En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Strawberries

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

poem by Edwin Morgan
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Curly Locks

_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._

Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
The throb of my heart is in every line,
And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad
In its musical beat as the little Prince had!

Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine!--
O I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine
Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be
As a little pet blush in full blossom for me.

But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream,--
The red of my veins, and the white of my love,
And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof.

And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream
From a service of silver, with jewels agleam,--
At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise,
And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes!

_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine.--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Surprise in Japan - Our Rattling Plates

earthquake
teutonic plates rattle
our plates

earthquake
rattling our nerves
the plates on the shelf

softly rattling
to an earthquake
our plates on the shelf

ratting plates
our seismic
detector

rattling plates
oh it is the earthquake
bothering us again

Ring of Fire
every now and then
our plates rattle

rattling plates
a belief in fate keeps
my heart calm

rattling plates
i put my life in
the hands of god

Japan is on one of the most siesmic proned region of the world called ring of fire. In our apartment, every now and then, the plates we stack one over the other on the shelf would rattle. When the earthquake was
strong enough, they would jump off the shelf. It was a surprise to me at first when I heard our plates rattled every now and then especially at night.

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Today

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the an evening with john denver album, and has also been released on the country classics album. some versions of the first album do no
Tain this song.
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Ill be a dandy, and Ill be a rover
Youll know who I am by the songs that I sing
Ill feast at your table, Ill sleep in your clover
Who cares what the morrow shall bring
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
I cant be contented with yesterdays glory
I cant live on promises winter to spring
Today is my moment, now is my story
Ill laugh and Ill cry and Ill sing
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Words and music by randy sparks

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silver-Eye

Down among the strawberries,
Up among the plums,
Cheeping in the cherry-tree
When early autumn comes,
In our silver spectacles
And sober olive suits.
We're very, very innocent;
We wouldn't touch your fruits.

Well, maybe just a speckled one,
A windfall here and there.
But raid your precious strawberries?
Oh no, we wouldn't dare.
Behold our bland astonishment,
The charge is quite absurd!
It must have been a parrot
Or some other kind of bird.

It must have been a satin bird;
It must have been a crow.
It couldn't possibly be us;
We are so meek, you know,
With our silver spectacles.
The accusation's vile!
How can you deem us guilty
When we're whistling all the while?

Well, if you've caught us in the act
There's no more to be said.
The plums are blue and succulent,
The strawberries are red.
And who'd refuse a dainty dish
When early autumn comes?
Oh, write a rhyme about us, man,
And pay for all your plums.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Strawberries dipped in Chocolate;

Commotion on my tongue,
The delectable berries are young,
These berries are alone like a canyon,
They long for a candy-coated companion.

My eyes creep over to the kitchen counter-top,
As my jaw takes a deep drop,
A jar of luscious milk chocolates waiting for me,
And then I thought of a wonderful idea, strawberries dipped in
Chocolate served with tea!

I take out pure, creamy butter along with an effulgent, silver saucepan,
And pour some two-percent milk out of its can.
Then out of the Hershey’s, I take seven precise pieces,
And save the rest of the delicacies for my mamma’s nieces.

The chocolaty mixture bubbles like lava in a volcano,
As I try a spoonful the taste is bursting like a tornado,
I take one of the blood red berries,
And dip it in the mixture that is as heavenly as a bunch of cherries.

Commotion on my tongue,
The delectable berries aren’t young,
And as I pull out another berry from my pocket,
I realize that I have fallen in love with strawberries dipped in chocolate.

poem by Michelle Melnicky
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You Can't Just Leave It If It's Good

A sweet peach eaten down to the pit.
May keep that pit sitting,
In one's mouth a bit.

Like a hold...
Onto a taste one can't let go.
To show...
How something good can take control.

Dried pineapple slices and raw cashews too.
Can hook someone to snacking,
No matter the mood.

Like a hold...
Onto a taste one can't let go.
To show...
How something good can take control.

A nice banana smoothie with strawberries too.
Added with some orange juice and lemon to boost...
Is good.
Just to have it as a beverage,
Is good!
No matter the mood.

A sweet peach eaten down to the pit.
May keep that pit sitting,
In one's mouth a bit.
Dried pineapple slices and raw cashews too.
Can hook someone to snacking,
No matter the mood.

Like a hold...
Onto a taste one can't let go.
To show...
How something good can take control.

A nice banana smoothie with strawberries too.
Added with some orange juice and lemon to boost...
Like a hold...
Onto a taste one can't let go.
To show...
How something good can take control.
Like a hold...
Onto a taste one can't let go.
To show...
How something good can take control.

You can't just leave it if it's good!
Like a hold that has control.
You can't just leave it if it's good!
Like a hold that has control.
You can't just leave it if it's good!
Like a hold that has control.
You can't just leave it if it's good!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Summer Wine

I walked town on silver spurs that jingled too
A song that I had only sang to just a few
Ahe saw my silver spurs and set let pass the time and
I will give to you summer wine
Ohh-oh-oh summer wine
Strawberries cherries and angels kiss in spring
My summer wine is realy made from all this things
Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time
And I will give to you summer wine
Ohh-oh-oh summer wine
My eyes grew heavy and my lips they could not spek
I tried to get up but I couldnt find my feet
She reassutred me with an unfamilliar line
And thene she gives to me more summer wine
Ohh-oh-oh summer wine
Strawberries cherries and angels kiss in spring
My summer wine is realy made from all this things
Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time
And I will give to you summer wine
When I woke up the sun was shining in my eyes
My silver spurs were gone my head felt twice it size
And left me cravin for more summer wine
Ohh-oh-oh summer wine
Strawberries cherries and angels kiss in spring
My summer wine is realy made from all this things
Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time
And I will give to you summer wine

song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory Of Love Making

My back hurts,
I try to work in my knees
But those hurts too.

My shoulder stings
With each move
To work well what shall I fix?

My body, dear friend!
If let my heart to love you
My mind, could give you any strenght?

Over the ocean
And the seven seas
My soul I let to fly away

From up I watch and listen to myself:
-Love you so much my dear Earth,
Sweet strawberries:

Next year please
Do bring joy to many children
Bond them with nature's loving memory.

poem by Elena Sandu
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A Utilitarian View Of The Monitor's Fight

Plain be the phrase, yet apt the verse,
More ponderous than nimble;
For since grimed War here laid aside
His painted pomp, 'twould ill befit
Overmuch to ply
The rhyme's barbaric symbol.

Hail to victory without the gaud
Of glory; zeal that needs no fans
Of banners; plain mechanic power
Plied cogently in War now placed -
Where War belongs -
Among the trades and artisans.

Yet this was battle, and intense -
Beyond the strife of fleets heroic;
Deadlier, closer, calm 'mid storm;
No passion; all went on by crank.
Pivot, and screw,
And calculations of caloric.

Needless to dwell; the story's known.
The ringing of those plates on plates
Still ringeth round the world -
The clangor of the blacksmiths' fray.
The anvil-din
Resounds this message from the Fates:

War shall yet be, and to the end;
But war-paint shows the streaks of weather;
War yet shall be, but the warriors
Are now but operatives; War's made
Less grand than Peace,
And a singe runs through lace and feather.

poem by Herman Melville
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Butterfly Laughter

In the middle of our porridge plates
There was a blue butterfly painted
And each morning we tried who should reach the
butterfly first.
Then the Grandmother said: "Do not eat the poor
butterfly."
That made us laugh.
Always she said it and always it started us laughing.
It seemed such a sweet little joke.
I was certain that one fine morning
The butterfly would fly out of our plates,
Laughing the teeniest laugh in the world,
And perch on the Grandmother's lap.

poem by Katherine Mansfield
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The Chocolate Experience

The day I laid my eyes on you
the very first time
was tempted to try you,
mouth salivating,
a tongue could taste you from afar
Heard alot of things about it,
that chocolate experience, the taste
Even heard about the powers,
snaped me right out of a depression,
how it intimidated me, empowered me.
All these wonderful sensations.
I had no control over,
should I watch tv, pamper myself,
go out and wish I followed my first choice
for the moment, I would feel that way
I knew what it was like without you,
loneliness would set in
hard times, pms days, bad hair days, anytime of the day, any hour
You are my Sweet Sensation
a fondue for my strawberries
White Chocolate, Dark Chocolate,
Caramel, Taffy, Fudge, Chocolate Martini,
Expresso, Coffee, Lattte to name a few
Fill me with my heart's desire
Give me my chocolate experience
and see what else it can do?

poem by Adrienne Clark Strachn
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Now Is Past

_Now_ is past--the happy _now_
When we together roved
Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough
And Nature said we loved.
Winter's blast
The _now_ since then has crept between,
And left us both apart.
Winters that withered all the green
Have froze the beating heart.
Now is past.

_Now_ is past since last we met
Beneath the hazel bough;
Before the evening sun was set
Her shadow stretched below.
Autumn's blast
Has stained and blighted every bough;
Wild strawberries like her lips
Have left the mosses green below,
Her bloom's upon the hips.
Now is past.

_Now_ is past, is changed agen,
The woods and fields are painted new.
Wild strawberries which both gathered then,
None know now where they grew.
The skys oercast.
Wood strawberries faded from wood sides,
Green leaves have all turned yellow;
No Adelaide walks the wood rides,
True love has no bed-fellow.
Now is past.

poem by John Clare
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One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.

quote by Goethe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.

quote by Goethe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Spinning Plates

Why do we play these foolish games?
Only consolations
You feed me to the lions (??)
I didn't need at all (??)

And this just feels like spinning plates
I'm living in cloud cuckoo land
And this just feels like spinning plates
My body is floating down the muddy river

song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interlude

When I have baked white cakes
And grated green almonds to spread on them;
When I have picked the green crowns from the strawberries
And piled them, cone-pointed, in a blue and yellow platter;
When I have smoothed the seam of the linen I have been working;
What then?
To-morrow it will be the same:
Cakes and strawberries,
And needles in and out of cloth
If the sun is beautiful on bricks and pewter,
How much more beautiful is the moon,
Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree;
The moon
Wavering across a bed of tulips;
The moon,
Still,
Upon your face.
You shine, Beloved,
You and the moon.
But which is the reflection?
The clock is striking eleven.
I think, when we have shut and barred the door,
The night will be dark
Outside.

poem by Amy Lowell
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L'Art

Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.

poem by Ezra Pound
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L’Art

Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.

poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Summer Tastes

Summer has a taste
I guess they all do
But summer is worth mentioning

Its not just the strawberries
Or the salt of the surf

It’s the lawn

It’s the colours
Summer isn’t coy
It doesn’t have pretense
Spring lies
And autumn pretends

You cant hold the others

It makes you squint before you see it
And makes you over dressed

It swallows shadows

It makes you hold all things up to it
Then hide them from its light

It s the point that the others were leading to
Or the place they depart

It’s the drip at the side of your mouth

It colours, smells, and embraces
And looks like the smile
God would have before talking.

poem by Peet Thomas
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I Don't Recommend Sardines

I use to love my cabbage with potatos,
Buttered and baked.
And with fired pork chops!
Crispy too!
And that's what I ate.

Until I rediscovered,
A fresh salad with tomatos.
And...
With a slice of pound cake.
To me this was great.

But I don't recommend sardines,
For certain people.
Or acquiring a taste for rare steak...
Served to drip,
With a bleeding done on paper plates.

No...
I don't recommend sardines,
For certain people.
Or acquiring a taste for rare steak...
Served to drip,
With a bleeding done on paper plates.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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