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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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The Wine Of Love

We take a sip of the wine
that runs through our lives.
The wine of love most purest
that comes from the tenderest grapes
upon the vine.
We sip a little each day
praying it will never go away.
The wine of love
that runs through our lives each day.
Providing the vine doesn’t whither
our love will become fulfilled
with love forever after
our cup is empty and bare.

19 March 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Jesus, the Grape-Vine

“I am the Vine: You be its branch always.”
Jesus is succor and our nourishment;
Allow the sap to flow to bless your days;
There will be no defeat or punishment.

’Tis easy being branch with leaves and fruits;
We help the vine to grow luxuriously;
The starch that’s made makes sturdy trunk and roots;
The wine from grapes will soothe hearts curiously.

A broken branch will lose its life quite soon;
A leafless one is useless to the vine;
A fruitless one is bane and not a boon;
With God, we make our earthly days divine.

The vine is proud to make the best of wine;
With God’s will done, man’s soul looks rather fine!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diamonds In The Mine

The woman in blue, shes asking for revenge,
Man in white -- thats you -- says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
And the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
You say youre kind of restless now and its on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
He was eating up a lady where the lions and christians fight.
And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
(you tell them now)
Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
And the only man of energy, yes the revolutions pride,
He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
Oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
And there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine,
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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 Coronal

WITH HIS SONGS AND HER DAYS TO HIS LADY AND TO LOVE

Violets and leaves of vine,
Into a frail, fair wreath
We gather and entwine:
A wreath for Love to wear,
Fragrant as his own breath,
To crown his brow divine,
All day till night is near.
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.

Violets and leaves of vine
For Love that lives a day,
We gather and entwine.
All day till Love is dead,
Till eve falls, cold and gray,
These blossoms, yours and mine,
Love wears upon his head,
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.

Violets and leaves of vine,
For Love when poor Love dies
We gather and entwine.
This wreath that lives a day
Over his pale, cold eyes,
Kissed shut by Proserpine,
At set of sun we lay:
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.

poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Strawberry Wine

He was working through college on my grandpa's farm.
I was thirsting for knowledge and he had a car.
I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child.
One restless summer we found love growing wild.
On the banks of the river on a well beaten path.
It's funny how those memories they last.
Like strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.
I still remember when thirty was old.
And my biggest fear was September when he had to go.
A few cards and letters and one long distance call.
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall.
But year after year I come back to this place.
Just to remember the taste.
Of strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.
The fields have grown over now.
Years since they've seen the plow.
There's nothing time hasn't touched.
Is it really him or the loss of my innocence.
I've been missing so much.
Like strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.

song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vines of Love

Two hearts beating as one
Entwined like a vine
The many colours of love's curling ends
Rolling fingers on canvas
Like soft gentle flaps of butterfly wings
Toe curling sighs of delight
Eating juiciest fruit from the vine
Creeping crawling whatever the calling
Under the moon's light
Twirling curling consuming
Caressing with words
Touching souls
Vine steadied around pillars of stairway
Love shading the night

poem by Persian Khushi
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tin Cup Chalice

By: jimmy buffett
1974
I wanna back to the island
Where the shrimp boats tie up to the pilin
Gimme oysters and beer
For dinner every day of the year and Ill feel fine
Ill feel fine
Chorus:
I wanna be there
Wanna go back down and lie beside the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Yeah now, the sun goes slidin cross the water
Sailboats they go searchin for the breeze
Salt air it aint thin
It can stick right to your skin and make you feel fine
Makes you feel fine
Chorus:
I wanna be there
Wanna go back down and a get high by the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Yes and now you heard my strange proposal
So get that packard up and lets move
I wanna be there before the day
Tries to steal away and leave us behind
Ive made up my mind
Chorus:
And I wanna be there
I wanna go back down and die beside the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Coda:
Yeah with a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Again... to miss jane

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Vino Verities

Think of it as a thirst for Truth
That can’t be quenched by dry Vermouth.
Those souls who in the bottle find
a sauce of solace for troubled minds.

Because I can conceive of wine,
Somewhere there grows a fruitful vine.
Existence made certain by concept possible-
an essential premise Ontological.

From the grapes sweet nectar flows
To please the palate and charm the nose.
Its mysteries bring blurred speech and vision
At bottle’s bottom they find religion...

Some seek their Truth on distant peaks
From Fakirs dressed in linen sheets.
Some in bare ruined choirs dwell
With thoughts of Heaven spiced with Hell.

Still others have declared wine evil
An attitude I find Medieval
Their wine grapes meet a sadder fate
reduced to raisins on a plate.

From Vine to press, from field to glass
A boon companion to Life’s repast.
Red or White, no cause for Schism
A sommelier hears your catechism.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rebellious Vine

One day, the vine
That clomb on god’s own house
Cried, “I will not
grow

And, ‘I will
not
grow,’
And, I
will
not grow,’
And,
‘I
will not grow,’
So God leaned out his head,
And said:

‘You need
not
Then the vine
fluttered its leaves, and cried to all the winds:
‘Oh have I not permission from the Lord?
And may I not begin to cease to grow?’
But that wise God had pondered on the vine
Before he made it.
And all the while it laboured not to grow,
It grew; it grew;
And all the time God knew.

poem by Harold Monro
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A Black Rose

I gave you this Rose
so you can see
how deep is my love
in my heart for thee

It resonates black
but it's deep colored wine
this beautiful Rose, I gave you
entwined on a vine

I love you so much
but make no mistake
this pretty black Rose
can quickly break

For it is fragile, soft and sweet
it is caring and heartfelt deep

It's what lovers
wish they could find
a deep colored black Rose
entwined on a vine

Because this black Rose
has a fine line
It's how I feel for you
my love of all time.

Charlie Vergara
07.09.2009
23104

poem by White Tiger
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Vine Street

Take a left on vine street
Follow us round
Under the bridge
To the little taj mahal
Dont be late, dont hesitate
This is our time, this is our day
You blew my mind out so many times
Cain
Youre alive with love
Pick a little flower from the wayside
Offer it up on your knees
Prepare to give it all
Raise up a glass of bloody wine to your face
In the name of all within we cannot touch it or taste
Im so sick of the words that you cannot define me
All the laws of love say that you must find me
Cain
Youre alive with love
You blow my mind, yes you do
I parked the car (I parked the car)
We were there (we were there)
I followed you in
We ascended the stairs
Like the morning when you spent your night in a terrible dream
You crashed through my mind, woke me up
Like a scream, a scream, a scream!
(scream)
Im so sick of the words that you cannot define me, oh no
All the laws of love say that you must find, find me, yeah!
You blew my mind up, yeah!
You blew it up, blew it up, blew it up!
Youre alive with love
Cain
You blow my mind
Yes you do
Oh, yeah, yeah
Oh, yeah, yeah
Oh, yeah, yeah
Take a left on vine street
Follow us round
Under the bridge
To the little taj mahal

song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mysteries Remain

The mysteries remain,
I keep the same
cycle of seed-time
and of sun and rain;
Demeter in the grass,
I multiply,
renew and bless
Bacchus in the vine;
I hold the law,
I keep the mysteries true,
the first of these
to name the living, dead;
I am the wine and bread.
I keep the law,
I hold the mysteries true,
I am the vine,
the branches, you
and you.

poem by Hilda Doolittle
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Lessons Learned Over Time

Grapes ripe to pick and juicy when first licked,
Will always keep a taste sweet in one's mind.
As remembered lessons learned over time,
Are kept as one ages.
And the vine from which they were picked,
Remembered as if the only one to exist...
That committed an encouragement to nourish.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Soil Dry Define Vine

soil nutrients
soil soul embodiment
soil fingertips

blood flow wine
hunger allure
siren vine original

soil dry
struggle character
define vine

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Little Man (Fun Poem 8)

There is a little man who stands on a shelf
He stares all day at a creeping vine
One day he will come alive
Climb down the vine
And runaway
With the sunshine

poem by David Harris
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To Give Tomorrow Less Reason To Exist

So gone but with a going on,
Are those yesterdays living...
Within my mind.
To find and give time.

Clinging like grapes,
Yet to ripen on a vine.
Are those yesterdays remembered.
As if to forever live.

Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on and on permitted unresisted.
Like unripened grapes on a vine,
To watch and give more time to find.

So gone but with a going on,
Are those yesterdays living...
Within my mind.
To find and give time.

Clinging like grapes,
Yet to ripen on a vine.
Are those yesterdays remembered.
As if to forever live.

Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on unresisted.

Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on unresisted.

As those yesterdays cling on unresisted,
To give tomorrow less reason to exist.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the an evening with john denver album, and has also been released on the country classics album. some versions of the first album do no
Tain this song.
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Ill be a dandy, and Ill be a rover
Youll know who I am by the songs that I sing
Ill feast at your table, Ill sleep in your clover
Who cares what the morrow shall bring
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
I cant be contented with yesterdays glory
I cant live on promises winter to spring
Today is my moment, now is my story
Ill laugh and Ill cry and Ill sing
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
Words and music by randy sparks

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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