Best Chapping Poems
Two pairs of pants, three pairs of socks, a pair of boots.
Welcome to winter.
Snow pants make me look fat, I will not wear them.
My hoodie is not warm enough; my face is all red.
Welcome to winter.
Where is the other mitten? My favorite pair. One is gone.
Lost out of my pocket.
Welcome to winter.
Everyone is coughing. Flu is rampant. People are mean.
Welcome to winter.
Children are laughing. Catching snowflakes with their faces.
Licking their lips sore. Chapping their faces.
Welcome to winter.
Children are sledding, bumping into each other, rolling like puppies,
Smashing their fingers, and laughing.
Losing their mittens, and not noticing.
Their hands are all red.
They refuse to go in.
They have never had so much fun!
Delight is on their faces.
Welcome to winter.
Pushing back the snow,
the barn door slowly opens
against the drifts.
Inside smells are rich and warm.
Hay and straw and animals mix
sparking memories of a long ago stable.
The tarp is heavy,
but uncovers a shiny red sleigh.
Runners honed to a keen shushing edge.
Sounding of hooves on wooden floor
Snorting his readiness to go.
Harness tight, bells in place
Isinglass heater under a buffalo robe,
cuddling close,
let’s go!
We disappeared into plumes of snow off galloping hooves,
with mane flying in the breath of nostrils flaring.
Sleigh bells singing their song in rhythm of beating hooves,
crisp air and joyful hearts cuddle under robes of excitement
racing, racing
Caps pulled down over ears,
cheeks chapping, hands clasping,
hearts racing,
faster ... faster ... faster ...
Still, in my pajamas, cold, ‘tis Winter.
Purple and gray wool socks, and still, cold feet.
Yet i’d walk down into the oaks, with sun’s
light be soaked, at the Summer-plumed heartbeat.
Into the glowing moss and down the hill,
like my grand, who’d make glorious foothold
into the street. Still, alone, basking in
happiness, woolen feet waltzing, toes cold,
knuckles chapping, clapping of my steepled
fingers. dry and joyful lips, arising,
Dizzy, I'd survey the amphitheater -
steam of cold-heat, underfoot apprising.
O my soul, the crooning blue signature,
expansive, inexpensive, pensive sky.
Behold God’s goodness directed my way.
Though fibbing from inside, I do not lie.
The arms of my chair, still, caring, hold me
or i’d jetty into my imagination.
There the birds stir up woozy fairyland
with tea and serenity’s coronation.
2/10/2021
Contest: All Yours (Feb 10)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
If desire crests from craven heart
On my duplicitous eyes won't chart
With clever guise will deliver Cupid's dart
From ducts, drain silt that lust does cart
Only sentient strain from dilated pupils impart
Through mind's eye, residual glare will kick start
If grifting ears strain only lurid rhythms to hear
To sift only the tawdry jingles that decorum jeer
With modular shift will Jove's hypnotic cadence sear
Melodic parlance with romantic vibes will ring clear
With only rational discourse your sterile drums cheer
If drooling lips seek with Venus's frothy dew endear
And impulsive lips cannot from sumptuous strips veer
A chapping balm on the puckering seams I'll smear
With arresting bitters saliva from taste buds shear
Onto comely face a dry, innocuous kiss will steer
Miss First January canoed from the clouds
And anchored right beside Mr. Midnight
Red flower on the right, a book on the left
Traveling bag strapped on her back
Balancing a steaming pot on the head
A pen in front pocket of long white dress
With a rapture of piercing beckoning smile
She aired fleeting breath “this year, this year”
Could the fate of the year be in the book?
Could it be in the steaming pot on balance?
Is the fate with the red flower or the book?
No jubilation action can paste the answers
The fireworks, ululations, chip-chapping
The chickens’ tears and twisting of waists
Are nothing but prayers of hope of the blind
As the truth for the year may be in the bag
The trees in Pennsylvania
never seem to diminish.
They stand just as tall in summer green
as they do beneath a weight
of winter snow. I wish that I could say
the same goes for me,
but the winter breaks me --
chapping my lips and turning my skin
shades of purple and blue. It reminds me
I am small and weak.
A strong wind could bring me
to my knees. The only other thing
that has such an effect on me
is you.
my lips are chapping
from wind blowing in my face
need hot chocolate
with marshmallows on the top
winter’s magical cure-all
written December 8, 2021
I need spring!
I want some spring!
I want it now So I can sing.
My lips are frozen From Winter’s ice;
Being frozen is just not nice.
Why in my yard, are frozen mice!
I’ll have to bury them right away;
Even though it’s cold and grey,
They’ll start to stink, any day.
I hate this cold, it burns my nose;
My legs are chapping, despite the hose;
Why I can’t even feel my toes!
I want to see Spring’s lovely face;
I’d like to spray winter’s face, with mace;
To keep it away from my home place.