Best Bundled Up Poems
Twin, silver cathedral bells, sway and chime.
As every note peals out, clear and sublime.
No winds blow through the sky, this silent night.
The peaceful heavens, filled with a celestial light.
Arm in arm, down the icy lane we do walk.
Heart to heart, our souls they seem to talk.
A pair of happy cardinals, one red, one gold.
Go bobbing through the snow, so white, so cold.
Along the hillside, stands rows of frosted pine.
The fields, blanketed in diamonds, a vision divine.
Couples, young and old, seated in horse-drawn sleighs.
Making new memories, and reminiscing their by-gone days.
Nestled so close together, like two turtledoves.
All bundled up, with warm scarves and gloves.
Amongst white winter lands, we two do wander.
While our light hearts, are growing ever fonder.
Written for Isaiah Zerbst's contest - "Let It Snow-12 Paintings of Winter"
This poem was inspired by the painting-"Christmas Day" by John Ritchie
September, you are a wistful song
Summer sheds a tear when you come along
Sunny summer melodies yield to your mellow song
Its melody fades while yours grow strong
Summer ends and a certain sadness ensues
Sunny days make way for winter blues
September gives us glimpses of summer
Though days be short and golden leaves slumber
The vibrant colors September brings
disguise the coming winter sting
As summer dies it makes one last sunny stand
But will return, for thats how it was planned
Until then we must endure a harsh season
All bundled up, keeping warm is the reason
When the first snow falls
The pristine beauty leaves us enthralled
Soon summer will begin anew
Gray clouds make way for skies of blue
We awaken from our winter slumber
And welcome the butterflies of summer
For Joanne Grisetti's Copy Cat contest
:Inspired by the poem: September
Which was written by: Andrea Dietrich
Spring soothes with a gentle rain
With blushing blooms we once knew
Fragrant flowers will then reign
and everything becomes new
Summer bakes with sizzling days
Many enjoy time at the beach
But heat waves can put us in a daze
As birds flit on branches of the beech
Autumn chills with cooler climes
and adorns the leaves with colorful flair
A gnarly vine on the wall now climbs
As the forest blazes a crimson flare
Winter's brushstrokes paint a snowy scene
As snowflakes land on firs
Christmas decorations can be seen
People are bundled up in furs
10-12-2022
Homophone Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Hat Bueckert
~~
my mind takes me back through the tattered pages of my life
to a place of warmth, security and love . . . . .
to my mother's kitchen with its big cupboards and old stove
and a blue teapot on the kitchen table and grandma telling me of life
of people in the family long dead . . .
it was at that same table that I read my first poems while sipping tea
oh! I recall father shovelling snow in winter all bundled up
and a warm fireplace waiting within . . .
then at night in an attic room this little girl was tucked in
with forever loving hands, hugs and kisses . . . .
_______________________________
January 24, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/home of my childhood
Copyright Protected, ID 01-635-607-24
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Entered in the Standard contest, Home Sweet Home
sponsor Skat , Judged 02/2015
Third Place
I swallowed my tears, as he walked away
I held on to life with a breath,
I crumbled like sand,swept away with the wind
Still, my body was too heavy to lift.
I took a deep breath, and listened with disbelief
As the tears bundled up in my throat.
I had a small tear, in the corner of my eye,
And on my tears began to choke.
I felt I could breath, no more from inside
And fell to my knees to pray,
I couldn't hold back these tears, I must cry,
As the doctor told me what he had to say.
Your wife styruggled hard, and the baby is here,
A new baby boy to call your own.
But your wife so fragile, fell so weak
Three strong breathes, and she passed on.
As she gasp one last breath, and
She spoke those words so clear,
Kiss daddy for me now, I love you both,
I'm sorry your mommy won't be here.
My boat rocks gently under a reddening sun,
is it wrong to wish for a Viking burial,
to ponder a last journey West
into the dying light?
Strangers have always been my friends,
they intuit
the liquid and inflammable nature
of this thing we do.
I could rest my soul here in this skiff
on this one long warm wave of evening;
let the wooded lands and sloping meadows,
the dredged, smoke-stacked barge brimming ports,
the patched up river towns slip on by
under the kindling sails of evening clouds.
I am laid out like a homeless person
bundled up in my rags and tinder,
a shadow in a small boat, drifting.
Night falls to the water
the words of strangers flame high
fire starters and their poems gleaming
as the dark rushes in.
I hitch the boat to a stump of land,
still imagining a Viking funeral,
but also resigned to a tomorrow -
yet another strange place
to play with this fire.
Used to run outside bundled up for winter.
Pulled my sled through snow to the hill where other
children slid with glee and our young hearts pounding.
Thrill of December.
Used to swing for hours in my day-time dreaming.
Played my records thinking of my Prince Charming.
Sang my love aloud in the woods to no one.
Thrill of my teen years.
Used to bike to town with my friends or sisters.
Ran and swam and walked to the park for snow cones.
Sports I played all day till the sun was setting.
Thrill of my summers.
Gone are firefly nights and my firework summers.
Thrills of childhood no longer hold enticement.
How I even dreamed while awake I wonder . . .
now that I’m older.
July 12, 2020
I ate in an outdoor shed today;
The cold did not stand in my way.
I wasn’t bothered by the noise
Of traffic which, at times, annoys.
Construction sounds, like drills and booms
Or buses spewing noxious fumes
Could not create the slightest dent
In my good mood, nor money spent
On mediocre lunchtime fare;
I was so happy to be there!
My friend and I, both bundled up,
Enjoyed our time to chat and sup.
My first time in an outdoor shed
Since Covid reared its ugly head
Was glorious because, to me,
It felt like how things used to be.
Some days, the world outside is too bright
And the thought of facing it gives me a fright
A cozy day inside of my room
Would be the cure against certain doom
Bundled up beneath soft covers
Me and my stuffed animals, cuddled like lovers
The lights are dim to relax my eyes
And my body is curled on the bed to lie
Life is hard to face all alone
A cozy day inside will help to atone
Shush now and calm your racing mind
Feel the sound of your heart beating, and what inside you will find
In just a blink, it's just past eight
Eyes are heavy, sealing sleep as fate
So next time you feel like life is unbearable
A cozy day inside of your room is ineffable
Winter has a deadly chill
Whereas just six months prior
The earth felt like a blazing fire
Unbearable heat didn’t seem that sweet until
Our toes no longer we could feel
Bitterly bundled up, with long desire
For sunshine, causing skin to perspire.
But now all bundled in bed, street are still
Except for the wind that comes gushing in,
Roaring and howling, disrupting the peace;
So violently evil, it pierces our skin;
So oppressive it weighs down and won’t release
Us from the bondage; a parallel storm within.
So in ardence we pray and plead for winter to cease!
Christmas day is coming soon
I can hear the little drummer boys beat
As I sleep under a stack of newspapers
At my home here on the street
I have no shade from the summer heat
No shelter from a spring storm
When autumn and winter roll around
I have no blanket to keep me warm
I have no one to talk to
No doctor to keep me well
My life is like the seventh circle
Of an everlasting hell
I have no feast on Thanksgiving
On my birthday, I have no cake
Most nights as I sleep in my concrete bed
I pray and hope I won't wake
I think about the man I used to be
The one that died so long ago
Now all that's left is this scruffy, filthy creature
Who I don't even know
Now that Christmas is here again
I pray to the good Lord above
For a gift that most don't appreciate
Filled with lots of happiness and love
I'm not talking about material things
I can get by without any of that
All I want is a house and a family
Complete with a dog and a cat
I wish every single Christmas season
That my dear, sweet Lord would send me
A beautiful family with warm, smiling faces
Sipping hot chocolate around a Christmas tree
We would have a most amazing feast
A rack of lamb tied up with a bow
Then we would all get bundled up
And go caroling in the snow
Oh, how glorious that would be
To have a family and a few friends
To have people who love me
Even after this life ends
God please hear my prayers
And answer them if you can
Just grant one simple Christmas wish
To this old homeless man
Snowflakes are falling,
white is all around your feet,
diamonds from the sky.
Make a snow angel,
chilly from your head to toe,
a winter imprint.
bundled up so well,
\
head home to have some coco,
winter has arrived.
Winter! What beauty and pureness unfold
Snow so white, falling like the rain in spring
While some embrace this, others say it’s cold
But this is the season to have a great fling
Dancing and eating, come friends, lets sing
Everywhere the sound of snow bells ringing
Children peeping out the window lips stuck to the pane
Front yards decked with snowmen, icicles dripping
Pull out the snow sleds and toboggans lets go insane
Lets forget about the season when we had wind and rain
Lovers walking to the café, hand in hand
All bundled up, knee high boots, scarves around the neck
Soft and gentle music playing by the in-house band
Nice and cozy on the inside empty chairs on the deck
Her cheeks all rosy, he cups her face and on her lips plants a peck
For 'Welcoming Winter' contest by Carol Brown
My thoughts let go of a thousand memories,
Like faces, dates, times and places;
Yet, I can recall each and every detail,
On the day of your funeral.
(. . .and my mind takes me back through the tattered pages of my life
to a place of warmth, security and love . . . . .)
O the grieving . . .
In the middle of a snow storm I followed,
And the wind blew back my long hair;
As we meandered down a winding cold path,
The wild wind paused in the trees.
( . . O, my mother's kitchen with it's big cupboards and old stove
and a blue teapot on the kitchen table and grandma telling me of life,
of people in the family long dead . . . )
O the weeping. . .
Snowflakes fell on me from the tangled branches,
Falling like crying tears cascading down;
I am lost and moaning in this forever, ever memory,
And now the snow drifts in the cemetery.
(. . . and it was at that same table that I read my first poems
while sipping tea and father coming in from shovelling snow
in winter all bundled up . . . )
O the sadness . . .
A headstone is buried deep in the pure white,
And but one engraved word is revealed;
In this pristine cold, dead winter wonderland,
Only one word can be seen, MOTHER,
Hidden beneath the snow.
(. . . a warm fireplace waiting within
then at night in an attic room this little girl was tucked in
with forever loving hands, hugs and kisses . . .)
O the lamenting . . .
I will treasure your arms last embrace, mother,
till this heart stops beating . . .
__________________________________
February 19, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/''oh the memories, memories''
Copyright Protected, ID 02-641-987-19
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Memories
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron, Judged 03/2015
Second Place
Bundled up package,
Awaiting soils minerals;
Beauty trapped in seeds.
Nathan Bane Leccese
© All Rights Reserved 06/30/09