Best Decorating Poems
in front of the house
two big Maple trees stand out
suddenly an idea
decorate both trees
lights were wand around both trees
instead of doing bushes
In front the house
Two big Maple Trees stand out
Suddenly an idea
Decorate both trees
Lights were wand around the trees
Instead of doing bushes
The shaded truth is hard to catch
Since color's so easy to patch
A licensed MD
Has the odd luck to see
The carpet and drapes might not match
‘Twas December, two thousand two;
Christmas, of course, and my main thought -
Decking the halls on Tye Avenue.
With a broken leg, I’m in a stew,
my house, the only bare spot.
‘Twas December, two thousand two.
Grandkids, my volunteer work crew,
tied my heart in a granny knot.
decking the halls on Tye Avenue.
Porch lights strung, manger scene askew,
my approval, they earnestly sought.
‘Twas December, two thousand two.
Front window tree, last thing to do;
they attack it, never being taught.
Decking the halls on Tye Avenue.
Year to remember, grandkids, do you?
a Christmas I have never forgot.
‘Twas December, two thousand two;
Decking the halls on Tye Avenue.
December 28, 2020
contest: Deck the Halls (Villanelle)
sponsor: Joseph May
Decorating Silence
by Odin Roark
How deafening the stillness
Where once did tinkling chimes hang above
Welcoming doors opening
When snow-clad galoshes padded innocently
While a snow covered canine
Did wag
Did pant
Did shake
How distant the Lionel train
Making its rounds about the tree
Its smoke stack puffing
Its timid whistle sounding
How comforting
The fragrance of conifer drippings
The string draped popcorn boughs
The reflective glass balls of red
Green
Yellow
And clear
How memorable these reflections
Love’s time past
When simple butcher paper
Newspaper
Brownbag wrapped gifts
Needed but a piece of red string
To bring a smile
Aged appreciation nods
Snapshots remain
Remembrance fixes frozen moments
Standing warm and supportive
Rising from the flames
How faithful my fire
The stone encased resuscitator
Able to keep safe
Those undulating mirages
Never out of reach
Always ready to arouse
Performing the yearly dance
Beneath moist overcast eyes
Ever glistening
Time fades
Fireplaces stand ready
Nostalgia’s faithful friends know well
Decorated silence remains
But a simple rekindling away
I rode daily through Waterbury rocky hills
when Spring and Fall enchanted drivers
who saw evergreen tops vacillate over dreamy landscapes;
and between then and now...Autumn
still dazzles me more with its flaming red leaves
decorating highway trees, one never feels afraid or alone.
Stop to admire jessamines and sweet peas cling to reddish barks,
as they spread their aroma while sunshine makes lightening sparks
among wide branches bearing no fruit of any kind;
take the same highway and watch deers run wild!
Notation: Waterbury, CT
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Russell Sivey's contest,
" Autumn Splendor "
Decorating
“But what is real? If you mean those impulses and signals sent by your senses
and which are then interpreted by your brain. Then the real can be anything
your mind desires.”
Morphius.
The Matrix.
When a child opens its eyes
Awareness blossoming
New upon the day
Does it then envision
A clean blank page
To be coloured
To be decorated as it desires
Should all those hues and images
Then be given a name
Yet
What would be
If the child could see
Things that were not the same
In each and every second
These myriad patterns of light
React
To thoughts born from learning
Labelled with a voice which says “this” is
This
And “that” is
That
Yet a blank page emerges
Each and every single day
But written and coloured
By acceptance
In the same new way
But
What if for a moment
You dream
And decorate your world
Differently
What then would the eyes of the liberated
See
Would they see the world
As is
Or see repainted coherency
Or would there be
A moment of birth
Where awareness
Sees through
And beyond reality
And sees with the eyes
of a newly born
Child
A daily place of spirit
Life and light
A spoken place
Where all form
Takes on the form
Of the heavenly blank page
Of light
Where on
Is written
All possibility
And your mind
Decorating
The universe infinitely
Or will mere whim transform
To what it might be
The photons and the fabric of stars
Could we then hold creations dust
In our palms
And with a breath of splendour
Puff beauty into being
Should thought
Become a brush stroke then
Would we sweep and stride
With such a capable hand
The essence of magnificence
A new world
To greet
Our waking eyes
Or is this
What we have come to see
The ballet of light as it settles
Within us
Daily
Some other wonder
Some other hand
Which says
See what I have wrought for you
From the physical tongues of
Eternity
But I know you
People of Earth
And I know the multitude of your dreams
And how
Given the power of your imaginings
You could decorate so diversely
All these things
Which seem now so
Ordinary
Is it but a moment
A second
Of perception
Or a reaction
Predetermined by acceptances
Indoctrination
What where those things
We began to see
When as a new born child
Our eyes first
Opened
On the fireplace floor spread
One wooden tree Santa and deer
The top of the mantel stands
Four nutcrackers one very tall
Two are the same height short
Lights placed on the bottom lit4e
A Christmas tree decorated
From top to bottom
With lights red and white
then red and green balls
Two red bids are hung
Followed by white beads
strung
Then the gnome is placed on
top
Poor Mrs.Lotty became so confused,
But because of her age she's excused.
She adores decorating.
But what she is creating,
Has the neighborhood somewhat amused.
On Halloween she put up her trèe.
There were ghosts in the nativity!
Santa wore a pilgrim hat,
The tree topper was a bat!
None could fault her creativity.
The wreath made of fall leaves on the door,
Was decked out and like never before.
Pumpkin, snowman, and turkey,
Seemed to me a bit quirky.
But it was festive, that is for sure!
I want to attach stuff to the ceiling of my house.
The house is full, the walls are saturated. The ceiling is blah.
All white, boring, basic, not quite clean, but bland.
The tables are cluttered, no one has decorated their house more.
Any thing I ever truly liked is on a wall somewhere.
If you gave me something and it is not on a wall, I did not like it.
At all. Even a bit.
The only room in my house I have not touched is my husband’s bathroom.
I have not really touched his office either, but he has confiscated all of other
People’s paintings because we paid for them and only liked them for thirty
Years and put them up there himself, nose to nose, butt to butt.
There is one measly solitary picture in his bathroom, plain, a bit of green.
Wordless.
Plain black frame.
Not my style.
I cannot even go in there.
I am looking at the ceiling fans in the livingroom right now.
If I puncture little holes in the ends of the ceiling fans, I might be able to hang something.
Water guns or match books or barrettes or salt and pepper shakers or something.
I know better than to try to attach stuff to the ceiling
Made of flimsy ceiling tile.
We barely escaped a lawsuit once
When 42 of them fell down, missing an
Insurance man by a couple of inches.
Wasn’t that awkward too, as he had just insured this little beauty.
They are supposedly up better now with better wires.
But with craftsmen being sneaky these days,
Do you really trust that?
Moving along. The cupboard knobs in the kitchen look insanely blah.
Everyone oohing and ahhing over another blah house
Decorated so wonderfully. What? Are you kidding? Nothing special.
Boring at best. Blah. Tans and browns. Excuse me. Apricot and almonds.
Sheesh!
Decorating. A multi-million dollar business. Every house the same as the last five.
I cannot ooh or awe. I sit in disbelief that people are so easily satisfied with these clip clop houses.
No more interesting than a rusty horse shoe, which is sometimes found in some of them.
Disgusted, I turn off the TV knowing the other show I used to watch is full of glass houses.
Each almost exactly the same – with their sixty thousand dollars worth of windows.
Satisfied with my neons and my pops of vibrant colors, my oranges, and my purples,
I turn on my black light and stare in amazement that I have managed to make a haven
With color galore, out of my own sweet imagination, by following my heart.
Apricot and almonds. Blah! My colors are jalapeno, tomato, and carrot so there!
Before the snow spreads
Or it gets colder outside
Everyone decides to trim
Their homes on the outside
If they have bushes lights
would be put onto bushes
Or a bare tree dressed in
colorful lights
Some lights would be red-
green,white,blue
Others would be red, green
All on a bare naked tree
These lights would be shinning
All houses on the street
Decorated in their own style
Row on rows of pretty lights
In the darkness breath taking
delight
It's the second week of December.
Christmas of course is my first thought
and the cards I should be writing instead of this.
Unwrapped gifts are over-running the closet
so I can't find my shoes.
I must get out my Santa collection,
my grandson has asked twice already
remembering some from last year that I don't.
He keeps re-arranging my display of angels
already set up down in the basement.
I found my new shining star hanging
in the middle of my Christmas tree
Last year, he moved my glass snowman and
put it with my "glass" nativity scene
because it looks better there.
Right in there with Mary, the baby
and the Wise Men - a snowman.
Did I miss Matthew's mention
of snow in the Christmas story?
I couldn't move it now if I wanted to.
November 25, 2022
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge - Write A Christmas Poem
Rescue me from boughs of folly
Tra la la la la, such misery
‘Tis the time to make most jolly
Tra la la la, la, it’s blizzardly.
Heavy coats and boots we’re wearin’
Tra la la la la, la … la, la, la!
Department Santas, they’s a-swearin’
Tra la la la la … la, la, la, la!
Why can’t I find all the presents
Tra la la la la, it’s such a drag,
Things on back order for us peasants
Tra la la la, la, a fretful lag.
Shopping’s such a painful process
Tra la la la la, la … la, la, la!
So far I’m having little success
Tra la la la la, la … la, la, la, la!
[Sing to the tune of “Deck the Halls”]
A parody written December 1, 2021.
Thanks to Terry Flood for the inspiration!
we decorated the living room, bathrooms, bedrooms and TV
Threw tinsel on the ceiling, decorated the toilet with pure glee.
Christmas comes but once a year, so we do it up the best we can.
The cat was hiding from the festivities behind a big blue fan.
“There he is!” a grandchild cried, and the chase was on.
They chased Poindexter upstairs for grandma Carolyn Lee was gone.
When she returned they had decorated her angry cat.
Got scratched up too, deserved it, blood on the welcome mat.