Best Chaise Lounge Poems
Another sweltering day
soaking up all the summer sun has to offer
The trade winds blow but offer no relief
slowly I sip on a frozen peach margarita
ice cold to the touch, but melting fast
water droplets roll down cooling my wrist
bringing back memories
memories of that cool December day
your first taste of snow
how I didn't even know
that gleam in your eye
when we made those snow angels
they seemed to come alive
all those laughs, your giggle
so much more than a memory
building that tiny igloo
you dragging me in
giving me that big kiss
for the night, the perfect inn
hot cocoa sitting round the open fire
you in my arms
you captured my heart
and all my desire
such a sweet time.
Opening my eyes I turn to you
half-asleep on that chaise lounge
kiss your hand
and whisper I love you
We were golfing in the morning
It was me and my friend Bill
We were on hole number seven
Everything was going well
I drove my ball straight down the fairway
The shot was pretty nice
Bill leaned hard into his shot
But he had a tendency to slice
It disappeared toward the Condos
We could hear a frightening crash
The picture window tinkled down
Pieces lying on the sash
He said I must go and apologize
To the lady in the place
He found her lying in her chaise lounge
Dressed in frilly things and lace
He went in to check the damage
That he’d done to her place
He came out two hours later
With a big smile on his face
She said don’t worry ‘bout the damage
I already have been paid
My day has started very nicely now
What a difference it has made
I may have lost a window
But the breaks been very nice
You can stop in any time
It has been a slice
I feel my ears pop,
As the light above me increases ...
Columns of purple sunshine shimmer and dance.
I swim up out of the cool, inky blackness of the depths,
And finally reach the surface, head bobbing like a balloon,
Frilly slits on my neck closing up and sealing, as I switch to breathing air.
I suck the thick oxygen atmosphere deep into my lungs, then exhale.
The detritus from my gills comes up with the first breath, and I spit it away,
(Small creatures that follow me, gobble it up hungrily ... nothing wasted).
I need not struggle swimming on the surface here -
The water's high saline level helps me float without effort,
So I lay back and stretch, relaxing my length, as if in a chaise lounge.
The bright purple sky dances with clouds, (and a couple of bright stars),
Two blood-red suns now low, nearing the horizon.
Though they never set, they do crimp the reach for many hours,
Before climbing again to make the sky near-blue.
Clouds are rarely white, (only when the suns are high),
But vary in shades from crimson to pink,
Again, depending on the time of day and moisture content.
I live above AND below the water here ...
My genetic alterations, (very expensive, thus),
Allow me to extract oxygen from air and water, easily transitioning.
I have long webbed toes and fingers to swim speedily,
Eyes that can detect ultraviolet and infrared,
And something similar to sonar, that I can search the depths with,
And also use to tap into the communication satellites,
As well as send personal messages to others here such as I,
Who have chosen the amphibious life of this purple planet.
I have a house back on the island, with all amenities,
But I rarely go there, choosing instead to spend most of my time
On or near the water, searching the depths for the edibles,
Or sleeping on the beach under the stars,
Composing music and poetry during the day, or visiting friends.
I send my work out onto the inter-world web,
It earns me enough to remain comfortable ... and happy.
But what I love the most, are the other intelligent creatures here ...
Most are "sea" dwellers, but all are non-aggressive.
Learning the language of each will take a lifetime,
But it is a labor of love, with joyous reward ...
Friendship!
From the violin of lady fair
soft classical notes fill the air.
soothing music floats through open french doors
carried on a summer breeze
billowing lace curtains
As I lie upon the chaise lounge
in and out of sleep I doze.
Sweet melody a lullaby.
Heavy eyelids begin to close.
Deep in my slumber
he comes to me in a dream.
In his arms I swoon
as we waltz to Blue Danube.
Forever let it play on.
Broken Wing's contest.
It's All About Four.
23/04/2018
I’d like an hour with a psychiatrist
To discover what I already know
A deep releasing conversation
Go places I dare not go
I’d lie back on a chaise lounge
I don’t care if it’s a woman or a man
I’d go deep into the recesses
As truthfully as I can
Maybe then I could sleep peacefully
Though I confess I’ve done nothing bad
I would understand who I really am
A piece of mum and dad.
My inner thoughts and fears
And all the things that scare
Maybe I’d burst into tears
Maybe, there's nothing to repair?
David Cox 01/07/22
My husband wants a big pussy - he's crazy,
draped over chaise-lounge in conservatory,
I said that it would cost a fortune to feed,
to have such an adornment, there is no need.
It would demolish the neighbour's tabby cat,
cause indentations, droppings, wherever it sat;
he said: 'Don't worry, I'll take it for trainimg,'
glimpses of rosettes whenever it's raining.
There might even be pregnant paws, pushing
me aside with it's ****, going thro' open doors,
I'll have to warn friends when they come round:
'It's sleeping now, for godssake don't make a sound.'
So forestall such grandiose ideas whatever you do,
I said to him: 'Please take that cat back to the bloody zoo!'
Everyone who has money
should drop it in a vat and
anyone who needs money
should take what they need
a Swede, a Dane and two
Norwegians tell Fred, also an
economist who flew in from Yale.
After a three-day seminar in the
Antarctic, the four men sit down
with tankards of ale, each comfy
in a chaise lounge chair on
an ice floe slowly melting.
Back at Yale, CNN interviews Fred
about his book on the seminar.
The CIA is now investigating.
Donal Mahoney
Lovely scented flowers,
hanging like clusters of grapes…
Covering my arbor, shading
the sun from my face…
Your scent sends me into
dreamland…
With my eyes closed, relaxing
on my chaise lounge and dreaming
of paradise…
No distracting sounds, a cool
breeze with mildly warm
temperature only enhances your
intense fragrance…
By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2009
Twenty cigarette ashes in the ivory ashtray
Symbol of the impatience burned as smoke
The inamorata sits in the pink chaise lounge
Waiting for inamorato arriving to love nest
Photos found under the bed tied off an arguing
Another affair developed without her knowledge
Feeling betrayed, although fidelity was not an asset
Stripped photos and dispersed pieces over the bed
Inamorato opened the bedroom door and screamed
Hidden dalliance loomed as as a storm in the future
Reproaches ended with the rupture of unlawful love
Leaving forever the tormentous and sinful romance
(Fictional)
Here everybody drains the swamp
The chunks of toxic glitter
And brazen meat
Intelligible only to the daunted fool
Who filled it so
Pour the acid wash
Of peace and indulgence
To cleanse the slop o’ plenty
Time for mixes and fixes
That clear paths meant
For hot-air balloon rides
The kind that tussle deep in minds
Your liquid child
Who gulps, swallows and bears
The scorekeeper’s duties
Flits to the sounds of no one
The barracks are full this morning
Everyone spent from their rustic tasks
And yet for each
An adventure conducted
A melee for the me, the you
Which song was meant for
Nature, well-planted
Well-colored and ready to play
Nurture, whipped and spun
By the gunslinger’s steady hand
Brought together by
The collective spirit
Lurking in each room
Strewn, lathered across
Each chaise lounge
Splashing, soaking
In the wet, cool debris
Healthy debris
Doggy bags supplied
To bring home
The leftovers
Eager to be consumed.
(6/10/18)
Word Sonata in B Flat (in 5 Movements)
You know exactly what you’re doing.
You sit in that short red skirt, and
Cross your shiny tan legs, there. Now you
Lean over with full cleavage exposed,
And partake in another draw of smoky seduction;
You can see the dollar signs in my knowing eyes,
And I can see lovely times at poolside,
In your short skirt, and dark glasses.
So cheers! To us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
With lemon drinks, glass bongs, and feathered toys,
Conversing wordlessly in eye language,
Under the searing unzipping sun,
Embracing the approaching nakedness.
Laying out in a chaise lounge with white noses,
Just drying out our souls and bodies,
Drying out our differences with the holding of a draw.
Pass it over here sweetie.
I feel it too, as you sit there,
Staring at me like I’m the package you were expecting,
Last week when the mails didn’t come through,
Due to the storm, and the mud and the misery.
I enjoy women like you.
As you sit there in your short red skirt.
There is a mysterious gloss covering everything you say,
A gooey gloss that smells of electrical wiring,
Something that might make a person sick,
Or maybe bring back a stubborn memory you forgot about
For decades, because you were lost,
Lost inside a rolled-up carpet,
An old rain-ruined rug from 1958, or so,
When times in the backseat meant something to a person.
Now look at us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
Bored and resigned,
Passing reefer until the stoned moment is realized.
Yes, just sitting here looking at you,
I can tell,
You know exactly what you’re doing.
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.
I rise up
Off the chaise lounge,
And greet the garden....
The tiger Lily’s
Are orange freckled faces
Soft as talc,
The morning dewdrops pose
Expanding like a ballerinas tutu.
Now I pause
To watch the roving buck
Pass through......like a
sentient being
The antlers are miniature trees reaching
to the sky,
Silent, he is the guardian of the
Countryside
In midsummer.
marigolds line the path to my outside home
it’s a cottage garden, which gives me joy
against the walls of my she-shed are tall pink hollyhocks
they look like upside down skirts with yellow bloomers showing
they are fuzzy if you graze them gently with a finger
there used to be roses, but they are gone now
a large potted fern waves a friendly hello as I approach
I feel loved here, among those I have planted and nurtured
Never knowing I had a green thumb until I retired.
The joy I derive from my plants cannot be put into words.
I sit back on the chaise lounge cushions and breathe
There is nothing as rejuvenating as country air.
Feeling refreshed. I am in awe of what I have built
apple blossoms above my head tease my eyes to the sky
I thank God for this garden.