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Sweet vanilla kisses, amid an explosion of bubblegum sauce.
With lips now blue, we break and share a flake;
The chocolate melting in our mouths,
Like my heart, the first time I met you.
“You’ve got a bit on your nose," I say.
Laughing, you wipe it away elegantly.
Fresh strawberries planted in eager mouths,
Excited eyes blazing in the sun.
This love is intoxicating.
Sinking satisfyingly into a strawberry bliss,
Summer love is planted on the tongue.
Savouring: the taste, the moment,
savouring the one.
©️ Joshua Reece Wylie 2021
All rights reserved

A love poem with a summer-vibe.
Near a river blue and clear
Birds chirping is all I hear
Sitting on a grassy hill
Chicken cooking on the grill
My family is there
We all sit in a square
We share the food equally
And have the food peacefully
Then we have a treat
Which is really sweet
At the end of the day
We all drove away
~29/3/21
I decided to write something more lighthearted today ^-^
Grace Mar 26
I only write poems when I'm manic
I collect words when I panic
Gather them up in a picnic basket
To spread them all out before me
On a rainy afternoon
But I am inside, you see
Where the rain can't touch me

I spread out my words
Like peanut butter and jam
Putting them together all over again

But now the bread's soggy
And the jam too is watery
My eyes drip liquid glass
Reflecting every part of me
The mania has ceased
My energy deceased
Sadness now caresses me
Exhaustion slipped inside of me
I guess even inside
Somehow the rain found me
Man Jan 14
when there's post
who is it you hope
has written you?

when there's rain
do you feel it's in vain
if i asked to picnic with you?

i'd have to say
i'd like to stay
if only it's with you

open your window
i'm speaking to you now
if for anything, to let in some air

sure, it's chilly
but the birds sound so silly
when in the dead of winter
they sing
Michael R Burch May 2020
Picnic
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My friends laugh elsewhere on the beach
while I sit here, alone, counting the waves,
writing and rewriting your name in the sand ...



Confession
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your image overwhelmed my vision.
As the long nights passed, I became obsessed with your visage.
Then came the moment when I quietly placed my lips to your picture ...



Rain
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why shiver alone in the rain, maiden?
Embrace the one in whose warming love your body and mind would be drenched!
There are no rains higher than the rains of Love,
after which the bright rainbows of separation will glow with the mysteries of hues.



My Body's Moods
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long for the day when you'll be obsessed with me,
when, forgetting the world, you'll miss me with a passion
and stop complaining about my reticence!
Then I may forget all other transactions and liabilities
to realize my world in your arms,
letting my body's moods guide me.
In that moment beyond boundaries and limitations
as we defy the conventions of veil and turban,
let's try our luck and steal a taste of the forbidden fruit!



Moon
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All of us passengers,
we share the same fate.
And yet I'm alone here on earth,
and she alone there in the sky!



Vanity
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

His world is so simple, so very different from mine.
So distinct—his dreams and desires.
He speaks rarely.
This morning he wrote: "I saw some lovely flowers and thought of you."
Ha! I know my aging face is no orchid ...
but how I wish I could believe whatever he says, however momentarily!

Keywords/Tags: Perveen Shakir, Urdu, translation, Pakistan, love, passion, picnic, beach, vision, confession, rain, rainbow, hues, forbidden fruit, body, ***, orchid, mrburdu



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer
~~~underwater~~~
watching the shoreline blur
sees through his breath’s weightless bubbles ...
Both worlds grow obscure.

Published by ByLine, Mandrake Poetry Review, Poetically Speaking, E Mobius Pi, Underground Poets, Little Brown Poetry, Little Brown Poetry, Triplopia, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, PW Review, Neovictorian/Cochlea, Muse Apprentice Guild, Mindful of Poetry, Poetry on Demand, Poet’s Haven, Famous Poets and Poems, and Bewildering Stories
Simp May 2020
For most of this year I dreamed of a picnic in the spring
Maybe we’d get out of the car during our lunch break for a change
It’s a shame all I can do now is practice making the food I’d bring
It’s hopeless now but I hope you don’t find the idea too strange

Maybe we’d get out of the car during our lunch break for a change
We could have sat under a blooming cherry tree this week
It’s hopeless now but I hope you don’t find the idea too strange
It’s unfortunate how much our daily life has changed

We could have sat under a blooming cherry tree this week
That’s better than listening to the news go on about unemployment and ill fate
It’s unfortunate how much our daily life has changed
Now all people can do is wait in miles long food bank lines and hope they’re not too late

For most of this year I dreamed of a picnic in the spring
It’s a shame all I can do now is practice making the food I’d bring
That’s better than listening to the news go one about unemployment and ill fate
Now all people can do is wait in miles long food bank lines and hope they’re not too late
My mangled try at a pantoum
daffodil May 2020
Soft brown bread easily cut into
teeth seek out seeds to split
slight crunch of salad
green and still a little wet
brown spread of pickle
just a little, not too strong
save strength for the cheese
salty and satisfying, addictive
simple sandwich uncovering
memories of simple times
always sunny all the colours
seem brighter when I remember
family picnics games of rounders
wildly swinging the bat
I always missed
lounging on the green grass
gently placing crisps
with extreme precision between
the soft brown bread
Writing about a sandwich as part of an exercise from Writing Magazine. This was fun!
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