Clusters Of Grapes
as God nature creates complete
a bunch of grapes growing on vine
each grape an interlocked fold skin
of original envisioned composition
so too human architect craftsman
creates cultivates ideas to time define
each grape is picked complete from vine
each grape is perfect as singular complete
an orb idea formed vine ripe fertile complete
each grape is taste savoured relished eaten
peel me a grape of an idea complete eaten
slave starves creates each gilded grape given
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
The Life of a Grape
On the vine, the green fruit ripens,
Becoming fresh and well-rounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
In the sun, its sweet skin softens
On the branch where it's been bounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
The others grow fairly often.
Eventu'lly, it's surrounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
Then one day, away from the flocks,
It's plucked, dried, put into a box,
And such is the life of grape.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Grape, Grape Joy
I am a small and lonely grape,
Clutching to the vine,
Waiting for the day when Ill become my saviors wine!
Oh, wouldnt french cuisine just yearn it,
Ive eternity to ferment,
But knowing me Id end up ripple
In a cellar of cheblis.
Are you a small and lonely grape
Clutching to the vine,
Waiting for the day when youll become your saviors wine?
Dont give up hope ye heavy laden,
You dont want to be a raisin;
Theres a grape grape joy in jesus,
In the vineyard of the lord.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Grape
You're like a piece of sugar on the vine,
That's been resisted.
And sitting lusciously delicious,
Waiting to get plucked...
When time comes for the picking.
You're like a piece of sugar on the vine,
That's been resisted.
And sitting lusciously delicious,
Waiting to get plucked...
When time comes for the picking.
By someone patient,
Who sits wishing for you to lick.
You're like sugar on the vine,
Not ripe to lick.
You may be a nine in someone's mind.
But not quite ready to snip and pick.
Or slowly drip from someone's lips.
Red grape...
You're not quite ready to squeeze between teeth.
Red grape...
Your sweetness teases tongues among some.
And,
Red grape...
You look so ripe,
For an easy pick to lick!
You're like a piece of sugar on the vine,
That's been resisted.
And sitting lusciously delicious,
Waiting to get plucked...
When time comes for the picking.
But,
Red grape...
You're not quite ready to squeeze between teeth.
And,
Red grape...
You look so ripe,
For an easy pick to lick!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Days of Wine and Roses
A Tangerine sun glazed The Travis Vineyard
While the Deep Purple haze, just glowed
The aroma's from all of the picked grapes
Filled Napa's Colored-flavored show!
The Valley 'tis filled with a bounty
Of future vino's of varying kinds
Aged and then tingled to the palate
'Tis Ambrosia, most divine, from the vine!
The succulent grape and its splendour
Shines the California's-near-by coast
The valley, itself, 'Tis a purple Wonder
Growing the most primo for its hosts
Perhaps a wine tasting party?
Hmmmm, wonder, if The Gallo's might attend?
It will truly be a celebration
As the days of Wine, are just 'round the bend!
Oh, did i leave off, The Roses?
My mistake, Mon Amore.
The title would not be complete
As it was, in the days of yore!
Back when it was a Movie
Back when it was a romantic song
Back in the time of old actors (Jack Lemmon)
Back when the wine could do no wrong!
'The Days Of Wine And Roses'
It taps at my long ago memory
Taking me back to a time
When the grape was truly very new to me!
poem by Theodora Onken
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I Am More a Ripened Melon
Squeeze,
Easy sexy.
When assessing me.
I am more a ripened melon.
Than a young grape,
Dangling from a vine.
Squeeze me easy sexy.
Like an avacado you do appeal.
With two tomatos I could taste your hold.
To feel as if chipped in dipped guacamole.
Squeeze,
Easy sexy.
Gently and not to crush.
Think of me as lemonade,
You prefer to sip and not gulp to rush.
Squeeze,
Easy sexy.
When assessing me.
I am more a ripened melon.
Than a young grape,
Dangling from a vine.
You would rather see picked...
To mash quick into fine wine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Purple Grapes
Fresh purple grapes,
Dried raisin cakes
I love the seedless kind.
Grape fruit essence
The fruity, tasty kind.
Give it as presents,
I'll tell you I don't mind.
Grape fruit essence
As good as Merlot wine.
This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this time wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Water into wine
Once upon a time,
Jesus, who called himself the true vine,
turned water into wine
in an act of love.
All over the world, right now,
a million grape vines
are performing the same miracle
slowly; silently; aided by the sun;
their roots, like farmers, coal or diamond miners,
searching in the earth
for the most precious;
it doesn’t hit the headlines
but who dares say
a patient, silent, unsung love
is any less a miracle?
Who dares say that grape vines
do not seek and love
their beautiful perfection?
miracles, an act of love;
love, that miracle unearned –
what may we do to earn, to drink,
that wine of Love, but love?
*
[with a bow to Hafiz]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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From Grape To Wine
If you were to say I don’t exist
This grape would not argue
Longing to be wine
Makes me disreputable
Lowers self respect
A grape begins to become wine when it says
“Pressure is necessary to burst open”
Sweet wine flows from surrender
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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A Facial Expression Redefining the Meaning of Love
Love
Like a raisin
Dried in the sun,
Hardened by time,
Sweet to a choke.
The difference
Between a grape
And its transform:
Liquidity.
Rape the juice
From a ripe grape,
You get extract
In solid form.
Sun toughens life,
Dehydrates cells,
Leaves leaves lacking
Cracking color.
Wrinkles written
On a surface
Rough of desire,
Size down to daunt.
It once ago
Was, no longer
Is its old self,
Just a raisin:
A sweet re-treat!
How Come
how come, we don't even talk no more
And you din't even call no more
We don't barely keep in touch at all
And i don't even feel the same love on me
And i heard at the grape vine and me
With beef and now
And after all the years we been down
Ain't no messing around
This bull**** can't be true
Were family
That's never gonna change
Because of you.
song performed by by Eminem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home
This place I once called home is no longer my home,
I am better off alone,
I know that you don’t care about me,
When you come home I am already stoned,
All you do is scream at me,
All you do is hit me when I don’t listen,
This is not my home,
I think I am better off alone,
By the time I come home I know that your not home,
When you get the chance all you do grape at me,
No matter how hard I have tried,
You were never satisfied,
This house is not home,
This place I once loved,
Now hated by few,
All you do is scream, grape, and hit me,
All I want to do is cut and bleed,
Yell and cry out all my tears,
This place is not my home,
I think I am better off alone.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Passion Wine Heritage Inspired
soil grape vineyard
starlight
golden nectar
ambrosia
mountain wind
river valley
salient light
earth sky firmament
soil nutrients
soil soul embodiment
soil fingertips
blood flow wine
hunger allure
siren vine original
soil dry
struggle character
define vine
soul
essence
hungry
insight
instinct
awareness
hardship
struggle
enlightenment
nose smell aroma
colour clarity texture
elixir extraordinaire
taste palate tongue
roof inspires trace oak
season aged barrel
cooper creation artist
wooden ribs melody effect
fabric harmony stir ferment
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Feast
I drank at every vine.
The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
So wonderful as thirst.
I gnawed at every root.
I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
So wonderful as want.
Feed the grape and bean
To the vintner and monger:
I will lie down lean
With my thirst and my hunger.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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In the spirit of Rumi: 55: Patience
Patience
turns mulberry leaves into silk
through the silkworm
Patience
turns water into wine
through the grape vine
Patience
turns a man into a beloved teacher
through stillness
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I need thee...
Like the air I need to breath
The water that flows to meet the sea
I need thee
You complete me
Like the blood in my veins
And the Power of Christ's blood stains
I need thee
You complete me
Like the energy from the sun
The Cheetah's need to run
I need thee
You complete me
I have walked a thousand miles
Seen countless un-genuine smiles
I need thee
You complete me
I have heard so many lies
And created my own alibis
I need thee
You complete me
I have hidden from desperate eyes
Comforted by my lonely lullabies
I need thee
You complete me...
poem by Monciana Edmondson
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Love On The Vine
I came home yesterday
To the love that I left behind
It seems Ive been far away, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
I guess I just ran away (I just ran away)
Tried to see what I could not find (what I could not find)
Its been a one act play, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
And I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Ive been wasting time (wasting time)
With this old heart of mine (this old heart of mine)
Working it overtime, ah, ah, ah, ah
Just another blue day
Like the ones that I left behind
I know its easy to say, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Oh and I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
I love you on the vine, oh on the vine, ah
On the vine, oh on the vine ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Two For NPM
a prose poem
a rose stinks it smells like the thorn bush surrounding it the petals make perfume they call it attar and they sell it expansively in the stores they have a purple bottle eye purchased one for ewe in secret and she has it my love inside her heart so true this thorn is now her cause she loves me eye am special and one of a kind of a fellow that only she could love me like a lover satisfied the purple prose releases me like wine is called purple passion the grape of time tis of the essence smells like love is the glue is hard to shiff it gets me high on the hog the love is closer to the truth is better then the llie it fools no one is worried now for referances will be added the addition to the ell is longer then the house itself will never fall the freeway will expand contract and kill them all the drivers all the passengers take off the runaway beast is amuck us helter skelter the beatles bark the old cliches may seem atrocious is the amswers to the questors as they drink more sodden wine is the color of the grape on the vine is green is this prose poem in the money for the running water washes clean lucky ewe the end of story
poem by Charles Hice
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The Lemon's Quest
The whole of the fruit world were assembled
to hear what the lemon had to say.
In anticipation the fruit sat and trembled,
would it be the lemon’s day?
“Why can’t there be a sweet tasting lemon? ”
Said lemon in a tone of revolt.
To the fruit world this was open rebellion
and had to be brought to a halt.
The atmosphere turned sour towards lemon,
as he said, “This is not a lot to ask,
it’s a reasonable enough question,
and I’m sure not a major task.
I cannot understand your objections
about a fruit that wants to progress.
I’m open to all and any suggestions,
but until then I’ll sit and digress.”
The avocado replied to the question,
“The lemon is bitter and that is that! ”
“That’s an unfounded objection, ” said lemon.
“It maybe, ” said the Chairman, “but it is a matter of fact.”
The language was now strong and offensive,
as Chairman Plum called out for restraint,
“Order, fruit please, we must not be derisive.”
The tangerine looked likely to faint.
Chairman Plum summed up with a speech,
“This raises many questions for all nations, ”
he was then rudely interrupted by the peach,
“Just think about the complications? ”
A voice shouted from the back of the room,
it was grape with an answer to the problem,
“A sweet lemon must have its own bloom,
without it there will be no conclusion.
The answer is simply, graft and propagation,
a vine, with a lemon tree shoot.
It’s straight forward and without complication,
and should produce a sweet lemon fruit.”
The assembly calmed and became much quieter;
grape was thanked for his solution.
The outlook was now decidedly brighter,
bringing an end to the lemon’s resolution.
The lemon looked across at the chairman
and asked if there were any one with doubt.
The avocado said, “Yes, you give me indigestion, ”
“Out of order, ” said plum, “cut it out! ”
“All those in favour say aye, ” said plum.
“Then the ayes win the vote gentlemen.
We now await a fruitful outcome,
and this assembly is adjourned until then.”
One year later
On the grafted lemon tree a fruit appeared,
but the colour didn’t quite look right.
The lemon was fighting back his tears,
as the grape suggested more light.
Two weeks later
“What beauty of yellow and blue, ” said plum,
“It must be time to judge the taste, ” said grape.
“Why, it’s delicious and sweet; a job well done,
we must have a drink to celebrate.”
Three weeks later
At the next assembly, Lemon beamed with happiness
and announced the success of the new taste.
The avocado said, “I don’t wish to spoil your party,
but aren’t you celebrating in haste?
A lemon is a lemon and will be forever just a lemon,
a beautiful smelling fruit with a taste that's bitter!
I sincerely hope that you have learned your lesson,
a lemon no, but a new fruit that tastes much better.
So with this sweet new fruit I congratulate your success,
but lemon, please don’t try to be what you are not,
you’re famous for your aroma and countless other uses,
so be happy with what you’ve got.”
poem by Orlando Belo
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Vintage Purpose
Oh God, to worship Thee with praise;
I, but a mere grape from hallowed vine;
May your gift of poetry, flow through me as Christian;
Likened to a sweet vintage wedding wine?
Alas, but for a season amidst the cluster,
Amongst clusters of sweet notes raised;
Lyric this hour of sunshine luster;
A cup of blood crushed, to God's glory be praised!
poem by Gary Bitson
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