Best Cardigans Poems

Happiness is scattering herbs of kindness,
   watering weathered willows in the wilderness.

Happiness is following lavender streaks of twilight~
  gliding across cerulean skies, so bright.

Happiness, a synonymous noun for my precious son,
  his lyrical laughter, mirrors the rose moon and sun.

Happiness is...

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By Robert J (Bob) Moore © 2016

I am a British soldier, been a soldier all my life
and back home in England, I left 2 kids and a wife
now I’m outside Sebastapol, with Cardigans Brigade
waiting to fight the Russians, Cavalry on Parade

We are part of Raglans...

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I entered the hotel dining room and sat at my table for an early breakfast, watching the rain pelting against the windows, overlooking the River Clyde. Conversation was limited; more audible the clinking of crockery and cutlery. The tour leader walked in and his booming...

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*** How Lady Learned at Last ***

For decades, Lady daydreamed, wanting a full closet,
A packed, complete fashionable style:
Shoes to hats, to crown the French Bob
Of shinny, brunnette tresses above her hazel eyes.

There’d be gauzy blouses and Merino, Polo 
Sweaters in a dozen colors altogether.

All the...

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Almost had me lost in the dream of life,
Once more I was frost in the doubtful glove,
Forgotten in the center of the oldest strife,
“So what is the use of falling in love?”

“There is no reason there is no logic to feelings",
When you’re unprepared for cosmic...

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Shortest day, longest night 
Celebration of light
Glistening ice and snow
Temperatures low
Bare trees
Ponds freeze

Dress warm
Long sleeve uniform 
Cardigans and sweatshirts 
Goodbye mini skirts
Silk and wool 
Indoor pool

Soup and stew
Don’t misconstrue 
Wish Bread
Glaze spread
Cinnamon and cloves 
On stoves

Ice skating 
Snow tube inflating 
Snow skiing 
Snowboard leaping 
Snowshoe...

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Refraction's slanted sunrise colors your
Eyes, as you fashion and refine the
Mosaic mirrors of your mind
Iridescent icicles of Christmas sleigh rides
Nights by the hearth, wrapped in each other's warmth
Intimate fragrant hush tracing
Springtime's delicate blush
Cloud softened cardigans
Embroided with memories of water lilies
Nostalgia's lakes of slowing ebbing aches
Cushioning...

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when the sun finally shines its last hot beams of
annoying rays down upon the slimy suntan-lotion-saturated 
bodies &
the convertibles get taken back in the garages &
the vast groups of lame ass motorcyclists who drive only during
the summer months (gliding on their gross neon-colored crotch-rockets)
disappear &
the...

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Into the lane
come wind, impetuous rain.
Trees are now a threat,
gesturing wildly, angry,
promising to snap,
eager to pounce,
to crush in an embrace
of leaf and crusty bark.

The village fête, though,
is like the show:
it must go on,
it must go on.
It’s fixed in time,
it’s preordained.

Brave souls
staff the stalls and serve,
to...

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FEELING   THE   COLD


Starting to feel the cold
After all these years
Always had warm hands
Wife called me  hot water bottle
Her personal nuclear reactor
She has cold feet? cold hands?
No problem -  just plaster them onto my bare flesh  
And in a...

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majesty
absence 
cacophony 

Meditation

10:38 PM
i fall asleep
too easy;
close my eyes
craving
the chance to bask
in your majesty 
and open them in some 
strange world 
where agony
and loathing
run amok
along weakly-lit
backstreets 
that smell of burning 
candy floss
and the putrid scent
of stale
cigarette smoke. 
in this place 
i see no men corrupted
with...

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I visited my grandparents today.
Their home has never changed
in all the years I’ve visited
since my life began.

The white ceiling is stained
in shades of orange and peach
from the tobacco pipe
Jim puffs on with grandeur.

The smell put me off
the idea of smoking, but 
as an adult, there...

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Ivory: The astonishing purity of pain, how it is altered from a mere sensation.

Precious, innocent soul
Open thy eyes,
For this world is
Abounding in lies.

There is no 
Place like home,
Yet, the tombs 
Feel seamless.

Those old cardigans,
Might haunt you still,
Oh, my poor soul,
Breathe.

Relieve
that veiled, unaltered
patience, that
doesn’t let you...

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Written: February 1st, 2025 For contest by Sponsored by: Brian Strand

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
        ...

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It was a frozen winter made for cardigans and hot toddies 
she my mother, my first teacher, was feeling sad 
about what  she couldn't say for she could not recall  
I sat by her bedside and flipped through the old album 
and while...

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