On Your Wedding Day
it was time for the cake and the wine
the usual ceremony
like all weddings in our place
where everyone gets invited on a grand party
and there you are on your white suit
polished hair, shiny locks, the wedding ring now in your finger
the silver knife was handed
and you slice the chocolaty wedding cake with white icing laces
and some roses and tiny leaves
you sliced a big chunk and with a plate and fork
you handed it to her mouth
she was confused how to swallow such a big chunk
but she managed just the same
to take it
she did not ask you to divide it into smaller pieces
but how she wished
you were kind enough to do it for her
then the wine
the cork was too tight and then it was opened
your again poured much
more than half the glass and your arms entwined
you hand her
and she was obliged to drink that much
she whispered
it was too sweet and she did not like it
she wanted the usual wine
sour and sweet and a little bit bitter
and then yes the doves
you were not gentle in taking them out from the cage
held them too tight
and without taking any cue from her
you released your dove ahead adn she was again confused
and even slighted
a big chunk, a very sweet wine, doves that did not fly together
it was not just me who noticed it, some people who saw
what happened did not talk about it
now, the town is making a guess
whether you marriage will last
whether the pattern in your broken family shall not be repeated
your brother, your dad, your sister
they now live separately from his wife, from your mother, from her husband
but who knows, you will be the last to stand up
the last of the mohicans, the movie that you have not watched yet
but soon you will
because from there you must take your important cue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
An Invitation.
She invited Joey
to her apartment
on the second floor
and as she opened the door
her dog came
barking along the hall
Shut up Bonaparte
she said
Go away
and the mutt walked back
with its tail
between its legs
to its basket
under the table
and she ushered Joey in
and closed the door behind her
and said
What would you like to drink?
tea coffee coke beer?
Coke will be fine
he said
and she told him
to go sit in the lounge
and once he sat down
he looked around the room
and on the small table
by the sofa where he sat
was a photograph of her
and her husband
taken on their wedding day
she dressed in white
and smiling
and he in a black suit
like a hit man
in a mobster movie
and she came in
with his coke
and set it on the table
by the sofa
and then went out again
swaying her behind
which made him smile
then she was back
with a tall glass
of white wine
and she set it down
on the table beside him
and sat down
and began talking
about the night
he had met her
and her husband
in the bar in town
and how she had invited
him over to meet her husband
and he had bought them
both a drink
and while her husband
talked to his friend
she had flirted with him
and made him laugh
and how after that
they'd all meet
on Friday evenings
in the same bar
and her husband
had invited him
to their place
to play chess
and he remembered
how he used to play chess
holding off letting
her husband win
so he could stay longer
and see her more often
and then she leaned over
to get her drink
and she put one hand
on his thigh
and reached over
for her wine
and he smelt her scent
and the brush of her hair
as she leaned over him
and having her glass
she leaned back
her hand still resting
on his thigh
and that look of mischief
burning in her eye.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Wedding At Sylvia's
she says she likes it here
fresh air, outdoor, one can see the grass and trees
and then the bride and groom finally arrive
as the guests wait in excitement
perhaps just like everyone else one thinks
if ever happiness can be contained in the limited spaces of the heart
they all have a nice set of teeth she quips
too young to be happy the other woman cannot hide her envy
the white doves are released from their golden cage
and there is that usual sharing of the cake and drinking of the wine
life and time dance and the whole event is fast enough
our grasp lets go of some memories that we want to recall
the wedding is over and people start to leave the place
the table covers are left with stains and empty glasses
always we do not have ample time
always we fall short of what we really need to say.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Little Talk About A Wedding
my wife has this to say
on your wedding day, that i must not speak
about statistics
majority of which
marriages are shattered
how the man has not coped up
with the heavy responsibilities
how the woman cannot accept
the hidden facts
and so i will speak of bliss
of sweet honey and wine
of the miracle at Cana
and everything so divine
my wife is happy now
having looked at the icing of the cake
licked the rosy part
and swallowed the cherry
on her drink
on the other hand she is right
optimism is still the right trait
to keep a marriage bond intact
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chocolate Cake
I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a boy
I loved it even more.
Sometimes we used to have it for tea
and Mum used to say,
'If there's any left over
you can have it to take to school
tomorrow to have at playtime.'
And the next day I would take it to school
wrapped up in tin foil
open it up at playtime
and sit in the corner of the playground
eating it,
you know how the icing on top
is all shiny and it cracks as you
bite into it,
and there's that other kind of icing in
the middle
and it sticks to your hands and you
can lick your fingers
and lick your lips
oh it's lovely.
yeah.
Anyway,
once we had this chocolate cake for tea
and later I went to bed
but while I was in bed
I found myself waking up
licking my lips
and smiling.
I woke up proper.
'The chocolate cake.'
It was the first thing
1 thought of.
I could almost see it
so I thought,
what if I go downstairs
and have a little nibble, yeah?
It was all dark
everyone was in bed
so it must have been really late
but I got out of bed,
crept out of the door
there's always a creaky floorboard, isn't there?
Past Mum and Dad's room,
careful not to tread on bits of broken toys
or bits of Lego
you know what it's like treading on Lego
with your bare feet,
yowwww
shhhhhhh
downstairs
into the kitchen
open the cupboard
and there it is
all shining.
So I take it out of the cupboard
put it on the table
and I see that
there's a few crumbs lying about on the plate,
so I lick my finger and run my finger all over the crumbs
scooping them up
and put them into my mouth.
oooooooommmmmmmmm
nice.
Then
I look again
and on one side where it's been cut,
it's all crumbly.
So I take a knife
I think I'll just tidy that up a bit,
cut off the crumbly bits
scoop them all up
and into the mouth
oooooommm mmmm
nice.
Look at the cake again.
That looks a bit funny now,
one side doesn't match the other
I'll just even it up a bit, eh?
Take the knife
and slice.
This time the knife makes a little cracky noise
as it goes through that hard icing on top.
A whole slice this time,
into the mouth.
Oh the icing on top
and the icing in the middle
ohhhhhh oooo mmmmmm.
But now
I can't stop myself
Knife -
1 just take any old slice at it
and I've got this great big chunk
and I'm cramming it in
what a greedy pig
but it's so nice,
and there's another
and another and I'm squealing and I'm smacking my lips
and I'm stuffing myself with it
and
before I know
I've eaten the lot.
The whole lot.
I look at the plate.
It's all gone.
Oh no
they're bound to notice, aren't they,
a whole chocolate cake doesn't just disappear
does it?
What shall 1 do?
I know. I'll wash the plate up,
and the knife
and put them away and maybe no one
will notice, eh?
So I do that
and creep creep creep
back to bed
into bed
doze off
licking my lips
with a lovely feeling in my belly.
Mmmmrnmmmmm.
In the morning I get up,
downstairs,
have breakfast,
Mum's saying,
'Have you got your dinner money?'
and I say,
'Yes.'
'And don't forget to take some chocolate cake with you.'
I stopped breathing.
'What's the matter,' she says,
'you normally jump at chocolate cake?'
I'm still not breathing,
and she's looking at me very closely now.
She's looking at me just below my mouth.
'What's that?' she says.
'What's what?' I say.
'What's that there?'
'Where?'
'There,' she says, pointing at my chin.
'I don't know,' I say.
'It looks like chocolate,' she says.
'It's not chocolate is it?'
No answer.
'Is it?'
'I don't know.'
She goes to the cupboard
looks in, up, top, middle, bottom,
turns back to me.
'It's gone.
It's gone.
You haven't eaten it, have you?'
'I don't know.'
'You don't know. You don't know if you've eaten a whole
chocolate cake or not?
When? When did you eat it?'
So I told her,
and she said
well what could she say?
'That's the last time I give you any cake to take
to school.
Now go. Get out
no wait
not before you've washed your dirty sticky face.'
I went upstairs
looked in the mirror
and there it was,
just below my mouth,
a chocolate smudge.
The give-away.
Maybe she'll forget about it by next week.
poem by Michael Rosen
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He opened up the tent where I was actually literally bent over a chair getting my crack touched up and I turned around and said, 'don't come in here Bryan, you don't need to be seeing this!' and he said, 'ooh, you need some white wine.' He handed me a glass of wine.
quote by Rebecca Romijn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Wine
Sweet wine
Lets feast and dine
Sweet wine
Tickle my taste buds
Sweet wine
Sharpen my senses
Make them finer than fine
Sweet wine
Red and white stay in line
Till I give you the sign
That you are mine
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Rosemarys Wine
Written by neil diamond
And her eyes
Hurt the way they do
Almost like theyd seen
Almost like they knew
And her words
Soft as they could be
Tied me to her soul
And couldnt set me free
And the night
That held us in its arms
It held us once again
But even then
I knew this time
That I would decline
Sweet rosemarys wine
Lately i
Seem to be inclined
More to being cold
Less to being kind
And I suppose
That Ive been less than true
Being what I am
What was I to do?
So I drink
The sweetness of her soul
And drink it once again
But even then
I guess Id known
That I would decline
Sweet rosemarys wine
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Fine Day In Heaven
You are the wine
you are the dove
and you are the wedding ring
sparkling with love.
Tomorrow we'll meet
and float on the lake.
We'll gather red roses
as Burns' prose discloses.
How romantic the hours
up in heaven above.
Then we will shine
in the name of true love,
hearing the organ play
'For The Wings of a Dove'
Mendelssohn reigns
Up in heaven above.
You are the wine
you are the dove
and you are the wedding ring
sparkling with love.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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You Could Have Been A Lady
(errol brown/anthony wilson)
Published by us music & media - ascap
Could have been alright, could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
I could have been alright, I could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
They all need you, to make love to
When you awake, you find them on the bed, lyin beside you
They all love you, youre a good girl
And I aint surprised, when you realize, just where youre goin to
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
If I told you, where youre goin to
Youd laugh in my face, say Im out of place, mind your business
And they all want you, to make love to
Its ashame, the fate of the game, the way it delights you
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Someone Like My Niece
at the party i chance to sit next to her
on a white covered sofa
we are so careful not to stain it
watching the food that we fork
the orange juice that we drink from a shiny glass
no drops please
her mother warns, she's is my sister
too concerned about her furniture
she likes her hair long and falling
like herself i suppose falling into a
certain despair, her mother, unable to
accept, she pretends she is more concerned
about the fate of her new rosewood
furniture
' i do not like myself' she whispers to
her glass half filled with tequila,
she sets aside the orange juice
too mild, she quips,
' i like to run away from her' she
insists, telling me that no one understands her here
that this house is full of indifferent people
i fix my gaze at the TV pretending i am not interested.
there is this soap opera about a mom who just lost
her son to a war somewhere in Jolo.
how can a mother's love be so misunderstood?
the mother knows how to pretend, and the daughter
drowns herself inside the bubbles of a glass wine
tequila, i am sure about that..
' i like the love story most. The brother takes his brother's girlfriend
and he punishes himself at the end. Tears and death.'
I am evading
her leading questions.
she's groggy. She leaves me and says she is sleepy. She goes to her
room and locks the door.
Then i tell myself, this world is fair. I am lucky not to have someone
like that niece. I am alone but not sad. Anyway,
the soap opera ends. Something new crops up tomorrow.
A twist of fate. But i will not watch anymore.I had enough.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Theres Nothing As Sweet As My Baby
(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby(g7)
(c)golden hair and (f)big blue eyes (g7)she could win a (c)beauty prize
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
(f)if I ever lose her Ill (c)lay me down and die
If (d7)sugar seems sweet then you ought to meet
My (g7)honey coated sweetie pie
(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
I like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sake
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby(g7)
(c)i feel like a (f)honey bee, (g7)when shes buzzing (c)round with me
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
Got (f)pounds of candy kisses, but (c)i cant spare an ounce
Shes (d7)sweeter than wine and brother shes mine
And (g7)thats the only thing that counts
(c)i like candy, (f)i like cake, (g7)i like jam but (c)goodness sakes
Theres (g7)nothin as sweet as my (c)baby
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Miracle (Bible Poems for Children)
The wedding party had begun,
Mary looked for Jesus, her
son.
They had ran out of wine,
The wedding party could not
dine.
She asked Jesus, solve this
somehow,
He simply said, my time is
not now.
His mothers face was all
gloom,
As he looked across the room.
Six empty jars in corner sat,
Jesus said. fetch me that.
Fill with water, bring to me,
New wine for the crowd to see.
The bride grooms father, first
to taste,
He told the crowd in haste.
The best wine I've ever had,
The bride groom was, no longer
sad.
The wedding party lasted all
night,
The bride and groom, smiled in
delight.
poem by Heather Burns
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Judith and a Wedding Day
You and Judith
sang in the choir
at the major's
daughter's wedding
and after
you walked along
to the house and gardens
where the reception
was being held
where there were marquees
for food of various kinds
and a huge beer tent
where there was champagne
and beer and wine
and soft drinks and lemonade
and she said
I will never have
a wedding like this
and she glanced around
at the marquees
and the people
in their fine clothes
and large hats
and waitresses walking
with trays of drink
maybe not
you said
taking two glasses
of champagne
from the tray
of a passing waitress
not with the money
my dad gets
from farm work
she added
taking the glass
you offered her
and sipping
and you watched her lips
and how they worked
the crystal glass
and her fingers
holding the stem
as if it were a gold gem
worth more
than her father earned
in a lifetime
but I can always pretend
she said
and placed her arm
under yours
and walked you forward
over the grass
we can always pretend
it's our wedding day
and these are our guests
and over the way
in the entrance
of one of the marquees
Hill stood with his
schoolgirl girlfriend Shirley
both supping the bubbly
him in his Sunday best
and she in a pink
and white dress
and her blonde hair
and stockings
and white shoes
and you said
would we invite Hill
and his girlfriend
or Tidy and his thick
caterpillar eyebrows?
she looked over at Hill
and pretty Shirley
and said
we have to be generous
when in love
and it's our wedding day
and she lay her head
on your shoulder
and you watched
the bride and groom
over by the main marquee
kissing and embracing
and the people
around them
were cheering
and as you both
moved on
she said
where shall we go
for our honeymoon?
the south of France
you said
somewhere warm
and glancing at the sky
it carried a promise
of a coming storm.
poem by Terry Collett
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I Licked The Wine
I licked the wine I licked sweet wine.
I licked chill wine off inflamed face.
I never left lingering incriminating;
any sticky dew rose red untasted trace.
I licked the wine; I licked full-blooded rose red wine.
I licked dew wine off dawn bud tender trembling lips.
I licked love undulating curves beneath vibrato hips;
in a song of time we dance summer ripe passions of vine.
I licked the wine; I licked sweet wine in memorial to time.
I licked chill wine off cherry sweet ripe youths luscious tits.
I licked while she swallowed tongue probing penetrating tips;
in love shines rebirth bright in festive season of harvest vine.
I licked the wine; I licked full-blooded rose red wine.
I licked while she screamed song orgasmic liquid joy.
I licked while white hot mouth savoured; new found wondrous toy;
in love we enshrine immortality posterity born in wedded love rhyme.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in March 1996 on the 26.3.1996.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Case Of You
A case of you
Just before our love got lost you said
I am as constant as a northern star
And I said, constant in the darkness
Wheres that at?
If you want me Ill be in the bar
On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue tv screen light
I drew a map of canada
Oh canada
And your face sketched on it twice
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
And I would still be on my feet
Oh Id still be on my feet
Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
Im frightened by the devil
And Im drawn to those ones that aint afraid
I remember that time that you told me, you said
Love is touching souls
Surely you touched mine
Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
And you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still Id be on my feet
And still be on my feet
I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said
Color go to him, stay with him if you can
Oh but be prepared to bleed
Oh but you are in my blood youre my holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter, bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you darling
Still Id be on my feet
Id still be on my feet
Mmmmmmm
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine Red
Wine red
Like rose petals against the snow
Wine red
Like crimson apple pierced with an arrow
Wine red
Like blood emitting from the skin
Wine red
Like her ruby lipstick used for sin
Wine red
The drink that lovers share
Wine red
A drink to forget a nightmare
Like Snow White fooled
She ate the poison apple;
A death of beauty
But their dirty and wicked sins
Will be recovered with an enthusiastic fury
poem by Verona Valentine
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All That's Left
All that’s left
Are two chairs
Empty wine glasses
And a slice of chocolate cake
Mosquitoes now swarm like memories
Over an unfinished dream
We were there
Two people
On two chairs
Wine and chocolate cake
It’s late now
Bamboo patches dark and dangerous
We left in laughter
Came in tears
Two people
Two glasses and chocolate cake
Our words like colours
On an empty canvass
poem by Wesley Gibbings
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Just A Taste Of Life
what i have in my hand
is a slice of pineapple
it is sweet
its sweetness lingers
in my tongue
and sticks to my brain
it is simply a slice
just a taste of this bigger life
ahead of us
i have another slice
to hand to you
take it
why waste some time
on bitter herbs
and sour grapes?
what i have is just a slice
of sweet pineapple
take it now
it is sweet
what do we have next?
we shall wait and see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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