~ meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world ~    [Author's Home Page!]
  311257   Poems Read   

[Poetry PoetryPoem] [Poetry Search] [Contact Us] [FREE Site] [Home] [Poets] [Login]

Last Night

Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019


Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

Unwelcomed Like So Much Unfinished Business

In March (Finally, Spring 2016)

All For Algernon

Weak In The Knees

The Finisher's Song

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All Beings Considered

This Is It

Max on the max

I Long For Stars

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

If I Could Be The Sky...

More Poetry >>

Blueberry Blues

Picking blue pearls
staining our fingers and our tongues
we're a sea of young and old voices
shouting to one another
a freckling of harvesters toiling
in the sun.
We are the berry pickers
collecting blue bounty by the bowl.
I think I've eaten way too much
I hear you're supposed to clean 'em
before you eat 'em,
didn't you know?
The birds and bears eat blues
by the bushel,
the ants eat purple raisins off the grass.
The bees busily pollinate each white flower
but the berry season never seems to last.
I have filled up a corner of my freezer
I have grilled pancakes by the stack,
Still there's never enough bounty
through the winter to last or please us.
We're gerbils with our constant nibbling
seem to

August 29th 2011 All Rights Reserved by the Author
Melissa A Howells of Tilt-a-World

I hardly ever write silly stuff...so I'm tring it out. I am thinking I have not succeded
as well as Edward Lear..."who has writen such volumes of stuff...."
But there is no harm in trying.
Yes, today we picked 8 pounds of blueberries. And people were picking much much more than that,
here in Oregon we take our berries very seriously.

Vote for this poem

Blueberry Blues



Email Poem

©2000 - 2019 ------- Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors

Sign Guestbook Read Guestbook

   Tell someone about this Poem.    blank

[ Control Panel ]
Last 100 Poems

Search over
400,000 poems!