Syrup Poems - Poems about Syrup

...The sunshine turns to honey in the spring to drizzle golden syrup on the trees. In yellow sheen it blesses everything, so fuzzy bees brush pollen on their knees. The bees keep bumbling into blo......Read the rest...

...An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars, is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds , scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost, faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,......Read the rest...

...The smell of fresh baked cakes keeps floating in the air and daylight burst through the sky spilling coffee latte on the roof and I stood still inside and watch the cream drips slowly from the ceilin......Read the rest...

...we keep away from the racket street noise, huffing and puffing to whisper intimately, a lilt of catchy its weight of dandelions seeded an ebb and flow of what others thinly imagine to whisper ......Read the rest...

...Maybe it was that last biscuit layered with butter and jam or could it have been those sodas only around nine cans Never just one bucket of extra crispy southern fried chicken could make you feel ......Read the rest...

...Food glorious food Asia generic guy gastronomy (and how gourmet foods eat destructively clearly beyond any) excess enthusiasm, the necessity to feed and clothe this lean mean exercising machine gu......Read the rest...

... They would ripen all at once under a hot sun and hang in a sugary glut only for a day or two before starting to spoil. I had to be quick and when the time came, I hurried home from school......Read the rest...

...Indulging in coolness of syrup, Melting upon waffle so warm.......Read the rest...

... What if the moon disappeared when no one was looking at it? What if time worked differently for each of us? What if things you could touch were made out of ideas? What if a decision you made now......Read the rest...

...Barbie and Ken, Barbie and Ken, They’ve been an item since Christ-knows-when. He’s not Kenneth Connor, he’s not Kenneth Clarke Just Ken in the daylight and Ken after dark. Ken’s a rôle-mode......Read the rest...

... “Let my heart be still a moment and let this mystery explore” Edgar Allen Poe. Flutter dear heart Let this mystery start Of ......Read the rest...

...I heard my tongue scream YES!!!! YES!!!!! OH GAWD YES!! The fork trembled The knife hesitated The maple syrup Dripping lips quaked. Cage free egg yolks Filled the craters Of the unexplored ......Read the rest...

...February Mornings The house smells of cooked bacon wafting through the hallways flooding the taste buds with anticipation, toast browning in the warm red glow, coffee brewing in the pot, ......Read the rest...

... The door rings, I look up, someone with someone else, back to my eggs and hash browns. The door rings Spatulas knell the griddle. The skinny cook yells in Kentucky Yiddish. Flapjacks slap in......Read the rest...

... I fell in love with a Drunken Poet When with light My Grail He fills Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill With Rhymes and reasons salutations Filled so full, Colorful My i......Read the rest...