon vanished into night
It was stated that her lips tasted like sangria
Well, that means her lips were sweet and gave an aroma of peace
As the wine hit our lips we feel an everlasting taste of our Mia
Is it fine like the others or is it only a fine piece
Being next to her as you are dancing to the slow rhythm of the blues!
Can you truly feel her heartbeat, can she feel your heartbeat?
Do you see that love is coming into the taste of the wine in your muse?
Do not take the taste of her lips as passion if you are not ready to dance to the beat!
Was her hair the color of the wine or was it too dark that the red and black coalesce
The lights were making your eyes and her eyes speak to one another in confusion
Or was it a passion that only your souls and spirits could comprehend, did it coalesce
Did you make your chance on the floor to the music or did your lips miss their intrusion
Kiss her deeply to show your love without words, drop your boards!
Don’t let the night be gone for the barriers you both have as you need to tear down those boards
To celebrate a special day,
I went out with my spouse,
Having dinner in a place we like
A few blocks from our house.
My drink of choice is beer
But they do not serve IPA’s*
So Sangria’s what I get,
Reminding me of college days.
For on weekends when we partied,
There would always be a bowl
Filled with cut-up fruit and Yago;**
Getting tipsy was the goal.
Though I drink now just with dinner
And it’s usually a brew,
At this restaurant, Sangria’s
What I sip and one will do.
Yet I think back rather fondly
Of my early drinking years,
When Sangria and tequila
Were what I drank with my peers.
*India Pale Ale
**a brand of Sangria
Sipping cold fruity sangria
Under a tilted parasol
In the warm balmy afternoon
Just soaking in the summer breeze
Here come my long awaited friends
How discreet time has slipped away
Telling tall tales of years gone by
Reviving names long forgotten
Rekindling places long torn down
While tunes play as from a jukebox
Resuscitating old feelings
Non stop jokes and belly laughter
Could not ask for truer allies
Gosh look, the afternoon’s over
Wonderful getting together
Love you all as my family
We girls need do this more often
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on April 24, 2018 for contest END APRIL PREMIERE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD
I bit the fruit
But didn't drink the Kool-Aid
Got drunk just the same
Scents mingle; phlox, lilac, jasmine etching June,
evening tingles neath shimmer of shooting star.
Aromas' rhythmic breathing below blond moon
held on breeze's ripple - please don’t go afar…
Dream's moonstone is reasoned in cream afternoon,
adularescent blue tones season memoir.
Days lazy, lost lulling red raspberry rhyme,
gaze hazy, mulling sangria summertime.
Susan Ashley
August 12, 2017
Kaleidoscope of a rainbow's hope,
realizations of grandiosity from a splendorous mount-
A looking glass for a peace, alas,
crystallization of beauty from an azure fount.
Sunset hues of yellow and white,
with a splash of Prussian in rain's delight-
Contrasts of the day and night
with a flash of a lover's fantasy sight.
Spectrum dreams, not as it seems,
continuous light shines with fervor's gleam-
A rift of a cliff of a twilit stream,
clashes with reverie’s majestic supreme.
I've seen the beauty held in
a rainbow's desire, as the rain ends with sangria fire-
Releasing all the glow acquired with the flow,
glistened tints of pink sapphire.
Palatial sprays in canary ways are believed to
shower life with nectar,
my medallion stays on my porch
these days, and receive nourishment from a
butterfly collector.
Chartreuse and cobalt
with a splash of honeyed hazel shimmer,
brings abstruse beauty with a flash
of lovely palatial glimmer.
Date Written: February 13, 2017
I loved it when in college,
Which is when I did imbibe it,
Though syrupy and fruity
Is how many would describe it.
At parties, in a punch bowl,
It was poured and filled with fruit -
Mostly oranges and apples,
Sometimes tangerines to boot.
Though nowadays it's rarely served
(Since things in vogue may pass),
There is a local restaurant
Where I enjoy a glass.
It brings me back to years ago
When life was how it was;
The memories and alcohol
Provide a pleasant buzz.
San Grail? Sangria?
From humblest manger beginnings,
He grew a wit to teach
the Temple’s teachers,
but in His age,
the sad reality...:
The world was rife with prophets and preachers.
He was a novelty, a prodigy --
received as well then as such are today --
childlike, unsettling ‘Od’ity and Upstart
Who crossed all class boundary.
Until He was grown,
this carpenter’s Son
won no followers,
had no fun or friends,
seemed consigned to the same oblivion
as other prophets who met quiet ends.
But His public career got launched just fine,
since His first miracle was making wine.
Sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
On a cold winter’s evening
In the backyard of my home
Shooting stars cross the sky
I’m amazed by every one
With a sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
Sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
My wife has retired to bed
And so has my little son
The alcohol and hot water recalls
My sins I can atone
With a sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
Sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
The jets massage my muscles
Wine relaxes my tired bones
I sit here thinking up rhyming words
For this silly song
With a sangria in the hot tub
Soaking all alone
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