What Poem From The Valley That Calls Are You?

These berries come to me in perfect red
The smell of the season, they're Spring cherries.
In sight, I perceive them the sweetest fruit
And in taste too, the most succulent juice.
I sense that around the corner Summer
Resides. Only into the freshest Spring.

The creation of life, only in Spring
The birth of the sun - bright-orange and red -
Prematurely, leads way to our Summer
We wait for it by breed of these cherries
Making the most of this brightly churned juice
With it bestows a tall season of fruit.

The world's most colourful basket of fruit
Shiny reds, greens, browns, yellows is the Spring.
Squeezing every last drop of orange juice
Apples, strawberries, cherries, all in red,
And squeeze the juice out of many cherries.
Breed the finest fruit juice for the Summer.

We have to look forward to the Summer,
For it will soon produce a lot more fruit
That Winter denies us, like theses cherries.
'Look forward to Summer,' tells us the Spring,
'And every other fruit produced in red.'
Pomegranates, watermelons, sweet juice

Of berries. To eat raw or drink by juice
Savouring all flavours of the Summer.
I put on my lipstick - colour in red -
And go to the garden to pick out fruit
I see early signs of figs, budding Spring
And wash out a basket of pure cherries.

Every moment, savouring the cherries
Slowly sucking out all its sweet red juice
Breathing in wisps of the fresh water spring.
Moments of the arriving warm Summer
Savoured. Let me draw this basket of fruit
So I'll remember how it stands in red.

The life of the cherries, glories of red
Sweetening juice, carefully hand-picked fruit
The fresh water spring streams through for Summer.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

When the baby was born they bought a gift,
It was a shiny, wooden-brown wall clock.
Every second, each baby's breath would count
With the clock will the baby grow through time
And as that passed, the clock would count the years
It still ticked on when he was ten years old.

It would tick on when he was decades old.
In time, he began to realise the gift.
A subconscious part of him over years
Very used to the ticking of this clock
A stability to him over time.
It would be there for him, seconds to count.

He got married, had kids, it would still count.
Six foot tall, he grew a beard and got old.
His form largely transformed over much time
Constant in appearance remained the gift.
He would sigh calmly when he saw the clock
It brought him peace and rest over the years.

Closing his eyes, he reflected on years
The clock still patiently would for him count.
His age-old relationship with the clock
Compassionate friend at sixty years old,
Even his wife would relinquish the gift
Since she knew it re-lived with him through time.

The clock still ticked over decades of time
His hair now cotton white as all his years
Still counting - every moment now a gift.
Nothing more important than life to count.
Metrically it was the same age old
As himself - he was as old as the clock.

But now he was dying and old, the clock
Would still tick. Death would consume him in time.
A good life, but now a century old
Illness would now engulf all of his years.
Before he died, he would the ticking count
Now in blackness - what would be of his gift?

The man died, the clock stopped - no more the gift.
A century would it all this time count -
The clock stopped too, at one hundred years old.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

Cupid's a cherub sailing on a cloud,
Cupid searches for new hearts to flutter.
Hearts ecstatic will boom, boom, boom out loud.

Over the distance, Cupid spots a crowd.
A hostile couple, foul words do mutter.
Cupid's a cherub sailing on a cloud.

Cupid strikes his arrow, the two are wowed.
For each other now, their hearts will clutter.
Hearts ecstatic will boom, boom, boom out loud.

Cupid spots a sad girl, and a boy proud.
Fires at the boy, who'd kind words now utter.
Cupid's a cherub sailing on a cloud.

He fires at a couple with their heads bowed
Now these love-birds will pull down the shutter...
Hearts ecstatic will boom, boom, boom out loud.

Cupid thinks more marriages will be vowed
The work he's done is as good as butter.
Cupid's a cherub sailing on a cloud,
Hearts ecstatic will boom, boom, boom out loud.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

In my hands I hold the cold, moist, clear glass
I take a gradual sip, it tastes like bliss,
The sweet, tangy taste of the drink is class,
A shot of alcohol, its bitter kiss.
Lightly with my finger I stir the ice
Cold and cool floating over the fizzy
A blend of many flavours, each so nice,
Tropical shots - in time I'll feel dizzy.
One more sip of the luxurious shot,
The world around me I have forgotten,
Its icy-coolness in a world so hot,
With nothing else am I now besotten.
These moist flavours of pineapple I hail,
There is nothing else quite like this cocktail.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

Painted lady and fritillary pets,
Within the valley there are butterflies
Heaths, coppers, skippers, peacocks and ringlets,
Hundreds and thousands of them in the skies.

Within the valley there are butterflies
A phenomenal spot in the valley,
Hundreds and thousands of them in the skies
Their long, patterned wings appeal visually.

A phenomenal spot in the valley,
Flying in thousands of many colours,
Their long, patterned wings appeal visually
Coming in all sorts of pretty flavours.

Flying in thousands of many colours,
Flocking around, they're the most kingly things,
Coming in all sorts of pretty flavours
With their glorious and delicate wings.

Flocking around, they're the most kingly things,
Heaths, coppers, skippers, peacocks and ringlets,
With their glorious and delicate wings,
Painted lady and fritillary pets.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

Passionate, strong and fiery is the kiss
It lingers over the mouths of the two.
Each other for a long time they would miss.

Their lips every last moment will pursue
Every last breath is orgasmic for them.
Passionate, strong and fiery is the kiss.

She tugs his shirt and pulls across its hem
Coarsing her fingers wildly through his hair.
Each other for a long time they would miss.

Ecstatically, they're both gasping air
Sexual atmosphere lingers in the room.
Passionate, strong and fiery is the kiss.

The twinkling blue dusk will silently loom
Murmuring voices as rushing hearts pound.
Each other for a long time they would miss.

Soft, silent whispers as fevers resound
Capturing each every moment of bliss.
Passionate, strong and fiery is the kiss.
Each other for a long time they would miss.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

Lucy revises for her school exams
Her family knows she needs the silence
They all try to keep as quiet as lambs
The telly's off, no shows of violence.

Her family knows she needs the silence
Lucy's distracted by every small noise,
The telly's off, no shows of violence
She needs to handle it with better poise.

Lucy's distracted by every small noise,
Such as drip drop, drip drop, drip drop, drip drop,
She needs to handle it with better poise
Flip flop, flip flop, flip flop, flip flop, flip flop.

Such as drip drop, drip drop, drip drop, drip drop,
Slight sounds from the tap, mum's clogs and the clock,
Flip flop, flip flop, flip flop, flip flop, flip flop,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

Slight sounds from the tap, mum's clogs and the clock
They all try to keep as quiet as lambs
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
Lucy revises for her school exams.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681

The cities are no longer built on land,
Anti-gravity they float in the air.
Some own a time-machine and understand
That people can now travel anywhere
They like by teleportation. Transport
Is not necessary now because most
Are able to get to any resort
In seconds. For teleport machines host
This possibility. There are tunnels
Under water that carry speeding trains
That get there in seconds under gunnels.
Going far places no longer restrains.
People may go where they like every day,
More affordably and without delay.

From The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim
For more amazing poems from this book see:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Valley-that-Calls-Deniz-Besim/dp/1502346680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448552182&sr=8-1&keywords=the+valley+that+calls+createspace+9781502346681