Best Front Door Poems
Visit a place where you’ve not been before
And the first thing you face is the sturdy front door.
Of fiberglass, oak, tempered glass, even steel,
The entryway should have a certain appeal.
My country home door, though, was streaky with rust.
The paint was all puckered, the cracks filled with dust.
The glass in the windows no longer got clean;
My husband was tired of changing the screen.
So I finally gave in and we got a new door,
A portal to spiff up the entry décor.
It isn’t embellished, just simple and plain
But it’s neat, a condition I hope to maintain.
When visitors come, they may notice or not
For most likely, the old one was one they forgot
But I’ll welcome them all with the door opened wide
And embrace every one that I usher inside.
he said Come,
stay with me.
be my girlfriend,
we shall dance and sing,,,
will give you flower ring
will fly high with soar wings
will sit upon rocks,
Seeing birds in flocks,
walk by shallow rivers,
ooh watch valleys hills and fields,
woods, groves and mountain yields,
nightingale singing melodies,
peacock dancing wings open,
squirrels giggling kissing,
deer hunting lover down.
will make flower bed,
million fragrant roses,
a gown made of Fuchsia,
pink blue slippers for cold,
a necklace of diamond gold,
he said Come
stay with me,
be my girlfriend.
She whispers in winds
as limbs dance.
I’m back she says-
I’ve come back
from the frozen ground.
In her left hand
a bag of seeds
and I steal a glance
out the window
as she stands on the porch.
She says she’s my dreams-
she says she’s a god
bringing to life
a lawn turned brown
and to a bare patch of ground.
She is
the kiss of sunlight
the soft voice
of a barmaid enthralled
who watched me sing.
I tell her
she’s all I need.
Spring, she is
timeless and free
as she holds a lily
meant for me.
February 28,2023
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Joseph May
I broke the front door
I was so angry last night
It fell to the floor
We introduce new words to Henry
Every time we’re there.
He soaks up everything we say;
He’s focused and aware.
He knows the numbers of his house
And all the words as well
That describe the door and entry way –
The mailbox, knocker, bell.
But I’d never pointed out a sight
I remedied today –
Those two columns near the entrance –
Column B and Column A!
Every day I pass it by
This house of solid wood,
I would like to go inside,
If only that I could.
It has a large veranda
All across the front
And lovely dormer windows
Where the occupants look out.
Each time that I walk by it
I feel the warmth inside,
It makes me want to run away
From the outside world and hide.
The curtains on the windows
Are made from pure white lace,
I have to stop and stare awhile
And wish this was my place.
There is no pain or sorrow here
They're not rich, nor are they poor,
Only love, and solitude
Behind the white front door.
I know it's hard to understand
No problems.....not a trace,
This house is not on any street,
It sits on my fireplace.
You see it's just a doll house
Not real in any way,
But it gives me inner peace
When I see it every day.
And sometimes when I'm feeling down,
And have lost my faith within,
I look behind the white front door.
Perhaps they'll let me in.
Lynn Barany
open beaks of Spring —
baby birds in choral chirp
hungry for a worm
5/7/2019
Out my front door; I know the way,
but to what end, I cannot say.
Encumbered by my earthly things,
no seraphim, on stainless wings
I skyward launch into the cloud.
Once Icarus, a boy too proud,
brought low to once again embark
and hurtle headlong in the dark
towards unfamiliar continent,
there, rest assured and be content.
Though I knew not, it was ordained
just to what end His purpose gained
by adding to the manifest
a guy who never would have guessed
the vector of his present course
or scarce believed its gracious source.
----------
for A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
sponsored by Brian Strand
written on 04/05/2022
New front door key
If your lock wont keep out a friend.
Check the house for other locks {same}is the trend,
if it has also a key,
do like I did diddlee did de,
swap the key barrells over ,
and a new front door has key,
that wont open ah heheheh...
till you use the right key, poor Rover....
Don Johnson
A FRONT DOOR DU JOUR
It might be because I broke so many rules
It might be because I followed too many fools
It might be due to the life I have led
And that’s why I am halfway dead
Perhaps it was the voice of thunder
Or the spell I swiftly fell under
I followed the wrong cohorts into catastrophe
On days when I lived between an apostrophe
I had a need for a needle and syringe
And soon my devastation would make my lovers cringe
Brightness became darkness that invaded
When all my hopes too quickly faded
There were days of blood and scars revealed
And everyone wondered if I’d ever be healed
There was no magic to make of me a man
And God knows I was following Satan’s plan
Righteousness closed its eyes to me
And foolishness seemed so wise to me
But taking the wrong staircase led to a fall of grace
So thus I promptly became a hopeless case
I summarily fell through a crack
And became the flaw that broke this mammel's back
No one could pull me from the wreckage of a mind
Because there was no comfort for a man like me to find
A rock became my pillow du jour
And my cardboard box had no front door
A subway grating became my nighttime bed
And that’s why I am halfway dead
© 2012…copyright PHREEPOETREE..~free cee!~
To the front door they do come
Many witches and goblins shine
Seeing my house they’re overcome
For the decorations are all in line
Scary enough for even the divine
Jack-O-Lanterns are lit from inside
And skeletons laying on their side
Children love my house at night
And the candy they get they set aside
For its time to play, it’s quite a sight
Russell Sivey
My wooden front door holds an empty cross.
I use shimmering scraps, and lower cost.
Many oval shapes sports colors of Xmas.
Simplicity holds beauty, taped for us.
I hold to belief, we are all artist.
Hands of change showers us on short notice.
I ponder ways of the Holy Spirit.
Each one of us suited with good habits.
Quiet ambience of my foyer rocks.
Profound Rock of ages, forget us not.
Inside my front door beams an empty cross.
One, and only One of might, paid the cost.
*
5/1/21
Entry for: Janice Canerdy's 'Rhyming Couplet' contest
Untitled Haiku, He Brought
to front door he brought daffodils
gem blue eyes
past loves like dried leaves fell
—————————————————————————-
(C) sally Young Eslinger 1/2021
Amidst the neighborhood's gentle sway,
I find solace by my front door's embrace.
The world outside may rush and fray,
But here, tranquility finds its rightful place.
The sun casts its golden rays upon my face,
As I sit and ponder life's sweet reverie.
In this stillness, time begins to erase,
And worries, like whispers, softly flee.
Neighbors pass by with a friendly smile,
Their voices mingling in harmonious cheer.
The symphony of life, even for a while,
Fills my heart with joy, sincere and clear.
Oh, front door, my loyal companion true,
In your presence, I find peace anew.
Word Lyric For Music #3
“Finding Repast at the Front Door”
Melissa and her sister are on the floor,
Dancing in circles without shoes, as before,
Dancing like tomorra’ might not shine,
Sipping white whales and bottles of red wine,
They were seeking a brace of yes men, heretofore,
Now they’re finding repast at the front door.
Older dudes with cigarettes dangling,
Said no with wives in tow;
Melissa and her sister stopped angling,
And found the limbo stick set down low,
They begged Tired Ed not to lower it anymore,
Now they’re finding repast at the front door.
Late night promises made with a glass of rum,
Melissa’s sister dancing to a delirious drum;
She’s beckoning the boys to get down low,
And with wives in tow, as before,
The old dudes and Tired Ed got down on the floor,
But Melissa and her sister, heretofore,
Were finding repast at the front door.