Short Barley Poems
Short Barley Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Barley by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Barley by length and keyword.
go, Hesekiah
i couldn't give a truckload
of bean barley soup
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
A spiced vegtable stew
A soused mackerel
Mint lamb shanks with barley
A nice slowed cooked rice
Provolone cheese
Chardonnay
Port!
Come quick, come quiet, come yet my dear. To the place and days where all you fear,
will be waiting for you on the moss of the old bark.
I don't know you
You don't know me
So why is this happening?
Why do I feel this way?
Why do you hurt me?
Why do I giggle?
If I barley know you
Why do I like you?
Form:
Little Teddy was so awfully thin
His poor legs were no wider than a pin
He ate six meals a day
Straw, barley, oats and hay
Indigestion made his stomach cave in
Elf man with the gnarly snarly barley face
With a bubble noise, can you take the pace?
Prancing and dancing this gnome-like race
We give you berth, and we give you grace.
Poor kid on my block by the name of Harley
Every day he ate bean soup with barley
He'd poop 'til he bled
The kid was half-dead
No wonder his back end was all gnarly
Like a patchwork quilt
Congregation of golden
Yellows and ochres
My entry into Brian's " Hymn Of Harvest " contest
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature4.php
Mamma said the Sphinx head was made from barley
Which Papa stole from the Mars harvest with Charlie
And if you look real close
Especially at the nose
It resembles a picture of Bob Marley
bounty of the earth
come ye thankful people come
for it is autumn
and the leaves are coming down
run run sweet John Barley Corn
Entry To
Kristin Reynolds
Autumn Tanka Contest
he had a life
within the life of ours
an imprint on eternity
his cuddles come
from angels now
or he’ll bark at them
relentlessly
for Barley, 7th November 2013 - 13th December 2023
Burly Farley Foley bought a field at Brawley,
On Southern California's sunny soil.
There, farmer Farley Foley grew a crop of barley,
And bought a boiler just to make the barley boil.
Form:
Mushroom soup for breakfast
Carrot soup for lunch
Noodle soup for dinner,
Onion soup for brunch!
Chow mein soup the next day
Broccoli soup – oh Boy
Barley soup – I’m feeling sick –
But Poetrysoup for joy!
high baub i growe Herb's vegatables and frutes
and i broom bier bakeing with yeat's yeastily
but barely have i begun to brave barley
feeld's freeeee two bark barley
strain naught but id like a good strein
of barley for groomien
The wind calls out to me
whispering my name
it plays with my hair
and the skirt on my dress
I watch as it dances
with the stalks of barley and grass
making a sea of golden wheat
a laugh rings through the gentle breeze
In front of the class
she obediently stands
her fingers locked in cradled hands
with downcast eyes and trembling lip
she leaks a tear that sears her soul
then meekly voiced
and barley heard
she mumbles what she thinks the teacher wants.
sweet tooth pig Charley Barley had cupcakes on her head.
tied into an oversized crystal goblet, full of sugarplums all red.
there were lollypops and m and m’s, so she would be well fed.
we followed her all over hoping she would drop a few my cousin said.
I realize that
poetry comes
from the vineyards
and grapes ...
That is why
I live so drunk
of poetry ...
Other poetry
are made of
hops
and barley ...
they always
captivate me
on sunny
mornings ..
Poetry is
noble drink ...
taste it
all
the days
I use to say I hear you
Now I say "What you say?
I use to say What's going on?
Now I say I Remember
I use to hear you LOUD and CLEAR
Now I can barley hear you at all
I use to say tha'ts what WE use to say
Now I ask the question is that what we use to SAY?
a little girl,
barley over six,
with a night light they,
have yet to fix,
keeps her tears,
locked up tight,
so her teddy bear,
won't see her fright,
she is brave,
for the toy,
telling him stories,
of sun filled joy,
if he looks,
into the dark,
he might see,
the monster's mark.
Shetland Isles
Above Barley,
Clouds Dance Enchantingly.
Flooding Glorious Hills In Jubilant Kaleidoscope.
Lending Motion, Natural Opulence,
Peacefully Quiet. Ranges Slumber Tranquilly,
Undisturbed. Vibrant. Wheat Xylan Yellow.
Zetland.
fresh Moonshine
hidden jars in barn
country road
~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~
sweet corn from the field
natural grain distillation
liquid vapor flows
~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~
mountain still brewing
transforming barley and rye
Appalachian!
~~~~~~~~~~~:::~~~~~~~~~~~
Raining in the fall,
it don't matter at all,
feels so good anyhow.
Smell of rain in the twilight,
brings my soul such delight,
out for a walk, how refreshing.
Rain drops falling on me,
coming down so hard, can barley see,
as I run into the house so drenched.
wrote 7-13-07
Sun rises from rest
with warming smile
from beneath velvet blanket
Lark leaves it's cosy nest
to herald a new dawn
ascending high into reborn sky
high over waving fields
of barley corn
On a new glorious precious
summers morn.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. Jan.
Colin Thiele 'UP COUNTRY PUB'
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