A Promise
Peach buds swelling
a promise
of golden harvest.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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The Peach Farmer's Heart
I look up
and I climb
and I dropp the flowers
from the peach tree
one by one.
I'm sorry
my dear flowers
but I have to do this
'cause I'm hoping for
a golden harvest
and I need not
all of you
but some.
I look up
and I climb
and I dropp the flowers
from the peach tree
one by one.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Sexy Peach
You're a sexy peach.
Delicious on the eyes!
Igniting my taste buds...
To get close enough,
To eat as my treat!
Sexy peach...
I'd love to rub against your fuzziness.
And cuddle on the beach.
Sexy peach...
I wish to feel what now appeals,
And even lick the pit of it!
I'd like to bite every slice...
With the dripping of the nutrients done,
Provided by the succulent Sun.
And your fuzzy on my lips...
Inviting you to kiss,
That sweetness I can not resist.
Let's share it and strip away...
Those inhabitions exciting the addmission,
We both desire to pleasure and ride.
Sexy peach...
I'd love to rub against your fuzziness.
And cuddle on the beach.
Sexy peach...
I wish to feel what now appeals,
And even lick the pit of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Peach Tree On The Southern Wall
The peach tree on the southern wall
Has basked so long beneath the sun,
Her score of peaches great and small
Bloom rosy, every one.
A peach for brothers, one for each,
A peach for you and a peach for me;
But the biggest, rosiest, downiest peach
For Grandmamma with her tea.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spring Wind And The Peach Farmer In The Farm
Spring wind
why do you have to blow
so hard?
Are you angry with me?
Don't you want me
to remove the peach buds
from this peach tree?
Spring wind...
Okay, you win
I'm going home
I'll come back tomorrow
when your anger is gone.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Snap-Script - Harvest
Golden harvest,
Golden sun,
Silver sickle,
Harvest won.
poem by Mill Field
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To K.M.D.
In the buds, before they burst,
Leaves and flowers are moulded;
Closely pressed they lie at first,
Exquisitely folded.
Though no hope of change they felt,
Folded hard together,
Soon their sap begins to melt
In the warmer weather.
Till, when Life returns with Spring,
Through them softly stealing,
All their freshness forth they fling,
Hidden forms revealing. [606]
Who can fold those flowers again,
In the way he found them?
Or those spreading leaves restrain,
In the buds that bound them?
Trust me, Spring is very near,
All the buds are swelling;
All the glory of the year
In those buds is dwelling.
What the opened buds reveal
Tells us—Life is flowing;
What the buds, still shut, conceal,
We shall end in knowing.
Long I lingered in the bud
Doubting of the season,
Winter's cold had chilled my blood-—
I was ripe for treason.
Now no more I doubt or wait,
All my fears are vanished,
Summer’s coming, dear, though late,
Fogs and frosts are banished.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Peach Harvest
Peach Harvest
husband and wife
working together
helping each other
for so long now.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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The harvest
Some sowed seeds of cabage.
They got the leaves as harvest..
Some grafted buds of oleander.
They got flowers as harvest.
Some planted ginger for rhizome,
And some, cinnamon for bark.
So are banana grown for fruits,
And cardamom, for seeds.
Some plants for wood or shades.
Planting is not for only seeds.
Loving is not for only progeny.
It includes sights, pursuits, chats,
Romance, embraces and indulgence,
Recollections and remembrance.
Pining and sorrow are by-products.
Each is a piece of harvest of love.
03.07.2000.Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Little Peach
A little peach in the orchard grew,--
A little peach of emerald hue;
Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,
It grew.
One day, passing that orchard through,
That little peach dawned on the view
Of Johnny Jones and his sister Sue--
Them two.
Up at that peach a club they threw--
Down from the stem on which it grew
Fell that peach of emerald hue.
Mon Dieu!
John took a bite and Sue a chew,
And then the trouble began to brew,--
Trouble the doctor couldn't subdue.
Too true!
Under the turf where the daisies grew
They planted John and his sister Sue,
And their little souls to the angels flew,--
Boo hoo!
What of that peach of the emerald hue,
Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew?
Ah, well, its mission on earth is through.
Adieu!
1880.
poem by Eugene Field
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I Can't wait
Buds swelling
in the plum garden
oh, I can't wait
for the bloom.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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This Peach Is Pink With Such a Pink
This peach is pink with such a pink
As suits the peach divinely;
The cunning colour rarely spread
Fades to the yellow finely;
But where to spy the truest pink
Is in my Love's soft cheek, I think.
The snowdrop, child of windy March,
Doth glory in her whiteness;
Her golden neighbours, crocuses,
Unenvious praise her brightness!
But I do know where, out of sight,
My sweetheart keeps a warmer white.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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City Of Peach
Flowers, flowers
peach flowers everywhere
in the mountains and lowlands
of the city of peach.
How lucky I am
to see this beauty everyday
and that's because
I have not given up
I struggle to survive
the cold and lonely winter
of this city of peach.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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A brier rose whose buds yield fragrant harvest for the honey bee.
quote by Letitia Landon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla
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Soul-Drift
I LET my soul drift with the thistledown
Afloat upon the honeymooning breeze;
My thoughts about the swelling buds are blown,
Blown with the golden dust of flowering trees.
On fleeting gusts of desultory song,
I let my soul drift out into the Spring;
The Psyche flies and palpitates among
The palpitating creatures on the wing.
Go, happy Soul! run fluid in the wave,
Vibrate in light, escape thy natal curse;
Go forth no longer as my body-slave,
But as the heir of all the Universe.
Villa Borghese
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Peach Munching
harvesting peach
can't wait 'till breakfast
peach munching.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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One does a whole painting for one peach and people think just the opposite - that particular peach is but a detail.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank you for shining let there be your will
the golden leaves not all fallen down
the golden leaves of the beautiful sun
it's a beautiful day beautiful you see
it's beautiful day made for you and me
don't open your scrapbooks there's nothing inside
instead leaf me through I promise not to hide
anything from you or from myself
if I break a promise leave me on a shelf
for I could not ever be deceived
and I cannot loose what I never had
and I cannot give what I never received
this time I will let myself be led
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Peach Grove Next To Abbatoir
Next to an abbatoir
grows a peach grove.
The former has screams.
The latter is silent.
The slaughterhouse
stinks of blood and urine
and solid waste.
The peach grove is fragrant.
The slaughterhouse yields
a maximum 1000 pounds an acre of
food.
The peach grove yields in
trilevel agriculture four hundred
fifty thousand pounds an acre.
The slaughterhouse is labor
intensive and causes many worker
injuries and deaths.
The peach tree requires nothing
but a seed beneath dirt. The sun
and rain and mother earth
do the rest.
The slaughterhouse food causes
cancer, heart disease, food
poisoning, kidney failure, arthritis,
food poisoning fatalities.
The peach grove is God-designed.
poem by Saiom Shriver
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