Best Buttons Poems
Threads of gold rays stitch the morning with buttons of light on quilted clouds.
5/28/22
Nana's buttons and Grampy's keys,
their presence displayed as proud as you please.
Nana's rattled in an old glass jar
and Grampy's hung with the keys to his car.
The perplexing thing for a boy to percieve
is why both had more of each than they need,
so I wrinkled my young and inquisitive brow
and asked which of those they could use now?
"Child, it isn't for today we save keys and buttons,
it's for things tomorrow to fix and open."
I suppose with that thought I live to this day
with buttons and keys I can't throw away,
and now their colors and shapes and sizes
are more like a gift and memory's prizes.
mojo buttons be
pleadin' forgiveness once more;
sound escapes my mind
*inspired by Charmaine's poem....one circle, round and round again....
I’ve been asked why I would keep it,
Why I don’t throw it away,
This big box of fancy buttons.
They are of no use today.
In these days of fast and furious,
Zippers are the way to go.
When all is so tightly scheduled,
Buttoning buttons is too slow.
This pink one’s from the little dress
My dear mama sewed for me
When nothing could be store-bought
And my mama’s time was free.
These buttons are my memories
Of the years not long ago,
When pretty buttons were the fashion,
And all time was set on slow.
Written: 1/20/13
Once upon a whimsical dream
Where precious buttons are priceless gems
Colors present like rainbow streams
All flavors, rich! All of them!
Once upon a whimsical time
Needing a button for her favorite coat
She waltzed into a dream, sublime
While admiring gems displayed on a float
So in love with these buttons was she
That her face wore an expression of awe
Smiling, the Dream maker agreed
That true love is what his eyes saw
Hurriedly, before she would awake
He wrapped a beautiful button, a gift!
As he knew there was no mistake
This gem of a button would truly lift
~*~
02/01/13
For My Andrea, my "Button"
These buttons up and down your chest,
so close to you they felt your breath
all day as you hurried for work;
rounded studs so near me , I ache
holding them now that you are gone.
I never gave the pearly shells
much attention through the long nights,
except to stitch them extra well
to save myself hours if they fell.
I ironed all around them, washed
this shirt for long deadlines unsought
and wept for precious moments lost.
These buttons up and down your chest,
undone while we loved through moonlight;
I rub them now for your funeral…
and find their clasp,miserable.
----------
7/23/2015
Silent One's Moods Contest
Write Me Sad
A button, one knows is held tightly by thread
Secured to its post unwavering, it’s said
That nothing, no nothing would wrest it apart
Or keep it from its dependable start.
Its lifetime, like ours is varied at best;
Too many buttons have been put to the test
Whether by stress, by anger or simply decay
Each thread of life was torn away.
Like surgeons we mend with patience pretend
To restore the bond to which we depend.
Our memories are woven, one thread at a time
Through various sizes some less than a dime.
We cherish and garner each stray away
Into glass jars we place them for another day.
So, cherish the thought that your buttons are taut
That nothing, no nothing remains so sought.
A handful of buttons, the trickles and rustles ... a nice sound
Sew a button on your hat then you have a very special hat
A handful of buttons, see how they shine in gold and silver
Buttons on a string you have a very special ring
A handful of buttons, ten, twenty, thirty, forty ...
Glue several buttons on your handbag
when you have a unique decoration
A handful of buttons, the trickles and rustles ...
a nice sound
Make a garland of shiny buttons and hang it on your door
A handful of buttons, see how they shine in gold and silver
A small heart box with buttons on
it will be a nice present two give to a friend
A handfull with buttons, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty ...
I have a big box of old buttons yes hundreds of buttons
A handful of buttons, red, yellow, green, blue, orange ...
My buttons are my treasures and can be used for so much
02.02.2013
A-L Andresen :)
(5th in the contest)
Billy Buttons
under the
Celery Pines
free verse
Billy Button's downy foliage
Burst open with large gold blooms.
Midst thousands of dandelion's green
Above, celery pines tip their plumes.
Grasslands wave contently in the fields
Missouri golden rods climb the hill.
Broom beard grass and buffalo clover
Send subtle earthy scents, cross my sill.
Mulberry's beckoning to the blue ash,
Creeping soft grass hides the jasmine crepes.
Water pond seeks dry nooks and crannies
As nature swags her majestic drapes.
All of nature is alive and full of romance
Kissed by morning dew she opens her buds
Her long silky fingers rustle all to wake
Bejeweling earth in vibrant colored studs.
Carole Cookie Arnold
2010<>
I have these buttons that people press,
That make me a little crazy.
It might be someone who leaves a mess,
Because they are too lazy.
Or it might be someone who makes a noise,
When I want to take a nap.
Or my brother who takes my toys,
And my favorite baseball cap.
An elevator has buttons too,
That take it up and down.
It happily does what it’s told to do,
And doesn’t make a frown.
Maybe I won’t jump again,
When my buttons are pressed.
I could just count to ten,
And be a lot less stressed.
TOO MANY BUTTONS TO PUSH
There's too many buttons to push each day
But there's one in particular, like a donkey I bray
I scream out yee haw
Sometimes get lockjaw
I'm totally scrambled like an egg soufflé
© Jack Ellison 2015
(Inspired by The Wulfman)
In the fifties, my sister and I would play store;
selling ice cream and candy just like our grandpaw.
Granny let us delve into her spare button box
where we found the coins for our special cash drawer.
We sorted them all out by size and by color
marking some as quarters, nickels, pennies or dimes.
Imagination was the best of our playmates;
we even had half-dollars, the rarest of finds.
Last year we two met to go shopping just for fun;
can you guess what awaited me and my sister?
Brand-new buttons made of honest-to-God live coins.
We found all the reg’lar ones, but no half-dollar.
We giggled as we shopped, pretending like old times.
Strangest thing we discovered along with this find -
the penny buttons? no cheaper than the quarters.
The cost of the buttons did not match with their kind!
I know of a gentle young lady,
who told of a mystery,
that's ancient and bold, a myth of old,
so curious to people like me.
This amiable lass,
a woman of class,
and violet hair to boot,
laid eyes on me,
my naked belly,
and proclaimed with exuberant fact,
"Did you know you've a deep belly-button,
a cavern as deep as the sea?"
and then she said,
straight from her head,
something I couldn't conceive.
People like me,
with this bantam innie,
are deep creatures emotion-ally.
Counting Buttons
Nanny was an old lady
always rocking in her chair
On her front porch
you would find her there
My daughter at her young age
loved to sit on Nannys lap
Counting one, two, three buttons
and then they would clap
Day in and day out
counting buttons was their thing
Much joy and laughter
this simple task would bring
I truely believe
this is how my daughter learned to count
On the lap of an old lady
in memory of Nanny we recount
Belly Buttons
A funny thing, the belly button
We’ve all got one you know
While most of them are innies
Some innie just won’t go
The innies all collect some lint
The outies simply can’t
The lint can find no foothold
Due to the button’s slant
Some of them are jeweled
Some “Ah Natural”
And most of them stay covered
So no one can really tell
Now if you all are wondering
Just what my button’s like
Use your imagination
No hint from Uncle Mike