#maple
There was a Maple Leafs fan
Who knew they played as good as they can
The Maple Leafs cheer
There's always next year
Now. The players can work on their tan
Dec 30, 2025
Dec 30, 2025 at 6:17 PM UTC
Such an exquisite thing
To gaze with Loves longing
WithIn the Maples honey
Reynaldo Casison
Apr 9, 2025
Apr 9, 2025 at 12:37 AM UTC
The maple trees
Of Our loves honey
Lounges like candlelight
Through the midnights
Fine wine sips of moonlight
Reynaldo Casison
Apr 9, 2025
Apr 9, 2025 at 12:31 AM UTC
you’re maple syrup in my pocket
the aftermath of a sweet meal i knew
i shouldn’t have had
now you’re stuck all over my clothes
saccharine mistakes dribbling down my fingers
you’re maple syrup in my pocket
and everytime i try to wipe you away
you find another way to get in
and now my tears are sticky and sweet
oozing down my chin
dripping onto the linoleum floors
maple syrup on my shoes
i can’t escape you
a sticky footprint beneath me wherever i walk
day by day you consume me
piece by piece i am more
maple syrup than i am myself
who i was before i met you
before i devoured the sweet meal
i knew i should not have touched
however
i am being consumed by you yet you are being consumed by honey
and i suppose honey and you fit quite well
but i am just a wooden spoon you use then turn away from
but because you are maple syrup
and you are so sweet and lovely and golden
and ever so sticky
all your unwanted and used parts
cling to me
pieces of you forever lingering
in my pocket
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 10:30 PM UTC
Red leaves
fell silently
Under the maple tree
by the lake
Where we met
Last autumn
Late September;
When the maple leaves
turned crimson
you made me
blush just like
those scarlet leaves
That day ...
Autumn came early,
Why don't you,too...?
Winter's on the way
Are you, too?
Where are you...?
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 11:40 AM UTC
The moon has come out tonight—
full and brilliant, a hushed white.
I sip persimmon tea underneath
the Japanese maple tree.
Closing my eyes, the summer breeze
ripples through me.
The koi swim to and fro—
like red ticks on cement,
watch how they dance and go.
I think of years gone by,
the times that passed too slow—
those moments I wish I froze.
The tea is cooling between my wrinkled fingers.
Of memories gone past,
far too fast—
even,
my breath deems too long
to linger.
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 5:19 PM UTC
She never failed to mesmerize,
The poetry girl
With the rich maple eyes.
Her jungle of hair flourished on her head,
Contained by a green scrunchie
While the bangs on her forehead were spread.
A bite of the nails, a twist of the hair,
A brush of the bangs,
And her voice echoed like a call to prayer.
She goes to IHOP every weekend, knows the menu by heart,
Lives on pancakes and unlimited coffee,
Although she has been known to dabble with egg tarts.
She pulled her knees up to her chest,
Two Crocs, one green, one white,
Her gaze as stalwart as a tree in a forest.
When she spoke, her thoughts came out like trails of smoke,
Littering the room with her personality,
Those scraps of beauty as powerful as a thunderstroke.
She never failed to mesmerize,
The poetry girl
With the rich maple eyes.
Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
the night is syrup
stuck in unmoving maple
measured molasses
Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 11:53 PM UTC
Enjoying nature’s poetry,
written in vivid colors.
Each leaf speaks to me
in tints of red and gold.
Red leaves of the maple trees
share lovely memories.
A hopeful dream’s etched
on the golden leaves
of the ginkgo trees.
Trees of brilliant colors
softly humming in chorus.
The beauty of autumn,
the gathering of vibrant hues.
Nature’s imperfection and beauty,
Life and nature’s harmony,
Together, they work wonderfully.
Nature’s visible glories and life’s reality,
Us, our colors inside
as humans,
the mere reflection of our humanity.
What beauty it is to embrace
our magnificent colors within us!
There’s no vibrant
and luminous color,
other than forgiveness,
love, compassion
and kindness
deep within ourselves.
Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
She decorated
her pain and her misery
with red fallen leaves
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 10:53 AM UTC
life choices cast in iron skillets,
presented choices that possess no flexibility
twice, she asks me today
morning fruitage, on offer,
peaches ripe to rip real sweet perfection
from your eyes to the remembering salivating mouth,
or
sweet but just **** enough
strawberries that will wince your tongue buds
intolerant of either, but perfect together
acorn squash,
over roasted to be the violin section
to your barbecued chicken orchestra serenading,
but which shall be the sweetener,
honey or maple syrup,
similar but different
the kitchen floor explosive shakes,
pans to the floor fall, eyelet unhooked all,
spices from cabinets burst forth,
kitchen mittens slapping each other
in utter disbelief
when I reply,
let us choose both!
for there is no bifurcation,
no line of demarcation
on our taste buds
this a truthful -
our lives a perpetual blending,
both will login lead to a
the right and proper ending
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
We're loose associations.
Brutality queues the phrases.
Reality loses luster,
in fallow with boot to daisies .
Cowering and embracing
our trusted tomes,
honing a fruitless joke,
that only touches on tones that suit the layman
Famous and clueless faces.
Racing to rue the cadence.
Faking a sweet embrace,
for imminent tears, but grew impatient.
California coos
sooth impostor fits,
but it's a syndrome
fifty shades dense,
and way to thick to fit the staples.
In case you were getting wayward;
our guiding fables,
sentinels that they are,
will guard the stables
and bark orders,
pouring out the spirits
and clearing history,
with brazen logic.
Honestly,
I carved a broken heart,
instead of tapping the maple,
sue me.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
She's me
chat that
back her
stack as
eyes gleam
and conglomerate
of ceramic
taste that
steal the
heart away
for cause
of now
that mayn't
bring her
down to
this gloomy
bile of
pancakes grief
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
today
11/24/2018
threatening rain
check it and go
risk with puffy clouds everywhere
respecting Mother Earth
comes back
red tail hawk
shimmering leap side to side
floating in my way
me
bobbing and weaving
prediction of tranquility
bird of prey mirroring
duck here duck there
we’re in harmony
just a second
matters
lane carved by fall leaves
maple
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
The maple makes its glory complete
with such elegance and grace
halo shadow of crimson and gold at its feet
wet fall day a shimmering sacred space.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
a tree
I hank
here this
fallen arc
yet the
loop in
terry that
a singularity
present now
go to
New Mexico
and the
ennui divided
there with
scrambled eggs
and this
dark star
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
the fuzz to your hair
is too soft for its share
your bags, the creases of your eyes
are pink like rising skies
the freckles about your arm dance about my heart
they look like stars
your eyes are bright; they're fireflies
too beautiful to contain to jars
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple
the crease of your brow smiles with your face
not a single trace of a laugh line
but
you laugh like the ocean
first, your laugh is calm
but as it approaches the shore
it is sure to swallow me whole
your smirk, though half
makes me whole
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 4:14 PM UTC
Umber maple leaflets dwindle
Dance amongst my barren feet
Past the field of roses flourish
Roots entangle underneath
Rest my soil in golden hues and
Let them bloom in greatest pride
As the sunlight carries on and
Deftly strokes their thorny spines
And as the moon howls
The reaper sows and
Harvests many plants alike
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 7:53 AM UTC
I grabbed at my chest,
Wanting to rip out my lungs
as they suffocated my heart.
I originally thought you
poisoned my heart but
Maybe your
Apple pie
Maple syrup
Cinnamon
Fragrance
Corrupted my lungs and
Turned them evil.
They squeeze together and
Dis-form themselves just to hurt
My heart.
I cant breath when I think of you,
No, not in a good way.
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
Crimson leaves were being
Shy, soon would die falling
For you.
I was so sure
You were somewhere between
Yellowish grass, gloomy clouds
Old traffic lights, Rusty road signs
The wind smelled
The scent of autumn,
Brought you from the sky
Upstairs, waving
And me, smiling
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
Day breaks on Doubletop Mountain, shadowing villages below.
Three-thousand eight hundred feet tall, it captures the eye!
And standing at attention there in front of me, a battalion of Sugar Maples in full…. Fall…. Regalia!
Cascading tones of Crimsons, Burgundy, scarlet reds and Golden Hue.
Gazing over Dunk Hill as farmer’s plow fields, turn again for fertility,
There are only brief streams of life giving sunlight, and now the sky turns to a pale grey.
Me, well I live for this time of year….enjoying the evening autumn constellations,
Or Moms dining table adorned with Indian corn and blackberry canes!
Bessie's Margaretville home begins the fall ritual of canning and drying.
Breaking out winter clothes…as she proclaims "no whites after Labor Day"!
The last bit of warmth now dwells just behind the Catskill’s Harvest Moon,
And the V of geese honk their good-byes to the summer sun.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC