Peach
Soft is the
Skin
Of the ripe peach,
So gently,
I will coarse
My
Innocent hands
Through
It's fine hair
Caressing
It's
Curving surface.
How
I wish for a bite.
Soft is the
Skin
Of the ripe peach.
Sweet it is
To savor.
In
My hand, I hold
It,
Waiting to
Treasure it's
Taste.
My tongue is teased.
How
I wish for a bite.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Related quotes
Heavy On the Congas
It's my kind of night.
In my kind of season.
Pleasing a teased and craved appetite.
This brings me joy.
With a thrill I employ.
Pass the half & half.
Pour just a bit of it,
In this drinking glass.
It's my cup of tea.
Sipped and yes...
It is quite tasty.
With soft and fresh croissants.
Baked.
Buttered.
And slightly flaky.
It's my kind of night.
In my kind of season,
I like.
I might not show the excitement.
Since I am delighting each bite.
How can I express 'scrumptious'?
When a rhythm thumps with a groove just right!
Heavy on the congas.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Heavy on the congas.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Bobba-doobah-doobah bup bup.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Bobba-doobah-doobah bup bup.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Bobba-doobah-doobah bup bup.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Heavy on the congas!
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Bobba-doobah-doobah bup bup.
I bite croissants,
And taste.
Beaucoup ooo aux mais oui!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Anna - the story of a love
The Indians say
that the eater is the eaten.
We caught each other's eye
across a crowded room...
she with her mates,
but blushed in my direction...
and when I looked at her,
she glowed
and I glowed.
She too was ripe for passion.
We couldn't be kept apart;
later in the privacy of my room
my lips sought her unsullied bloom,
the irresistible downiness of her young skin
and soon that soft skin
was moist with passion
as we consumed each other,
and were subsumed in unity.
Now I have died two deaths from love:
first consumed by desire, then
consumed by pleasure.
What a peach she was.
Hey, seize the moment -
there's another in the bowl.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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So Real
Run your fingers
Up my spine
Gently caressing
I feel fine
No, better than fine
soft and sexy
Your roaming hands
Exciting me
Turn me about as you will
Anything you do
I'll be pleased
Lips on my skin, this is new
A soft moan escapes
I want to do the same
Run my fingers through your hair
Feel my ignited flame
Reaching out
You move away
'Please don't go!
Come back! Stay! '
A cheeky smile
Across your face
'Sshh' you whisper
Let's keep a steady pace
Down you move
Your hand on my hips
Then suddenly I feel
My warmth and your lips
O sweet torture
What heavenly bliss
Please don't stop!
Never end this kiss!
But then you do
Caressing my leg
Further down you go
Please don't make me beg
Wait! Hold on!
I'm undressed? !
Is this what you did
With each caress?
Come back please
I'm starting to shiver
Your body over mine
Its the perfect cover
Where have you gone?
I can't feel your heat
Was is something I said?
Why won't our lips meet?
Tossing and turning
Moving around
Trying to feel for you
I can't hear a sound
why won't my eyes open
They're not covered
I need to see you -
Complete darkness, I'm shuttered!
Let's try again
One eye at a time
Just a peak
But what do I find
All alone tangled in sheets
It was just a dream!
Still fully clothed
I want to scream!
poem by scarlette Phoenix
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From Blossoms
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
poem by Li-Young Lee
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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 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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The Dessert
With the apples and the plums
Little Carolina comes,
At the time of the dessert she
Comes and drops her last new curtsy;
Graceful curtsy, practised o'er
In the nursery before.
What shall we compare her to?
The dessert itself will do.
Like preserves she's kept with care,
Like blanched almonds she is fair,
Soft as down on peach her hair,
And so soft, so smooth is each
Pretty cheek as that same peach,
Yet more like in hue to cherries;
Then her lips, the sweet strawberries,
Caroline herself shall try them
If they are not like when nigh them;
Her bright eyes are black as sloes,
But I think we've none of those
Common fruit here-and her chin
From a round point does begin,
Like the small end of a pear;
Whiter drapery she does wear
Than the frost on cake; and sweeter
Than the cake itself, and neater,
Though bedecked with emblems fine,
Is our little Caroline.
poem by Charles Lamb
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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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Doug's Peach
The Theory of Non-Exclusivity states that:
Always right exists in left
And likewise left in right.
I went outside and picked a peach,
the episcopalian of the four.
Parts were ripe and parts were wrong-
if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe'.
And if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe',
then 'ripe' is 'right' for sure.
I ate some right, then ate the wrong,
then ate what right was left:
thus proving, sure as Al's my brother,
that neither right nor left is
exclusive of the other.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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The Masterpiece
Within the passion of your kiss I feel your soft sweet lips,
I caress your skin so gently with my loving fingertips.
I hear your cries of mercy and it stirs my very soul,
Your body is soft putty, a masterpiece for me to mould.
Frantic grasping touches mixed with loving longing sounds,
Strokes of wanton desire wrapped in passion that surrounds.
Trembling with desire that flows through us feeding on our lust,
Content within our being, we embrace the one we trust.
Pressure from my hands as now I begin to play,
Tremours of desire rip right through us as we lay.
Your breath it is suspended as my tongue now travels far,
It gives such a sweet sensation and you shine now like a star.
We are lost within the moment as our bodies do compress,
An electrifying sensation, your skin pressing on my chest.
The wetness of your tongue feels the prescence of my heat,
Our bodies are on fire as the two of us do meet.
There is a desperate hunger that is fueling both our needs,
As two lovers come together both now desperate to feed.
Taking all my passion, wanting, feeling only me,
The joy it is transcended, we become what we can be.
I hear your longing whimpers, the smiling face of you I see,
Watching as you writhe below, you lock your gaze on me.
Clutching fingers tightly there's heat and passion in this room,
Your eyes can see right through me, in you I long to be comsumed.
Pounding hearts beat faster, beads of sweat begin to drop,
Lost within a moment that neither one of us can to stop.
I bite your lips as we kiss and pull upon your hair,
Our bodies move in rythm in the steamy humid air.
The moment is upon us cries of passion grip us now,
As within each thrusting motion we release not knowing how.
As we lay within each other we remember what has been,
We lay looking in each others eyes, the dream it was so keen.
Within the passion of your kiss, I felt your soft sweet lips,
I caressed your skin so gently with my loving fingertips.
I heard your cries of mercy and it stirred my very soul,
Your body was soft putty a masterpiece that I did mould...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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2econd Skin
Crawl me into your second skin
and teach me everything
(Second skin)
Through your eyes a voyeur
Through your veils of a visionaire
talk to me about those things
no other soul would care.
(Second skin)
Outcast all the colours that I still have
Camouflage me so I can fall and stand
somewhere between an underrated angel
and all those citizens marked with X-sex.
(Second skin)
Tissue apart and right to the heart
teach me the wonders of your moral blade
so I can stand still when you have to kill
all that was yours before and now has to fade away
Draw me the fine line between religion and crime
You are one more son of a God you can never be wrong
but aren't we all?
As we sit and wait
for the serpent to bite our very own tale
(As I sit and wait
for the serpent to bite my very own tale)
(Second skin)
song performed by by Moonspell from Sin/Pecado
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Substitute For What Is Present...
to view an apple in the internet
or climb an apple tree with many ripe apples
in cyberspace
they are nothing
compared to the ripe mango in my hands
to a virtual love that is described as true
love making vicarious
that is nothing compared to a kiss
that i planted on your
cheek of
peach
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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One Last Time
Just one last time
Before I go
Let me tell you much
I love you so
Just one last time
Will you hold my hand
As we walk down the beach
With our toes in the sand
Just one last time
Will you give me a kiss
Let me taste those sweet lips
I know I will miss
Just one last time
Let me gaze in your soul
Let me get lost in forever
Let me lose all control
Just one last time
Can I hold you so tight
All through the day
And all through the night
Just one last time
Let me feel your caress
Let me place your head
Upon my heart and my chest
Just one last time
Let me feel your gentle touch
For your skin on my skin
It gives me so much
Just one last time
Let us make love
Let us join as one
Be at peace like a dove
Just one last time
Let me smell your sweet breath
Let me caress your soft hair
Before I meet death
Just one last time
Before I go
Let me tell you much
I love you so
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Sweet Sour Apple Bites
Orchard of apple and variety
Here you come, the apples lover
Come sing and praise like always
'Shining around the skin
Your colour is my favorite apple
The fresh one
So is your taste'
Apples smile and sing
'If i am green
A sweet sour love
Bite one, bite two
Bite still
Taste me my apples lover
Taste my sweet sour love
I'm green and sour
Pluck me bite me my lover'
The hunter replies
Bite one and some
Tasted your sour love
Bite still because i am the apple lover'
Apples smile continue the song
'If i am red apple
Sweet and moist
Bite one, then two
Bite more
Taste my sweet life
I'm red and taste nice
Bite one bite some
Taste me sweet you will like it'
'Green or Red
Bite sweet or bite sour
I must love you my apples
simply because...
I am the true apple lover'
Explained hunter
Sweet red or sour green
Sugar rich energy will reach your heart sooner
Running in your blood and pump the beat so dear
'O apples my dear i grow you in orchard to be with me so near'
Confessed by gardener, before apple answered
'You work hard and love so sincere, will fruit you love every year'
Bite one, sweet or sour everyday
Promise keeps you away from doctor
Bite one Bite some Bite all say the lover
Energy, Protect you always said apple
If you love something, make it further
This is what apple and hunter tell you, No Fears
Credit to Ahmed Khaled to point some issues of apples
so what i can say here it was inspired by Ahmed Khaled and fair to say this is our collaboration. Took of the chance to dedicate this poem for Steve, Co founder of Apple...All his courage to chase his dream is what i really called as an apple lover...
Meaning of this poem,
I want to talk about 'Do what you want' choose what you like
It's not all about apples, it is about...if you have a dream (your future)
make it real either you taste it difficult or easy you will always enjoyed it
just like i tell you in the story, green or red, sweet or sour
the apple hunter/gardener still like it, why simple cause the hunter like it
..As you know what you like and nod for the challenge, you will
get satisfied with what are you having, doing...it's your favorite choice
..Include the words 'An apple a day keeps doctor away' hoping you
understand, you will safe and satisfy if you choose the path you like
and you will safe from regret..Chase your dream :) _Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Bite
BITE.
Maybe sharks glide in
the beatific blue sheet sea.
Unpredictable.
I clamber over saw-toothed
limestone, by crumbling cliffs.
RIVERBANK.
Soft skin flakes hang from twisted paperbarks over clear water.
Silt puffs and billows as circling writhing eels resolve into
a dark ray's fluted rims and a pale crab scoots to flimsy weed.
PASTEL.
Leaves, a far green haze,
aspiring flowering gums.
Sky-scaling Karris.
Peeling trunks reveal tints or
yellow, peach, brown and shell pink.
poem by Diane Hine
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You Ain't Got It Like a Psychic
You can't tell me what I'm thinking...
Until I tell you what that is!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
You can run around and tell folks,
What you think my business is!
But,
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
You can sneak across the floor.
And put your ear to the door.
Tell my neighbors and friends,
What I do and who for!
But,
Uh-uh,
You ain't got it like a psychic.
It's too bad your lips don't seal.
You need to hush 'em.
You need to keep them closed.
It's so sad you have a mind that reveals...
It's gonna crack!
It's ripe for that.
Waiting to set you back with a heart attack.
It's too bad your lips don't seal.
You need to hush 'em.
You need to keep them closed.
It's so sad you have a mind that reveals...
It's gonna crack!
It's ripe for that.
You can run around and tell folks,
What you think my business is!
But,
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
You can sneak across the floor.
And put your ear to the door.
But,
Uh-uh,
You ain't got it like a psychic.
It's too bad your lips don't seal.
You need to hush 'em.
You need to keep them closed.
It's so sad you have a mind that reveals...
It's gonna crack!
It's ripe for that,
With a heart attack!
You can't tell me what I'm thinking,
Until I tell you what that is!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
You may not like it.
My name ain't Mike,
And I'm 'bout to take a hike!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
If you were a psychic,
You would know where you can bite it!
Bite this!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
Bite this!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
Bite this!
Uh-uh...
You ain't got it like a psychic.
If you were a psychic,
You would know where you can bite it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Keep Me Comin
I know what youre like, youre not sleepin at night
I know youre losing control, I know your plans
Where youre keeping your hands, I know its taking its toll
Sweet little innocent girl, making your way in this world
Something youre feeling tonight tells you whats wrong and whats right
Chorus:
You gotta keep me comin (keep me comin), keep me comin (keep me comin)
You gotta keep me comin (keep me comin), keep me comin babe (keep me comin)
Hands on my shoulders now, youre getting bolder, your fears are slipping away
Each little bite lets me know that youre ripe, youre thinking maybe youll stay
Now that youre burning to know, how far youre willing to go
Now that its under your skin, now that youre lettin me in
Chorus repeats 2x
Ooh yeah, comin, comin
Ooh yeah, right here, right now
Chorus repeats out...
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Digital Photo Of The Ricefields
ripe ricefields early one morning
as i take my walk
it is a wide rectangular field
and on its tip on the right side
from this gravelled road
is an island of banana shrubs
bamboo grasses
and mahogany trees
and there is an old well there
that survives the past droughts
for scores of years
a little focusing will show
that there are bathers
there and one of them
is lovely.
Zoom in.
Never mind, she is too shy
and she is just for me.
Her eyes are soft
not like the almonds
her skin is smooth
like a ripe mango.
Zoom in.
She is bathing now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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