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"sweetpea" poems
if ever there were gods or goddesses of desert of the drylands of parched earth some call home they would be surprised to learn                      of the miracle of                            this Spring deluge                                 unfurling forth                                             from deep within                           the crusty dermis           of this sublunar territory:           hydrangea and ***** apple flower,           intermingling their hues           of mauve and lilacs,                               as well as the color of sky                                blooms of the succulents                     popping open                     in celebratory dance                                    in wild fuschia                                 sunray butter: a dazzling botanic trance           hollyhocks of magenta,            veils of bougainvellia, too                     sweetpea clusters              curling in the trellis weaving heavy-scented magic through and through a private orchard of lemon tree, and apple olive and pistachio grove One would not guess the endless giving of this desert treasure trove And I feel like a goddess               of mythology softly spun like Demeter, or Ceres ancient Egyptian Renenutet my hands spread out in the licks of gentle sun for as spring pours forth its honey all through this barren land I , too reawake and flush out all the infected, dust-scratched sand I welcome in the waters of abundance, of love, of light under stars let new energy wash out old poisons my radiance spilling far Reaching out unto the Universe, cradling this heart          I cup the buds of blooms,                                       of nectar to inseminate my dark        allowing me to release the past and seed within me, lit          the atoms of  new                start unfolding bit by tender bit
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Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
desert bloom
if ever there were gods or goddesses of desert of the drylands of parched earth some call home they would be surprised to learn                      of the miracle of                            this Spring deluge                                 unfurling forth                                             from deep within                           the crusty dermis           of this sublunar territory:           hydrangea and ***** apple flower,           intermingling their hues           of mauve and lilacs,                               as well as the color of sky                                blooms of the succulents                     popping open                     in celebratory dance                                    in wild fuschia                                 sunray butter: a dazzling botanic trance           hollyhocks of magenta,            veils of bougainvellia, too                     sweetpea clusters              curling in the trellis weaving heavy-scented magic through and through a private orchard of lemon tree, and apple olive and pistachio grove One would not guess the endless giving of this desert treasure trove And I feel like a goddess               of mythology softly spun like Demeter, or Ceres ancient Egyptian Renenutet my hands spread out in the licks of gentle sun for as spring pours forth its honey all through this barren land I , too reawake and flush out all the infected, dust-scratched sand I welcome in the waters of abundance, of love, of light under stars let new energy wash out old poisons my radiance spilling far Reaching out unto the Universe, cradling this heart          I cup the buds of blooms,                                       of nectar to inseminate my dark        allowing me to release the past and seed within me, lit          the atoms of  new                start unfolding bit by tender bit
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63
SweetPea! she put my poem "The Rain Unseen" (which was posted a long time ago) on a few of the collection sites she went back into my archives to find it! it happens to be one of my favorite poems! there are many people who do this. SweetPea just gave me an inspiration what if we did this: rather than ♥ing a recent poem go back into a poet's ARCHIVE and look for a worthy buried treasure? (a good poem which never trended) like, and REPOST and put on the appropriate collections I had a wonderful response because a lovely poet reposted a write I'm very proud of Thanks to all who have done this for me in the past also YOU ARE ALL WONDERFUL!
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
thank you
What a beautiful soul this fairy has She's as pretty as the flower itself. She has a sense of humour second to none And definitely will not belong on any shelf.
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Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
The Second Story of the Fairy Of The Sweetpea for Sweetpea
( Written as a rejoinder to my friend's poem: "Poem written to a buxom young Lady") You’re very tall And painfully thin. Your bust and waist the same. Your voice is high and pitchy. To hear it causes pain. Your wardrobe, much like Superman’s, lacks all variety. You’re an unfit ***** mother you’ve neglected poor sweetpea. Yet two men battle over you. It strikes me a little strange.- but in your cartoon universe You are the only game. I think I’d side with Whimpy And watch the others fight. I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger tonight.
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May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 11:18 AM UTC
An Ode to Olive Oyl
I joke and say good morning sunshine But you don't realize That I'm only waking up for you Because you're my sunshine Because in the darkness that is me You brighten everything.
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
Good Morning Sweetpea
The Sister pushing pram, playing face ever changing, as she grows. The Father drinking tea, swaying blurring the edges of his woes. The Mother going out, sneaking looking over shoulder, as she goes. The Brother behind bars, crying. Only Mum visits, everyone knows. The Child Safe, soundly sleeping. Sweetpea visable, until it first snows.
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Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 11:04 AM UTC
Merry Christmas
Unordinarily The beautiful flower Bloomed in the winter How extraordinary That precious flower Remains blossomed Indefinitely
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Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 2:39 AM UTC
Sweetpea
Brandon Bless you brother for your Holy Spirit filled poems. Bless you Elsa , for your heart and God is using your poems. Bless you Just Melz, Marion,Nicole,Dark and beautiful  too. Wolf Spirit,DC Raw,Ignatinus, David, Timothy, Joshua.. Joe Kevin, Gary L, Traveler, Mike Hauser, Anto MacRuaridh. Soulsurvivoe, weeping willow,Hilda.Emma, MargotDylan. I want to name each and everyone of you that I follow/ Beth St Claire, Nicole, Elizabeth Squire,Mark Cleavenger. Forgotten Heart, Haley Madison, Eudora, Ann M Johnson.n Vanessa Gatley, Beryl Dov, Mercie B, Paul Butters, Emma. Nateive Son,Dopperganger, Cecil Miller,My cup overrunth. Sweetpea, Frank Ruland, olestory teller, Ridicule, Tivonna. Carolin, Anu, Nicole Dawn. plus so many more inspires me. Please forgive me if you are not on here I love you all. Everyone of you inspires me , I see your courage and your love. May Christ always bless you all abundantly with his blessings. I see the courage in all of you whom have my life here on HP.
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
Untitled
Why is it that every time I come in search for you, I find you alone on the floor Turning black and blue? Tell me, what does he do to you Behind these tightly closed doors? Or why you no longer dance with me Because your body is always sore. You and I, my darling, were happy Before he ever walked in. We'd dance barefoot in the fields, Married to the earth and wind. But when you told me that he loved you I believed you and set you free. I'd always hoped you'd find someone Much worthier than me. But sweetheart, why so many tears? You wear long sleeves more and more. What happened to the lovely summer dresses That once upon a time you wore? And why, sweetpea, is he never home When I come visit during the day? And why is it always night That you choose to run away? Run away again tonite. Come knocking on my door. I will let you in; I swear That you will hurt no more.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Black and Blue "Love"
Flower, Flower. Your petals so pink, your stem so green. It reminds me of simpler times, running through the grass as a child. I love you.
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
4 sweetpea
are you still alive sweetpea? sometimes i think i'm dead but i'm still here.
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
little sweetpea
I ran out of fire extinguisher at 3 am. Oh very well then, I reckon some forest fires you can only douse, if you are to burn with them. Don’t worry sweetpea it’s not going to **** you yet. You’ve still got some time to serve. Some storms to weather. Some flames to persevere. Some houses to burn. When you’re done rebuilding the city from scratch, When you have eaten enough rubble to be able to call it home-food, When you’ve drank sweet sweat and craved for blood in a chalice instead, You may leave. Congratulations my love! You have lived.
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May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
Burn, Baby
The day I wear my blue dress- My hair up in a braid. Those dark blue heels on my feet, And dark veil held by bridesmaid, The day I step under the trellis, To the altar surrounded by men, The priest, and groomsmen, That day, beneath the sun, well it's... The day I'll cry, walking down a white carpet, Blue sweetpea, forget-me-not, cornflower, in my grasp, I'll stand before matching eyes, and of his heart I will only hedge to ask That he love me, in provision, in familial, in sickness, In health, For immer and for the poor side of wealth, For all our days, and the rest... That the day I'll be wed, Not far after the day we'll have met, I will finally let the one who loves me true, Be the one where the words, will finally be said. In the way only we can say "I do"
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 10:21 PM UTC
That Blue Dress
The sun is already warming the first arousal of morning but my lover is traveling the hills and valleys of her dreams still. Sweetpea knows the sounds of my awakening and abounds onto the bed’s corner place where I read my first daily stirring of grace. She knows of all the places she could land it is here she gets the glide of my left hand my hand across her soft brown coat she is well-versed for she knows this time of day she is first. “Feline First,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
Feline First
the last time i saw you the last time i heard your voice was midnight - news years eve i looked into your eyes, as deep as beautiful puddles you said to me "be safe my love, my king, my sweetie pie" you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it punching it hurting it and that is what you did to my heart oh baby, oh darling, oh sweetpea, you have slaughtered me never to see you again because i am dead and in a grave and it is all your fault
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Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC
i love you. where did you go?
SWEETPEA, What are you doing my lovely , In your dress so full. Unpacking the shopping, Knocking and tapping. Until the cupboards are full. You've found how to point your toes, No one taught you how I know, For in that heart, A mirror dance , Showed you where to go . Up in the sky you like to fly, Down on the slide you flow, Then on the beach, The snails you reach , And put them in your toes. Sweetpea you are funny, Your face open and sunny , People will laugh , At your cheeky glance, And talk about it all the way home.
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 9:44 AM UTC
Sweetpea
Christmas would come in the morning, and Santa was on his way; Yet there was no tree for a nine year old, to cheerfully decorate. ~ Dressed warmly in tattered, old rags, into her backyard she strayed; Determined to find a Christmas Tree, to bring home and proudly display. ~ Upon her bended knees she searched, until she finally found; A tree that looked as lonely as her, so she pulled it from the ground. ~ She placed it in her living room, used twine to hold it in place; Then she found the few decorations, that she had managed to save. ~ When the last ornament was hung, she plugged in a strand of lights; And how that lonely tree she found, became a most beautiful sight. ~ "Now Santa will have a place, to put our Christmas gifts;" She smiled as she thought to herself, "I hope all our presents will fit." ~ She took her mother by the hand, to show her what she had done; Her mother smiled, as she said, "This is truly beautiful, hon." ~ "I'm glad you like it mommy, now we're ready when Santa arrives; I wanted to put a Christmas Tree up, and I knew you would be surprised." ~ "Now listen to me Sweetpea, you know how poor we are; I have no money to buy you gifts, though I love you with all my heart. ~ The child looked at her mother, and saw the tears in her eyes; "We will still get lots of presents, 'cause Santa Clause never lies." ~ When Christmas morning arrived, the child sprung from her bed; She woke her mother up and said, "Let's see what Santa Clause left!" ~ Beneath their beautiful, Christmas Tree, there were presents piled everywhere; Her mother stared in disbelief, at the gifts stacked here and there. ~ Then they both heard the sound of a knock, upon their living room door; On the porch were sacks of food, how could anyone ask for much more? ~ They sat down later that evening, and enjoyed their huge, Christmas meal; They both gave thanks to the Lord, and could feel that Christmas was real!
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Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
~A BRANCH OF FAITH~
Christmas would come in the morning, and Santa was on his way; Yet there was no tree for a nine year old, to cheerfully decorate. ~ Dressed warmly in tattered, old rags, into her backyard she strayed; Determined to find a Christmas Tree, to bring home and proudly display. ~ Upon her bended knees she searched, until she finally found; A tree that looked as lonely as her, so she pulled it from the ground. ~ She placed it in her living room, used twine to hold it in place; Then she found the few decorations, that she had managed to save. ~ When the last ornament was hung, she plugged in a strand of lights; And how that lonely tree she found, became a most beautiful sight. ~ "Now Santa will have a place, to put our Christmas gifts;" She smiled as she thought to herself, "I hope all our presents will fit." ~ She took her mother by the hand, to show her what she had done; Her mother smiled, as she said, "This is truly beautiful, hon." ~ "I'm glad you like it mommy, now we're ready when Santa arrives; I wanted to put a Christmas Tree up, and I knew you would be surprised." ~ "Now listen to me Sweetpea, you know how poor we are; I have no money to buy you gifts, though I love you with all my heart. ~ The child looked at her mother, and saw the tears in her eyes; "We will still get lots of presents, 'cause Santa Clause never lies." ~ When Christmas morning arrived, the child sprung from her bed; She woke her mother up and said, "Let's see what Santa Clause left!" ~ Beneath their beautiful, Christmas Tree, there were presents piled everywhere; Her mother stared in disbelief, at the gifts stacked here and there. ~ Then they both heard the sound of a knock, upon their living room door; On the porch were sacks of food, how could anyone ask for much more? ~ They sat down later that evening, and enjoyed their huge, Christmas meal; They both gave thanks to the Lord, and could feel that Christmas was real!
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Do you believe in second chances? In love, yes I do You never know how time changes someone A perfect moment to start over with this one Before, I said he'll remain in my past Now, I know he'll be my last. Love is tolerance if u agree My darling, my one and only sweetpea Stay with me tho sometimes we disagree Without you my life feels totally empty
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Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Second Chances