Best Crepe Paper Poems
"Where flowers bloom, there is color, beauty and fragance, adding joy to life"~ By Poet
My garden now presents a lovely scene
So colorful with flowers unfolding their immaculate petals
And greeting me every morning
In varied shape and size and in sparkling shades
Among them are soothing little white flowers
Which open themselves at night in the lunar light,
Sensual red roses, multi shaded orchids
Flowers of pastel hues, colorful adeniums
And jasmines on creeping stems,
Intertwined and inseparable
Which send out a spray of heady aroma
When the gentle breeze sweeps past them
There are Bougainvillea’s of red, purple, and orange shades
Reflecting the iridescent colors of a setting sun
Rightly called paper flowers with their light weight
And lack of softness and synthetic appearance
These flowers, like torn pieces of crepe paper
Fly about with every sweeping wind,
Landing down scattered here, there and everywhere
Inciting mischief, but causing no harm
Pentas of lavender and white shade are seen
Nodding at butterflies wishing to be kissed and wooed.
Along with flowers grown in pots and soil
There are lovely water lilies in my little pond
Flowers brighten the indoors and outdoors
Lifting our mood and giving us immense joy
Oh Lovely maidens, you are one of a special kind
You bloom and smile for everyone to enjoy
But aren’t you there in my small garden,
Staying regal and proud especially for you and me?
Tinkling sounds of rain falling on shingled roofs
wild winds and chestnut horses galloping with hooves
Spruce trees breathing in the navy sky of June
Shimmering stars of heavenly bliss scintillating view
Rivers gurgling aside the brook as dusk arrives
A solitary lotus floating on the waters of China
Japanese lanterns and crepe paper magic
Night songs of longing and bravelings that cry
May I invite you for a walk across my wish bridge
together we can find the syncronocity of life.
my Valentine's rose
is made from red crepe paper
true love forever
Haiku I love U 2 Contest
Sponsored by James Edward Lee Snr
2/26/19
Miss Bahamian Culture
a woman who pledges loyalty
to put Bahama land from the time
she was conceived out of the womb
Miss Bahamian Culture
a woman who sheds the blood
of gold, black and aquamarine
straight from her veins
as she wakes up each morning
to the pulsing beat of Goombay drums
and cowbell singing in her ears
Miss Bahamian Culture
a woman who is a true cultural icon
always clothed in either Androsia Print
a costume of cardboard and crepe paper
or gold, black and aquamarine attire
from head to toe
Miss Bahamian Culture
a woman who is a pure nationalist
who always remember where her navel string was buried
in her place of birth and tropical sanctuary
regardless of where she travels in the world
whether it be in Miami, Cuba, Japan or Vancouver
Shadow trees
On gentle breeze, heave
and lip the edges of a sanctuary
Hallowed space, of union graced
In liminal hour
Protected
where dappled light plays cupid to our delight
Crepe paper garlands
Seek to adorn us
Fugitives in search of respite
No penetrating eye should moot
this canticle to umbral shine
nor prick the virtue of our plight
Unsteady mood of solace and peak
Shadow trees
In boundaries you speak
as we move on the fringes of the night -
Let me keep time
damned blue midnight
T'was a lovely summer evening
To a fancy dress party we are to go
Dressed up in crepe paper
as rainbows i have you know
We cut and sewed and stuck
Ra-raa skirts with bodice tops
Hats akimbo with moon and stars
We thought we looked the tops
Was difficult to sit down
As it crinkled and stuck to skin
So we leant and stood up
Glass in hand much more within.
Then it happened
Someone lit a cigarette in the toilet
Smoke alarms went off with might
Plus the sprinkler system, what a sight
Six very wet and dripping girls
Crepe paper hanging low
Someone grabbed the cloth's off the tables
To hide our modesty but ohh
A lovely view was made by all of us
Hair hanging down make up askew
Not a lot of clothing was worn
Just panties on a few.
If ever you use crepe paper
To make a fancy dress
Make sure you wear adequate clothing
Unless you want to do more than impress
the very first time I saw you
you totally captivated my heart
never had any idea or single clue
but I’m already in love with you since the start
just your name is such a beauty without a doubt
I could hardly believe that you’re real
until I’ve finally touched and held you one by one
falling down from those wand-like branches as in hail
carpeting the dark green bermuda grasses on the ground
with all my zest I gathered you gladly all around
your big round petals shine so bright like a brilliant sun
my faint notion that you’re a hand-made crepe paper
now has passed its way and finally gone
all I wish, when I dance you’ll adorn my hair
I’ll be proudly making you into garlands for a special affair
in my eyes, you’re one of the emblems of royalty
in this beautiful kingdom and lovely place
while local and foreign folks are all enjoying their stay
you’re providing them an atmosphere with solace
in your yellow color is a shaft of light for peace
Supannika, with my piquancy I am taking you home
to introduce you that you’re such a special kind
a radiant flower to float on water will lastly bloom
most especially I’ve a great idea in my mind
you’ll be a wonderful gift to my loved ones on Valentines
Written: Feb. 10, 2012
Second Place
Contest: Simple Title
Judged: 3/9/13
Poet Sponsor: Greatest Poet PD
Creating the canvas with silken thread
Each day with different colours weaving
On whitest linen in smallest stitches
The complexity of life I’m living
Red jelly and custard birthday parties
a childhood spent in lonely play
Crepe paper hats and satin costumes
Kite flying on a windy day
Sunshine yellow of early teen years
Pop idol screaming in the park
Hot pants, boas, and minis and maxis
Cow bells, music, moon walks in the dark
Shocking pink in early womanhood
living dangerously on last tube home
first job jitters, first date delights
while family snaps to monochrome
Rich dark purple of dreams destroyed
Bleeding wounds traced in crimson thread
Tear tracks, pills, and Empty purses
Disillusioned, discarded, life filled with dread
But then the scarlet of surrender
The blush of finding first true love
Warmth of babes, new lives beginning
The tangerine joy of motherhood
Now the lavender skein is needed
As the empty phase begins
How my coloured garden sows those
Wild brown wrinkles on the skin
The final years with wizened fingers
forging murals bittersweet
‘til only the blackest thread remains
the tapestry will be complete
I watched as they flew home this night
Impoverished as the ground below them
Like an armada dark-sailed, secret,
mysterious, focused and grim
Full stops on the landscape outside
Dark, as if comma'd winged exclamation,
Ripping skies like black crepe paper
Opportunists painted in grey concentration.
taunting the sky with raggedy fingers
Crows draw heavy their charcoal line,
then a moment stop still, to swoop
Never resting before its wail and cry,
Hundred louvres to measure out time
Like doors on their back galling
Glimpses that revealed nothing
Dark demons soar high, then falling
Prom
Crepe Paper Streamers
Glitter and Fuss
Fancy Dresses You Can Never Use Again
At exorbitant prices
Fancy Tuxedos
Rented Until the last two don't get one.
Limo.
What?
It's not a wedding, people. It's a prom!
Few will dance.
Most of the boys will stand around
Uncomfortable, stiff in their clothes.
It will be too dark to see the pretty dresses.
Girls will run up to each other, link
arms, and run out,
to the bathroom
For God only knows what purpose.
More lipstick and rouge?
Impossible really
We're all holding our stomachs in,
Steak sauce is now on Jill's dress
The night is ruined.
C rinkley lines upon angel wings
R ippling in air to songs that ring
E ntertain some people as they view
P eevish part of the body fair
E arth bound wings some despair
P alsied shaking covered in summer
A bashed the feelings when wings don't become her
P assable but beauty now flawed
E dwardian dress now applaud
R emember when it happens a bummer
Sheila dressed carefully, greeting first love in fits of anticipation,
Amid glittering disco ball promoting twenty-fifth year class reunion,
Drum master is at play, thumping Sheila’s traitorous heartstrings
Heart seizes brain’s logic. Goodness! There he is now!
Exposing her heartfelt imagined playoff,
Lifetime daydream of being saved, is rapidly diminishing
Hyena laugh from stage left startles. Room regains color
Crepe paper reality slaps her when face offs begin.
Who are these people? They look old. Did they graduate with her?
Happily ever after daydreams dissipate rapidly. He has not looked this way.
He is a classmate who can barely stand, apparently drinking heavily.
Indisputable reality climbs onto Sheila’s back, grinning wickedly. Mean.
Blatant truth hangs onto fat bellies, sneering over belt buckles.
He is no longer her true love who got away, just a sad alcoholic of a man.
Unrecognizable, flipping her daydream into a solid nightmare.
Throwing themselves into each other’s arms tonight is laughable really.
Sheila’s dream Prince Charming is not coming, for he has turned into a frog.
And not a pretty one, quick to anger, not the sweet boy she had known.
The love of her life pretended not to remember her. Surrounded by self-walls.
She turned to her husband Jim and smiled. “Let’s dance,” She said.
The lonely boy who had been pining for his lost love for years laughed.
She is uppity now, he told himself. She is nothing like I remember.
Daydreams up in smoke, with all of his other dreams and life goals.
This would be his last reunion. He watched his dream princess dance.
Like colors seeping through a hazed prism
Our evening talks drift with lyricism-
Sky turns to crepe paper on all dream’s bends
Where ripple of fire-glow lightly descends,
Roaming around your hair in a cluster
Stylized by Orion of forever-
I pull my arms to climb your northern star
There, our flights turn into orbits, lunar
And astral while my body darts to glide;
Till clouds halt a bright trance, I sigh inside.
Contest: Love for Movie Screens
Sponsor: Silent One dated 2 Oct 2017
Safe within these four walls
My new apartment is swell
But, what's that noise next door?
Is that my neighbors doorbell?
I'm attracting nosey eyes
When company comes over
We have to speak in whispers
Or wake up their dog "Grover"
Neighborhood ears await
Even when I take a "Whiz!"
Crepe Paper Apartments
Everyone knows your "Biz!"
We all had homemade dresses for prom; well, nearly all of us.
This was back in 1970 while black and white Viet Nam War photos were on TV
Every night, we saw such sadness.
Prom was a reminder of childhood.
Back to the Bibbity Bobbity Boo of Cinderella.
We girls were wearing empire waist dresses.
It was the style, little bows at the top of our hair.
We were fancy poodles, primping in our two inch heels.
Not high ones like our mothers. We had already fallen off those.
Traded in our hip hugger bell bottoms that magical night
For dresses in chiffon, polished cotton, and satins.
We were so shiny, it is a miracle a murder of crows did not carry us off.
The boys had on their best suits; not tuxes.
We were in a small Iowa farm town.
Many of the couples would marry two weeks later after graduation.
I remember how hard the junior class worked to make it beautiful for us.
There were tin foil stars and crepe paper streamers everywhere.
A strobe light, and music piped in from the folk heroes of the time.
Peter Paul and Mary, Mama Cass, Simon and Garfunkel.
Sometimes a song by Cher or Bette Midler but not as often.
The food was fantastic. The company wonderful.
Our first semi-formal dinner. I have never forgotten it.
In one way it was like middle school which we called junior high.
The boys stood around talking and laughing, and the girls danced like mad.
It was such an innocent and fun time! Taking the Viet Nam War,
And the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King
Out of our minds for one magical bibbity bobbity boo night.
May 1970. A memory that uplifts me to this day.
The last time I spoke to some of my classmates.
As a few were sent to Viet Nam after graduation never to return.