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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Related quotes
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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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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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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Why Will You Gone with the Wind
Why will you gone with the wind?
Does it because you were attracted
by the peach street in that Tree City?
-it's like walking in the fragrant garden of sweet peach
when you read that historic city in a sunny spring morning.
But you should know there has walnut
besides chestnut street in this city of Brotherly Love,
-it's like walking in the golden heaven with sweet nut
when you read this lovely city in a beautiful autumn afternoon.
Gone with the wind?
The soft wind of the South
or the blue sky of the North,
Which one will be your favorite choice?
Gundi-?
Does it mean gone with the wind?
poem by by unknown author
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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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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Peach Tree
Under the old peach tree
Hearing the buzz of bees
Looking up at pink blossoms so sweet
Watching pink petals fall at my feet
Under the old peach tree almost fallen down
I can hear every sound as the sun goes down
I hear somewhere the song of a mocking bird
The sweetest song I ever heard
As I lean against the old peach tree
I think of things that used to be
This old tree brings me back to my childhood
And the many peaches I ate that were so good
Old peach tree I wish you could talk
Whisper to me some of your thoughts
But instead you fill my heart with your beauty
As I smell the perfume of your blossoms so fruity
I wonder how much longer you'll be here.
How much longer my heart you'll cheer
I hope to lean against you many a spring
And feel the peace that you bring.
poem by Grace Riffle
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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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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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To His Two Children
In the land of Wu the mulberry leaves are green,
And thrice the silkworms have gone to sleep.
In East Luh where my family stay,
I wonder who is sowing those fields of ours.
I cannot be back in time for the spring doings,
Yet I can help nothing, traveling on the river.
The south wind blowing wafts my homesick spirit
And carries it up to the front of our familiar tavern.
There I see a peach tree on the east side of the house
With thick leaves and branches waving in the blue mist.
It is the tree I planted before my parting three years ago.
The peach tree has grown now as tall as the tavern roof,
While I have wandered about without returning.
Ping-yang, my pretty daughter, I see you stand
By the peach tree and pluck a flowering branch.
You pluck the flowers, but I am not there
How your tears flow like a stream of water!
My little son, Po-chin, grown up to your sister's shoulders,
You come out with her under the peach tree,
But who is there to pat you on the back?
When I think of these things, my senses fail,
And a sharp pain cuts my heart every day.
Now I tear off a piece of white silk to write this letter,
And send it to you with my love a long way up the river.
Weed With Willie
She came through the front door lookin' fast as a big train
Bookin' down the line
And she was lookin' fine
Long and lean and dressed to kill
Stacked up high with perfect wheels
and there ain't no chance, that girl would ever dance with me
She got all those city boys pushin' and shovin'
A counrty boy like me don't ever get no uptown lovin'
She's Sweet, she's got 'em melting in her hand
Whoever gets a taste of that cup of sugar
Sure is a lucky man
She's sweet, tellin you boys
She's babelicious, I can't reach that Georgia peach
But she sure looks delicious
I had nothing else to do
So I threw down two more shots of booze
And it made me strong
I strapped my courage on
I said 'would you like a drink?
'By chance, no what I mean is would you like to dance with me?
Please.' in my best southern ease
It got hot on the dance floor when she whispered in my ear
'I think I found my county boy, let's get out of here.'
I said 'sweet'.
I'm melting in her hand
I feel like a spoon in a cup of blonde sugar
Y'all looking at the lucky man
I said 'sweet'
mmm boys she's babelicious
That Georgia peach is now in my reach
And don't she look delicious?
Look here now, she's sweet
I'm melting in her hand
I feel like a spoon in a cup of blonde sugar
Y'all looing at the lucky man
She's sweet, mmm boys she's babelicious
That Georgia peach is now in my reach
And don't she look delicious?
She's sweet.
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peach
Mamma gave us a single peach,
She shared it among seven;
Now you may think that unto each
But a small piece was given.
Yet though each share was very small,
We owned when it was eaten,
Being so little for us all
Did its fine flavour heighten.
The tear was in our parent's eye,
It seemed quite out of season;
When we asked wherefore she did cry,
She thus explained the reason:-
'The cause, my children, I may say,
Was joy, and not dejection;
The peach, which made you all so gay,
Gave rise to this reflection:
'It's many a mother's lot to share,
Seven hungry children viewing,
A morsel of the coarsest fare,
As I this peach was doing.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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The Ripest Peach
The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!
She looms aloft where every eye may see
The ripest peach is highest on the tree.
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!
I may not reach here from the orchard grass.
I drink the sunshine showered past her lips
As roses drain the dewdrop as it drips.
The ripest peach is highest on the tree,
And so mine eyes gaze upward eagerly.
Why -- why do I not turn away in wrath
And pluck some heart here hanging in my path? --
Love's lower boughs bend with them -- but, ah me!
The ripest peach is highest on the tree!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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This peach my teacher
This peach
that I’ve just eaten,
been graced by,
been blessed by,
been taught by,
been transformed by…
it’s as if some
Messenger of the Gods
had arrived, stopwatch in hand,
saying, everything holds in perfection
but a little moment -
as William Shakespeare noted:
so I’m going to arrange things so that
as the stopwatch ticks out
ten seconds to that moment,
you’ll reach out your hand to the fruitbowl,
take it, feel its yielding softness under velvet skin,
cut it carefully twice through the poles,
once equatorially… and as it falls apart,
spear one segment; eat…
this peach
was full of what even Rilke
could say no more than, peachness..
it was a living proof of Plato:
its perfection taught me
where essence meets experience,
where actuality meets the ideal of peach;
where a singular perfection speaks of
all perfections; where perfection
leaves from perfection, naught else but perfect…
how could such a perfect thing
have been invented by one
who does not love? Who is not love?
This peach is love itself, and I the worshipper
must needs make of myself a living God
to whom to kneel, to offer praise and gratitude
for all perfection known..
this peach my teacher.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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I asked a thief to steal me a peach...
I asked a thief to steal me a peach
He turned up his eyest
I ask'd a lithe lady to lie her down
Holy & meek she cries—
As soon as I went
An angel came.
He wink'd at the thief
And smild at the dame—
And without one word said
Had a peach from the tree
And still as a maid
Enjoy'd the lady.
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A peach is a peach
A peach is a peach
A plum is a plum
A kiss isnt a kiss without some tongue
So open you mouth
Close your eyes
And give your tongue some exercise
poem by Kimberly lilley
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The Beautiful Camellias
The camellias bloom in Winter when the skies are cold and gray
When the sun shines at it's weakest and the Spring seems far away
Each tree an individual by the shade of flowers they bear
An avenue of camellias of one shade of flowers more often than not rare.
In shades of pink and creams and reds the colours one might name
Each is an individual for no two look the same
The beautiful camellias resplendent in their flowers
They bloom in lawn and garden on Winter's coldest hours.
In late fall in Victoria in the Southern Hemisphere
The flower buds on camellia tell Winter days are near
And before the wattles come to bloom towards the end of July
The flowers on the camellia tree lose their petals and die.
The beautiful camellias bloom in the cold winter showers
And long before the southern spring they will have lost their flowers
And on June's coldest and wettest day great beauty I can see
A mass of pink flowers blooming on the green camellia tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Summon To Sleep
I SUMMON TO SLEEP
The flowers and the trees
I summon to sleep-
Lilacs, roses, almond-blossom, peach-
Play gently in my mind
And soothe me into dreams.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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