Syrupy Poems | Examples

Lakeside Chill on Winter Morn

The dank cold chill
stills the dawn 
to forlorn quietude,
as the day hopes 
in vain for
summer rays to
lift eyelids awake 
to a warm break of day.

Shorebirds huddle 
out of the shadows 
to catch the glimmer
of weak light rays
that trickle onto
the sand flats.

Syrupy waves ripple
the lake's surface
trying their best
to make the best of
the frigid situation,
with the scene
blanketed by the cold.

Yet the lakeside chill knows
its reign is short-lived,
with the lake's vignette
hanging-out 
for Spring's relieving
high-five touché touch
of warmth.

Pancaked

Perhaps, we will go out. Grandma will get
A break from making breakfast?
Not! But the kid likes Grandma’s hot
Cakes,
And I love this
Kid, in a syrupy kind of way.
Egads, I better get cooking, butter in the pan;
Deadly, this-kid-is-hungry-looks.

Is Pizza A Breakfast Food

Is pizza a breakfast food? Damn right it is!
It'll soon be on IHOP's menu
They'll have an item called “Pizza Benedict”
Topped with a sweet syrupy goo!

If you haven't tried it, don't go “eeeew”
It'll put hair on your chest for sure
You ladies will need a depilatory cream
For us guys, it'll add some allure

Bacon Temptation Omelette's a favourite
But when served on a pizza crust
It'll be one of IHOP's popular items
Pizza flavoured hash browns are a must

There's no accounting for people's tastes
Elsewhere, they must think we're nuts
Pizza is a real staple where we live
Probably why we have such big guts

Is pizza a breakfast food? Damn right it is!
The yummiest breakfast food going
With bacon and eggs and pizza sauce
My love for this dish is overflowing!

Manischewitz Wine

Every year for Passover,
There’s Manischewitz wine.
It’s Concord Grape and super sweet;
For holiday, it’s fine.

Some people will not drink it,
Since it’s syrupy and thick, 
But for Seders every year, it is
The only wine I’d pick.

Throughout the pre-meal reading,
There are times to fill your cup.
It’s expected that you’ve drained your glass
Four times before you sup.

I guess in ancient times they knew
Exactly where this led – 
Tipsy diners wouldn’t notice
Matzoh standing in for bread.

The stands of maize

Stepping into one hundred degrees of morning haze
Wanting the sun to burn it all down in a fiery raze
'Til all the corn stalks are set to a glowing blaze
Then, rains can come across the plains; turning it to a syrupy glaze
Oh, how I loved these humidity infused summer days
They take me back to youth waking early; to enjoy my plays
I missed the first half of my life; when time seemed to have these endless ways
For adulting means its time to teach my littles how to navigate the craze
Also, to savor the moments 'til their fate reaches this phase
Who knew parenting was just guiding mice through the stands of maize?

Lavender

Written: May 15, 2024 For Jay Narain Contest

                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer's sunshine tingles the lavender bloom.
It bestows an idyllic and aureate mood in the room.
A serene spa as fears vanish and peace beams.
A sumptuous sanctum and mellifluous dream.

Royal purple, orchid, with the silky grace of a lilac.
A rush of passion and altruism, and a smile to luck.
A panacea for a jaded soul, a cornucopia of peace.
A pleasing pastiche in which hurdles seek release.

Stench of lavender recalls an elixir, syrupy but real.
A dulcet wassail is charming luxurious, and ideal.
Amphorae filled with flower oil, ambrosian ariose.
An oasis of quietness bliss and no mood morose. 

 From soil to sun, sand to scent, appeal is copious.
A healing hum, gentle grasp, evoke in you Proteus
Lavender aroma bestows a lovely easing balm.
A whisper of coolness, a spirit devoid of harm.

Reflections

Back home, I ponder long on life.
Death is so final, no return.

I sit alone on my sheltered cosy porch,
And think of spring forget-me-nots,
Of roses dark as festive damask,
And swaying poppies red and gold.

Of summer figs and yellow gourds,
Of sweet delicious melons,
And mouth-watering peaches
Syrupy and luscious and juicy,
While sunsets turned to red
And moons shone on my love.

So I will not bid her goodbye.
Others may wail, lament and cry.
I shall live on, unattended
And relive the happy endless days,
The haunting lullabies of my love.

lyrical accessories

punctuation walks
on eggshells
when
words like
               water
                       falls
flow into nothingness,
soaked in syrupy syllables
behind veiled vowels

assonance is the twin of 
consonance as
         a e i o u
are an
unfinished bridge
without connection
of consonants
weaved together
in visible
unspoken actions
woven without words
just like rhythmic meter 
of thunder with lightning

like a lost refrain in a poem
assembled with enjambment 
metaphorical reflections of a
reflective metaphor portray a
m i r a g e less sincere than silence

value blossoms
when the body adopts
a gospel language
where speech
is unnecessary
unless expressed
through true
dialects of conduct
without the use of
lyrical accessories.

The Magic of Vanilla

The magic of vanilla stays with me, let’s explore.
Creamy rich dark and syrupy that smells like liquor
Eighty proof vodka and vanilla beans are needed
for crème de la crème vanilla extract
Who knew that in order to make Ice crème
ingredients must first be heated? 
An oddity, whipping away 
making it into buttercream
Color so pure and lily white       
Vanilla is misunderstood
I’m a little mixed up 
Aromas that bring me back 
to my childhood
Vanillin scent candle so calming 
Just add homemade vanilla
To anything is my conclusion
It’s a ventablack liquid 
Sorry for the confusion
All apologies

Tasting

Treacly sweet is the juice of summer berries, 
enervating me to anticipate it upon my lips.
Savoring the confection of melted chocolate 
is a delicious flavor to lick from my fingertips.

Intoxicating my palate, is a decadent wine.
Ripened grapes leave me in a euphoric state.
Bacchus would claim, "It's simply divine!"
To slake my thirst, I'd not choose to abate.

But there are other flavors, not so appealing...
salty tears that have coursed from my eyes
or the taste of goodbye from a lover's kiss.
Bitter is the sapidity of a soul's sorrowful cries.

After tasting pure honey of unmitigated love,
there can be no substitute for the syrupy mead.
When sipped from lips, once tenderly kissed,
the desire for more becomes an obsessive need.

Feeling Cranky In Summer

Why do I feel cranky in summer?
Everyone’s living, I'm not.
Burdened by cares, I can't set free
It's so darn hot!
It stifles the joys.
It forces me indoors.
The air is thick, it weighs me down.
My cheer is shortchanged, curtailed.
As summer days drag on and on,
The sun beats down, relentless, so strong,
The air is thick syrupy and heavy, 
Unlike my patience, which is worn down to thread-bare thin.
Tiny things annoy me, it's like I can't ever win.
The bees buzz around inside my head endlessly.
Mosquitoes buzz around my ears relentlessly,
I swing, I swat, I slap, I stomp my feet, cry. 
I'm spoiling for an impossible fight with an insect!
Which I know I can never win; why do I try?
In sweat-soaked clothes my temper flares!
When will this nightmare end?
It did, I had an ice-cream sundae with nuts!

Cough

The troublesome throaty explosion
For which demanded is handkerchief 
That helps to hinder hell’s diffusion
By the thoughtless simple man or chief…

The oft-followed by a dragged-out gob
The owner sends straight to nearby soil:
What had tried to chesty freedom rob
And a whole day for sufferer spoils…

A scurrying for antibiotics
Or soon, the chest shall be again heaved:
Haphazard gestures of semiotics, 
The jerkily thrown off guard retrieved…

The attacked with, first, expectorant: 
Syrupy stuff that keeps it at bay;
For cough’s accursed cause a search warrant,
In one’s airways delightful free way…

Cough’s innocent picture throat-clearing
Yet, muffle for a laughter rearing… 

Capsule of disguised danger warning
For one you wish to see, next morning…

Summer Night, Linger On Shore

The rocks were warm, hard, embers
of the summer day sun.
The air was calm, balmy, thick and syrupy.
The sea a mirror, shimmering with 
gentle sky sparkles and glints.
The girl entered the scene so serenely.
She removed her hat devotedly, 
to take it all in, 
lithely lingering on the shore.
She became a willing partner,
a participant in the
textural contrasts
of the scene with gentle
white dress caressing
over the rocks so gently.
Her demeanor and blank face expressed
the peacefulness, tranquility and solitude
of the scene,
so welcoming
and engrossing.

Soggy Seas

The seas today were not a short, sharp chop
but were syrupy soggy soft like black treacle, 
clinging to the hull like on a spoon, clutching and sticky.
Warily I sailed on, aware of the tenuous tug
and drag of deception in the compliant welcoming.
I, as an alien in the wetness of sea,
knew that the warm softness of the seas's clutch and cuddle
may belie a hidden tumult,
a change of face
on the whim 
of a mere breath
of wind.

The Power of Words

I lately wrote some poems to declare
my joy to be inhabiting this earth.
I found my words, if numerous or spare,
inadequate to capture living's worth.

I chose the rondeau and the triolet,                           
appealing forms to help me speak my heart
on love of life with clarity and wit
in phrases neither syrupy nor tart.

When efforts failed, I tried the villanelle
and then the kyrielle to help me say
how much I care for those with whom I dwell
and know I'm blessed to waken here each day.

   In striving to express the depths we feel,
   it's at the throne of language we must kneel.


May 19, 2023
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Contest Name: Sonnet

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