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Best Poems Written by Ingrid Collins

Below are the all-time best Ingrid Collins poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Making a Meal of It

Crudités, fresh, piled high and swaggering
From the market, bought this evening.
Thrusting carrots, earth still clinging,
Crisp cos, perky peppers, piquant roquette,
Rude red radishes, cucumber firm,
All in cool clear water washed,
Droplets sparkling on their surface.
Want to dip them in my hummus?

Temptresses teasing, to whet the appetite:
Oval curves unending, singing:
“Start with me”. Oeufs en cocotte,
Yellow yolked white winking coquettes,
Lovely lazy daisies, out of work, hors d’oeuvres,
Swoon to my eager spoon.

Taking a breath, your mouth’s alluring smile,
Eyes meet, hands connect,
Hot and cold shivers thrill.
An amuse-bouche:
Burning ginger flavours a cool sorbet.

How d’you like your steak, sir?
Rare, seared, visceral, red,
Caressed with oyster mushrooms wild,
Crushed peppercorns, randy brandy
Added accents to saucily seduce the palate,
Juliennes strewn prettily around the rim.

Velvet to the tongue,
Come, taste my peaches,
As moist flesh yields sweet warm juices
Merging flavours with wanton,
Whipped, drifting, dreamy, creamy domes.

Stimulation of the mocha and the mysore beans
Offering their perfume to enchant the air
As we sip, laugh, talk and glance,
Flirt, flirt and flirt.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Inca Maca

I, brave Inca, I take maca, leaf of life and source of strength.
When I travel I chew coca, takes me through my journey's length
But, when I need great advantage, maca fires my fierce intent;
To the warrior gives great courage; to his foe, a dread torment.
Maca, maca, woe to women caught betwixt their men and me:
Enemy, take flight!  The demon deep within the herb sets free
All my darkest raging passions, all my deep resentful ire,
All those buried aberrations. Objects of my dread desire,
Women were the spoils of battles; women had no right to moan:
Maca gave the Inca chattels, enemy girls just things to own.
Generals now forbid the taking of our aphrodisiac herb. 
Female slaves no more are quaking.  We our basest instincts curb.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Haiku: Grey, White Bird In Grey, White Sky

Seagull's silent flight,
Aerodynamics perfect,
Lifted by God's hand.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Swan Song

The shaman in Siberian snows,
Singing and dying
And flying;
The Gnostic in life creating lines
Of song, of death,
Learning to heart his poetry,
To sing
With his last breath;
Pythagorus’s sacred password verse
Easing his transition
To heaven
From earth;
All know the deep wisdom
Of the mystic swan
Who sings as her soul takes flight
Towards the Love,
Towards the Light.

By the power of song,
By lines of love,
By pure poetry and profound enchantment,
We embrace the joyful journey
To the world
Of Spirit

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Interlocking Rubáiyát. the Wonderful Wizard

Have you heard the story, "The Wizard Of Oz"?
A wonderful wizard they said that he was,
But all that he was, was a travelling man.
No hero, no magical guy, he had flaws.

However, he reckoned that, since time began,
We all needed miracles in our life's plan,
And so when four characters came to his place
He said, "Do these difficult tasks, if you can!"

They accomplished his missions with ease and with grace.
The wizard rewarded them all, face to face.
Each one wished for something they already had,
So their prizes were fun to award and embrace.

The Scarecrow, who thought that a brain he might add,
Was most intellectual, the cleverest lad.
The Tin Man, who was most compassionate of all,
Believed he had no heart, and that made him sad.

The lion, who thought that his courage was small,
Was the one who eventually won every brawl.
And Dorothy, wanting to get her home back
Knew there?s no place like it, with wisdom of Saul.

The wizard acknowledged their gifts (though a quack),
Then each one could recognize they did not lack
Their attributes, which were abundant inside,
And this gave them all a tremendous great craik.

So believe, when your light under bushels you hide,
And to gurus you turn, seeking some wise old guide,
Find your wisdom within and let that be your cause.
Or, like Dorothy, click those red heels side to side! 



craik, an Irish word, is pronounced "crack" and means a happy feeling.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

On a Detail In a François Boucher Painting

Poems ascend in luminous sapphire skies 
As prettily as any Boucher dove
In flight eternal.  The artist's strokes devise
Each beauteous form to represent great love.
How many shades of light, how many hues
Playfully linger on each feathery wing?
Such subtle shadows!  Gentle tones infuse
The senses, sweetly prompt the soul to sing.
Cherubs frolic, blissful, plump and pink,
Companions to each poem or lovely bird,
Painted in Master's oils, or pen and ink,
They celebrate that now their song is heard.
Once seen, once read, no one can rend asunder
These artefacts portraying Nature's wonder.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Parking Fine Valentine

Caution: 
Do not attempt to remove yourself.
You have incurred the penalty
Of my undying devotion.
My heart and soul are clamped to yours.
Removal could mean a huge fine.
You are so fine, I find.
Get your engine in gear
And accompany me.
Give me ideas above my station.
You have been found
Obstructing my peace of mind.
I may just tow you home,
Bumper to bumper,
And let you park your chassis
Really close to mine.
My fine
Valentine.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Eternal Sparrow

Two thousand years ago a tiny bird
Loved by a Roman beauty met his death.
Catullus, a poet, was by passion stirred
And penned light lines, as fresh as baby’s breath.
“She loved him more than her own eyes,” wrote he,
“For he was gentle.” Furthermore he told
Of their affection pure that held the key
To sacred love, precious to her as gold.
That sparrow and his mistress live anew,
In everlasting, perfect adoration.
Catullus told their tale. There’s no adieu
And their true bond still offers inspiration.
A poem can send echoes throughout time,
To touch our hearts today with love sublime.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Wind Voyager

So feather light is my soul today
That one kind breath of a word from you 
Sends me flurrying high with the breeze,
Carrying, extolling Creation's secret wisdom,
As the golden dandelion
Entrusts her children to the billowing,
Willow-swaying
Zephyrs.

I yield to the wonder of the warm wind’s caress,
My love pirouetting toward you,
Inexorably
Supporting my heart’s glad intention
To grow tall,
Strong;
To thrive within your rich, 
Welcoming, earthy
Abundance.

Details | Ingrid Collins Poem

Beyond, Behind, Before, Above

Beyond the bright’ning stars, further than moon
And planets, is the Universal Mind;
Behind manifestation there are strewn
Existence-cosmic templates, intertwined
Pattern on pattern, potential lives on lives,
Precursors sacred in Immortal Plan.
Before a thing exists, becomes and thrives, 
As thund’ring mountain, mighty ocean, man,
Before the tiny flower, worm or fly
Is made reality, there is The Thought, 
(Mystic vision through Creation's eye
‘Ere matter physical’s robustly wrought).
So much beyond, behind, before, above
All life, and I can gladly call it Love.