Poems about vanilla


№ 1209207

French Vanilla

Words are anything you want them to be
Let your heart be light
Let your mind be free
No need to be sophisticated
Or have meaning in depth
Just simply pick up
Wherever you've left

french,  vanilla.

Author: Nevermind
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1195820

She Kisses with Vanilla-Flavored Existence

She's a vanilla kind of person.
There's simplicity and lightness in the way her lips curve
And her cheeks blush.

Sweetness can be felt with every touch of her fingertips.
And whenever the wind blows through her hair,
Sun rays peek as if passing through forest of juniper trees.

Every step she takes are like melodies
From harp strings played by an angel.

existence,  flavored,  kisses,  vanilla.

Author: Sha
Date: 25/03/2020

№ 1183459

Vanilla Gloaming

I watched the sun drop over the hill--
Like an egg cracked--
A yoke of understanding washed over me:

This list of do's and don'ts
This need to obtain perfection
Is an unattainable standard

Why strive?

I watched you watch your vanilla sky,
And I let you go

You with your affable smile and easy laugh
You with your eyes so genuine and your feet deeply rooted
You with the unnecessary apologies

You do not belong to me, and you never will
Just like this now pink, now orange, now purple sunset
That sinks down like a promise

Not to give me what I want
But to provide me with a new day tomorrow
To live again and reach again for perfection

This idea is not my own:
Clouds like scars mar this sherbet sky and remind us that even this broken creation is beautiful.

gloaming,  vanilla.

Author: Cait
Date: 13/03/2020

№ 1167020

Vanilla Extract

~Vanilla Extract

Under extreme duress,
Word-boarding extreme,
She issues up reluctantly a true confess

Her secret ingredient
In everything is
Vanilla extract

Where do you source this
In quantities so ample,
Keep it well hid,
For all I see
After cupboard investigatory
Solitary tiny brown bottle
Shelved alone, forlornly?

With a vanilla smile,
That persists for quite the while,
She crinkly eyed laughs

*"I get fresh extract
Near everyday,
For when I awake to a
Fresh poem from a poet
Who loves me,
I draw all the vanilla out,
Then feed it back to him
In the foods I supply,
So his poetry is for ever

extract,  vanilla.

Author: Left Foot Poet
Date: 28/02/2020

№ 1160456

Crushed Vanilla

Take care my foolish heart
Theres a line between love and fascination
I've loved crushed vanilla
Every sensation Magical

Beware my foolish heart
Should our eager lips collide
Like crushed vanilla
My love Is sensational

Step cautiously my foolish heart
Smoke wisps from her lips
There's a line which We are standing on
Like crushed vanilla

My foolish foolish heart
Stay calm
Be warm my foolish heart
Crushed vanilla Is what I need

Crushed vanilla
I yearn for with all my foolish heart
Crushed Vanillllaaa... baby
Thats what you are.
Crushed crushed crushed vanilla

My foolish heart
I'll wait forever for you
My crushed vanilla
Until the end of time

crushed,  vanilla.

Author: Ka
Date: 22/02/2020

№ 1138976

V is for Vanilla.

We're all so cute and sweet.
"I would never hurt you. "
"You're my friend, why would I do that? "
You can't not hurt me,
It's what people do.
I don't want to be spared from
The pain of caring for you.
I tied myself down to you,
And let you whip me with the words
I fed you.
So don't lie to me and say
You would never hurt me
Because I know you will.
I do not, however, know that
You will pick up the pieces
Of my broken mind, and put
Me back together, that I might
I won't be hurt by you again.


Author: Lottie
Date: 02/02/2020

№ 1130288

Vanilla Ice Cream

It burned my little petal
But the gun was cold on my face
I was not afraid
I was in another place
My imagination escaped
I ran through fields of flowers
Catching butterflies and smelling daffodils
I blew bubbles slowly into the air
Chased the dog across the yard
I had a vanilla ice cream and it was just right
The sun was warm against my skin
I was not inside a cage

cream,  ice,  vanilla.

Author: Flawless Contradictions
Date: 25/01/2020

№ 1095081

French vanilla

Perhaps the reason
I cannot be still is because
Light so often shifts, falls
Scattered through blinds
Refracted in mirrors, slipping
And bursting, drifting across
Wood like a great yawn
Tipped and toppled over
Crevasses, sliding under doors
You've seen the way it reaches
In blithe slices,

Perhaps I have been snuffed
Out, i have probably trimmed my
Own wick, or thrown duvets across
Myself, spilled into black coffee to mix
With devils, see how good I really am
But found that you only flare up before

I've spent more time drunk in the past
Month than any of the time before my 21st
Woken up to trace the rafters in his room
And count the letters of an O'Neal jersey hung
On his closet, memorized the stitches on twelve
Longsleeve shirts and changed the calendar from
March to April on a drunk, half-alive hour.

This isn't me, I'm whispering into his shoulder blades.
I'm so lost, matt. I say, but he no longer answers.
He no longer has things to say, he no longer has
The right to comfort me, that's been stolen away.
I have stolen that away, I am a light but I am a thief
Too forward and impatient, hearty and loyal but incredibly

And don't be a pussy about it he remarks, getting into his truck.
I wanted to tell him, hold me like you used to.
Maybe I deserve these things he says, I hardly know


I hardly know.

french,  vanilla.

Author: brooke
Date: 24/12/2019