The INDEX for our Archived 'Write To A Picture' pages is HERE.


 
 

After the Harvest

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)


I titled this page 'After the Harvest', and I'm going to give you an added challenge. Members and guests on our message board have been writing poems around a group of words. I would like to see us do that, too, but if you'd rather not, you may simply 'write to the picture'. Actually, it's fun to see how different our imaginations work around the same group of words. Why not give it a try?

The words or group of words I chose will follow. The idea is to use one word per stanza, in any order, and you may have connecting stanzas. In this particular challenge, try and follow the harvest theme. We look forward to your entry.

The list:


spices
blushing
attic
whirl-a-gig
basket
"Promise you won't tell?"

*******

LaraOct7. (LaraOct7@aol.com)











 

After The Harvest

By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)


WE WENT TO THE MOUNTAINS EACH FALL
WE HAD TO PICK THEM ALL.
BLUSHING APPLES
A BASKET WE FILLED
HOME WE WENT AFTER THE TRIP
WE BAKED WITH SPICES THAT WAFTED UP TO THE ATTIC
FILLING THE HOUSE WITH AROMAS SO NICE
PROMISE YOU WON'T TELL THAT WE FOUND
A WHIRL A GIG UP THERE SHHH PSST SHHHH !!!!!









 

After The Harvest

By Sharon (ByGolly25@aol.com)


"You smell like spices, what scent did you use?
Her boyfriend asked, "I have no clues."


Blushing she looked at him with a grin
"Is that your car would you take me for a spin?"


"Well I suppose," he answered a bit shy
A pretty gal will do that to a guy


"Just wait a moment," she spoke again
"I need to get a basket from within"


She went inside and up to the attic
He followed her there, he was a love addict


While there they spotted a garden whirl-a-gig
It was quite clever though not big


He started to kiss and touch her quite well
She said, "I will if you promise me you won't tell."


She had planned to fill the basket with food
But love making seemed better to fit the mood


So they played in the attic and didn't go for a ride
When her Dad got home he tanned her hide









 

The Whirl-A-Gig

By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)


Lucy went down to Pine Tree Place Home and Garden with her basket in hand.
She was looking for harvest treasures her collection to expand.


Old Mrs. Banning smiled as she saw Lucy blushing while looking at a display.
It was something that you didn't see everyday.


Lucy was looking at an old fashioned whirl-a-gig like her Grandpa used to make.
She rememberd back when she was a little girl and used to play with this toy with her brother, Jake.


It might be still up in the attic of her parents' home.
She hadn't been there since she married Jerome.


"If I buy this, promise you won't tell", said Lucy to Mrs. Banning.
She just smiled from her rocker and kept on fanning.


Lucy bought a bunch of dried spices, and Mrs. Banning put the whirl-a-gig in a bag.
She intended to give it to Jake as a Christmas gag.


Lucy left with the items in her basket and got back into the buggy for the trip home.
She had promised that she wouldn't be late to make supper for her dear Jerome.


He was out in the fields getting the last of the crops in before the first frost came,
And Lucy was going to make his favorite hot supper which was her claim to fame.









 

After the Harvest

By Doris (Toto38@aol.com)


"Promise you won't tell?" was all she would say
Until I promised her on that Thanksgiving day
To not tell a soul that she was going away
To Ireland to find her blood kin in Galway


I followed her to the small attic door
To get the big suitcase she needed for
Her clothing and traveling books galore
That she'd take with her to the far Galway shore.


She opened it up and inside, neatly laid,
Found the old whirl-a-gig her foster father had made
From the old cedar tree in the Covington Glade
Where she and her sister, Rosemary, played.


The smell of turkey and spices rose 'neath our feet
And we knew we'd be called to the table to eat
The meal that was made from salad to meat
So run we did to a dining room seat.


Sister was serving the turkey well-done
While blushing at Sheamus O'Toole's youngest son
The laughter went round the table, and fun
Was had till the set of that Thanksgiving sun.


Her suitcase lay opened on the old attic floor
Next to the basket of clothes she'd looked for
Now thinking again of the dinner, she swore,
She'd stay until after the harvest in Balfour.









 

After the Autumn Harvest

By Mike (IBromantic2@aol.com)


AFTER THE AUTUMN HARVEST OUR BASKETS WOULD OVER FLOW
WITH ALL THE NEEDS OF LIFE THAT HELP A FAMILY GROW
MOTHER HAD HER SPICES SHE COOKED THE GREATEST MEALS
SHE ALWAYS ADDED A TOUCH OF LOVE AT LEAST THATS THE WAY IT FEELS


BROTHER GOT SOME CANDY AND A TOY WHIRL-A-GIG
HE WOULD STAND FOR HOURS AND FLY IT THATS ALL HE EVER DID
HE TALKED OF BEING A PILOT AND FLYING IN THE CLEAR BLUE SKIES
AND I AM SURE HE WILL YOU CAN SEE IT IN HIS EYES


SISTER GOT SOME LIPSTICK IT MADE HER LIPS LOOK RED
MOMMA MADE HER WASH IT OFF WHEN SHE WENT TO BED
SHE STOOD THERE IN THE MIRROR BLUSHING HOPING NO ONE WOULD SEE
AS SHE USED HER FINGERNAILS TO SCRAPE LIPSTICK FROM HER TEETH


DAD WOULD GET SOME NAILS TO FIX THE ATTIC FLOOR
AND A CAN OF OIL TO MEND THAT SQUEEKY DOOR
DAD WAS ALWAYS WORKING DOING WHAT NEEDED DONE
BUT AS FAR AS DADDY S GO HE WAS THE GREATEST ONE


AFTER THE AUTUMN HARVEST I WOULD THROW A PENNY IN THE WISHING WELL
I WILL TELL YOU WHAT I WISHED FOR IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL
I WISHED ALL THE WORLD COULD SEE WHERE LOVE FIRST GOT ITS START
AND SHARE IN THE AUTUMN HARVEST THAT LIVES WITH-IN MY HEART









 

After the Harvest

By Tom (TOMWYO@aol.com)


Mr. and Mrs. Pine lived at the pines,
had pines all around their home.
So after they retired,
they opened the “Pine Tree Market.”


Punkins, apples and cider too,
Spices to use for holiday cooking.
Homemade gee-gaws,
many neat things, from after the harvest.


Mrs. Pine was a blushing,
after Pa kissed her beneath
the mistletoe,
the Rev was a watching.


From the attic they had on display,
the clothes they wore on their wedding day.
He a PFC and she in a deep blue suit,
Mrs. Clara Oak, wed PFC Pine.


A whirl-a-gig wildly spun,
there was a bit of wind.
Caught people’s eye it did,
as Pa Pine, mulled the cider.


A big basket by the door,
filled with small red apples,
Take one, eat what you take,
As you browse and reminisce.


People from the village, city too,
come to the store.
“Promise you won’t tell,”
was a sign over the back door.


Easy going, all relaxed,
people came and looked about,
buying for Thanksgiving and Christmas too,
Just enjoying, after the harvest.









 

After the Harvest

By susi Taylor (Texaswishr@aol.com)


After the harvest, I surveyed my basket of mums
picked from my flower garden
Then cut back the plants as I do each year
Before the ground starts to harden


I think i'll add some storebought carnations
'cause to me they smell like spice
They ought to smell like money
I could hardly afford the price


The peaches on the trees were blushing
pink shadows on their yellow fuzz
Now i've got to harvest the honey
So, i'll just follow the buzz


From the attic the old man is watching
As I go about doing harvest work
But he'd rather go thru old trunks and things
Harvest is jobs he likes to shirk


The windmill is spinning like a whirl-a-gig
In the brisk fall wind that's blowing
The pumpkin field looks golden and green
And it's fruit is finished growing


Along the creek, in the waving grass
Shasta daisies give off their sweet smell
They tee-hee and giggle as their secrets fly
and they say, "Now promise that you won't tell"









 

After the Harvest

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)


It all came about because of little Danny,
who wanted a whirl-a-gig like the one he'd seen in front of Old Bill's shanty.
The spinning wings of a cross-eyed crow had taken his eye,
and he wanted one.


All that week they'd been gathering in the crops,
Hauling wagonloads of pumpkins, digging turnips and sacking the tops.
The apple trees had given them a bumper crop that year;
There were bushels and bushels of blushing Pink Lady's.


Little Danny would ride the wagons out to the fields,
and with his little basket, he would gather apples for the cider mill.
It was a bountiful harvest and the family canned and preserved,
until the shelves sagged and there were none left to fill.


Grandpa hadn't forgotten about Danny's wish for a cross-eyed crow,
and in the evenings, when supper was over,
he would sneak off to the attic where it was quiet and still.
This went on for five evenings and then Grandma got suspicious.


Odd, she thought as she climbed the attic stairs;
There's a wonderful spicy aroma up here.
There sat Grandpa by the window, with a piece of apple wood in his hands.
"Promise you won't tell?," he said. "I'm making Danny his cross-eyed crow."









 

After the Harvest

By Cara (Cara617@aol.com)


"Promise you won't tell," is what my sister said to me after the harvest.
She was blushing when she told me her story.
While cleaning up the Pine Tree Place Home & Garden Gift Shop attic,
it seems she came upon a whirl-a-gig and began playing with it.


As it whirled and twirled, it hit a great big woven basket.
Expensive spices filled the container from top to bottom.
Because I kept my promise, I cannot tell you what happened next.









 

After the Harvest

By Lilly (Lilprincessitali@aol.com)


One week before Thanksgiving I checked my kitchen
for things I needed to make the dinner and wrote on paper,
and asked my daughter if she would go with me. Yes,she said
and let's stop at AfterTheHarvest market first. 0kay
Saturday came and we wentthere. Browsed around awhile;
we bought some craft items made out of wood.
Then went to grocery store and I picked up spices and groceries.
I picked out a turkey and left tag on with my name and told butcher
i will pick up Monday evening, also rolls in bakery.
Went to apt next door. A man was playing outside with a whirl-a-gig
with his son. Was interesting to watch..I asked where he got it and he said
he makes them to sell. I ordered one for someone's birthday coming soon.
Came home and daughter's boyfriend was waiting. He kissed her and
asked will you marry me? She said yes and said to me, promise you wont tell?
He was blushing but oh, that is naturalI told him..
I put stuff in house and saw a basket of clothes on floor I had forgotten,
I put in machine to wash..
Oh what a day and I was tired. I went up in attic to put storm window on,
in case we will get heavy snow..Then I laid down for a nap.









 

After the Harvest (Ball)

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


Promise you won't tell
I kissed Henry at the ball,
He melted my heart on the veranda
Under the harvest moon and all.


There weren't just spices
In the club house punch,
I saw them making it up
At the Ladies Pumpkin lunch.


I believe it was the whirl-a-gig, though,
When Henry twirled me so fast,
Dizzy I was when the Barn Town Five,
Played boogie - it was such a blast.


Yes, I know, you can see I'm blushing,
Don't know if I love Henry or not,
He's really not Mr. personality plus,
But for now he's all I've got.


If you really promise you won't tell,
I'll go to the attic and find
Something beautiful for you and sneak it out,
If you will just be so kind.


If you do, I'll keep your secret too
Of what you put in last Easter's basket,
Oh, yes, I just knew it was you,
I never had to ask it.














         

 

 






Thanksgiving Day ( Several Authors )

Wee Angels

Plymouth Rock

In Love With Maine ( A slide show )

Thank You to our Veterans and Military

Haiku: Bow Bridge




Lara's Den has free E-cards.
I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors.
Click the button to access the index.


New at Lara's Den. Click the Thumbnail.


And.......for many others, click the index image.



Graphics by Marilyn
http://graphicsbymarilyn.com

graphicsbymarilyn@yahoo.com