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...

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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...

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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,...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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