Sugarcane Poems - Poems about Sugarcane

after bend off road gentle green is appearing soothing cane vast field...

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Monkey business “I say how about breakfast at The New Farmer’s” Our day of picking and consuming done no hunger induced nightmares, we rest dusk to dawn check on the young ones. Are we all here? tomorrow we return for another early breakfast at The New Farmers' it's sugar cane on the menu well done, defoliated by fire sweet smell of wild honey a hive...

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The lusciousness drips into my mouth,and how I wish I could engulf it forever It looks like the dirty rags of a beggar from outside, but it has the sweetest heart, you could ever imagine!! I can't believe it has taken me so many years to realize its true identity. If only I had been brave enough to try it...

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Sugar Cane Blues By Kevin L Fairbrother Sugar, Sugar it’s everywhere From Proserpine to Cairns The green fields of cane Are in your face all the time On the road I’m driving The cane swaying on both sides Radio blaring a Muslim invasion Who cares when there is sugar everywhere I’m feeling high with sugar on my mind But deep down I feel no shame I’m riding high...

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Watered and nurtured in a congregation of a large brotherhood the master is loving and caring never allowing harm befall us all or competition from green exploiters trouble us. Weeds are cleared and burnt Pests- fought back and eradicated, all these enjoyment and their corresponding blessings so unthinkable and unexplainable but real. Then comes another master with lips that can hallucinate the mind to...

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Sugarcane Butterflies Over the tarred road lies a land we seldom search of whispering winds through sugarcane hills, spills of sunlight chilled on butterfly wings carrying me graciously through the open space as my heart’s bass beats to the insects sound... the freedom of the hills is unbound, wild like the sunflower’s yellow to the sky trickled water marks over the dry...

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Rain is brewing; black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country. Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard. The smell of the pending shower is strong on September’s breath; the sun take a well-deserved break. Mango season is long gone, and bellies are tied up in knots. Naseberries; they accompanied the mangoes. Them guys from abroad, who...

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