Short Camomile Poems
Short Camomile Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Camomile by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Camomile by length and keyword.
I once tried some camomile tea,
It was bland and tasted like pee.
‘Twas lapped up by the dog,
Who then snored like a hog.
From then on, was just beer for me.
Jack Horne for Francine's Beverage contest, 29th October
Delicate dewdrops of spring
Powder the sweet meadow of life.
Passion of wild flowers,
Blossoms of tulips and daffodils,
Haze of violets and camomile,
Charms of the rosemary,
All surround the pale horizon.
A vision of fragrant petals,
The water of life,
A portrait of the soul.
Aunt Judith was the only tea drinker in the family;
Camomile brewed from bags - no loose tea leaves for her to read -
her future was foretold at birth: heart defect and early death.
The wise doctors were sure she would not live much beyond thirty,
but with faith and determination she surprised us all -
Joyfully, she left this world at the ripe old age of fifty!
Virginal and silent,
unbroken by steps
that would turn
stones into shaken beats.
Alongside brewed growth,
soft layers of life
simple with worms,
nightcloth and grass song.
A stride away from the lights
of distant roads,
the air cold,
we are new under stars.
(This is the picture that
makes me stare holes
through thenight, you turn,
asleep in your bed,
a cocoon of linen and camomile)
my world is covered with pristine white, and I want to, go shopping,
the snowflakes are pretty, but the wind is causing, huge drifts,
oh, will stay put, to write my poetry, and drink camomile tea!
____________________________
October 15, 2019
Poetry/Sijo/snow versus poetry and tea
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1188-694-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the FFI Blog Series 29 - Sijo
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1
Grant me a peaceful afternoon
with hums alighting on nodding blooms,
butterfly wings and a soothing
lullaby whispered by washing
hanging on a line.
Let life be settled by a calm
with pleasant talk and camomile tea
and overhead, the soundless
drift of clouds across a placid sky
and leaves weaved in patterns
to print a cooling shade
upon a table set with scones,
cream and raspberry jam,
and above all,
birdsong sweet enough
to camouflage the sound
of screams and falling bombs.