Best Galoshes Poems
rain dance
Evil takes his victory lap
while ashes like confetti fall.
But demons stay their hands mid-clap,
now doubting they’ve won, after all...
For on the charred and war-stained sands,
Hope, in pink galoshes stands.
September 29, 2019
Make IT Six Contest
Picture #4
Joseph May, Sponsor
I am water, precious water, the most important source
of life on earth. Master of all shape shifters, I am ever
moving and changing my appearance. When temperatures
dip low enough, I show my freezing solid state of ice
in crystallization and softly enchant you with my beauty
in the form of snowflakes; each tiny flake uniquely different.
Skaters skate on my glassy ice lake and skiers fly down
from mountain top runs. My snowy sleigh rides romance.
I am a requisite for every thirsty plant or tree as they display
their dance with me in transpiration and in evaporation.
My magical cloak covers almost three quarters of the earth.
As the seasons change I cordially oblige offering sleet or hail,
then without a backward glance, I waltz with spring in showers.
With my precipitation lovely blooming trees accept hydration.
Children with impermeable galoshes splash delightfully in
shallow puddles I have created. Lilac blossoms drift into placid
lakes where tourists flock, come summer, to swim and play.
I meander through tall pines in mysterious misty fog in fall, then
invigorate the earth each morning with diamond dew drops.
I invite all to travel on my salty seas as my foamy waves splash
upon the shore. I leave you awestruck with towering waterfalls
and swift flowing rivers for white water rafting or fishing in
quiet solitude. My waters provide food and drink for a hungry
thirsty world. Look to my lofty clouds to know there is a heaven!
4-9-16
Contest Elements Part 3: Water
Sponsor Brian Davey
1) HYDRATION
(2) REQUISITE
(3) PRECIPITATION
(4) IMPERMEABLE
(5) INVIGORATE
(6) CRYSTALLIZATION.
i’m under weather
tissues are my umbrella
socks, my galoshes
11/15/2021
Slosh Sploshes
in my Galoshes
reveling in the rain
Muddle Muck
I am a Duck
and cannot be contained
Flap Slap
something Madcap
waddling soaking wet
My mother says
I am the Muddiest
thing she has ever met!
The Anticipation of Snow
David J Walker
No matter how old I grow
The anticipation of snow
Beckons the memories of my feet
Deep in rubber boots
We called galoshes
Stepping into a virgin white
World of crisp cold
The crunching sound of
Crushing snow to the ground
Below leaving the footprints of tread
Evidence of boys and girls
In a playground world of winter
The picture window in the front room
Framed the storm from the warmness of
Our house where falling snow is quietly accepted
Its joy is in the arrival
Its secrets in the style of survival
The bitterness excepted
And the face of each snowflake a
Fingertip printed in the icy touch of winter
No matter how much may fall
You cannot count them all
Banked by the snowplows at night
Oh, blessed Spring I have been waiting for you it seems forever,
Let me throw off this winter coat and put on my raincoat and galoshes;
I love your blue skies and even rain showers that clean the earth,
Delightful spring flowers are sprouting, the violets and tulips are lovely;
Everything is awakening, baby birds are chirping and baby squirrels scampering.
Oh, beautiful Summer, I have planted seeds in my rainbow garden,
I have my sandals, sundresses in pretty colors and picnic basket ready;
On forest hikes I will go, to the breezy beach and leisurely walks in the park,
When days are sun-drenched hot, I will find a shade tree to rest and ponder;
I love even your thunderstorms and showers that make the earth flourish and grow.
Oh, Autumn I adore your changing foliage, the falling leaves and coolness,
A crackling fireplace on a breezy fall evening, dreams of pumpkin pie;
Halloween and all the kids, Thanksgiving turkey with stuffing and apple cider,
After, we will rake the multi-colored leaves, crisp and tattered, the smell divine;
Everything is turning, changing, soon animals and me will be hibernating in warmth.
Oh, Winter my beloved, I love you the most of all, we are linked in spirit,
I was born in a winter snowstorm, it was bitter cold, the day pure white with snow;
Your brisk cold breath is so frosty, your delicate lacy snowflakes are a delight,
Christmas trees and Christmas Day, snowmen and gingerbread men so cheerful;
Yes, I know you have a temper and can get quite gusty and nippy, and ice-kissed.
______________________________
April 4, 2016
Poetry/Verse/I Love All The Seasons
Copyright Protected, ID 16-774-662-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem Written April 2016
sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
_________________________
Submitted to the contest, Seasons
Sponsor, Shadow Hamilton
Sixth Place
I was standing in my dining room, drinking a cup of coffee, staring out the window the other day. Across the street is the school bus stop, so for a brief time, each morning there stands a collection of young students, mindlessly milling around until the bus arrives. Of note is that this is winter time in Maine. Temperatures in the teens and twenties are the norm. Yet, there stood at least two boys, wearing parkas and, to my surprise and chagrin, shorts. What is the matter with kids today.
Then I thought about when I was a kid and how my mother would always be concerned that, when in my teens, I never buttoned or zipped up my coat. Didn't bother me near as much as it did her.
Where I grew up, there were no yellow buses. We all walked to school. In the summer, it was fun to jostle with your friends, sharing lies and tall tales with each other. But in the winter, it was quite something else again. Mom would dress us in the kitchen. Padded snow pants over which she would pull on and snap up a pair of rubber boots. They were called galoshes then. Next came a scarf over which a frayed but warm coat was buttoned, all the way up to the neck. Lastly, my prized leather aviator cap with shear-ling lined ear flaps, and of course, the requisite mittens, which when very young, were pinned to our sleeves.
Our books were carried in an old green book bag, cinched at the top and thrown over our shoulder, or more often then not, swung around or dragged during our school ward journey. Funny how I remember all this , but I don't remember ever being cold, even when my face was apple red. It was just something you did. If you weren't going to school, you would be playing outside anyway. Winter was subjective.
So when you hear the stories from your grandpa about how he used to walk to school in waist high snow and how the trip was uphill, both ways, you may want to think back on the fun you had, and how much those kids across the street are missing.
“Think outside the box!!”
Damn, as I age it’s become…….
“Stay out of the box.”
It’s mind over matter.
If you don’t mind……
it don’t matter.
Fine wine mellows
Good cheese ages…….
We …. get old.
Before you do something stupid
check the birth date…
on your drivers license.
Don’t have a drivers license
then you’re too young
or too old………………..
to do something that stupid.
If your phone rings….
Damn you really are old.
When the sales clerk asks
“Do you have any questions?”
you ask…
“What’s the capitol of South Dakota”
you are old…..
and still a smart ass.
Any request that requires
moving from your favorite chair……
elicits a “Why”.
If your version of the “good old days”
includes walking to school, carrying
a lunch, going out to play, heating
water for a bath, galoshes,
or Christmas…………..
GET IN THE BOX…..
John G. Lawless
11/2/2015
Galoshes over my shoes
raincoat zipped up high
Umbrella to protect my head
but that puddle can't be denied
Splash! Splash! puddle jumping
Splash! Splash! puddle jumping
I'm not to blame
the puddle called my name
Let it rain let it pour
it's fun getting wet for sure
Splish and splash, Splash and splish
getting as wet as you wish
Dive right in dance around
getting wet like a happy clown
If mom ask why you didn't avoid the puddle
just smile sweet with a face a fuddle
Get wet get soaked
stomp that water fall and float
Laugh out loud while drenched
puddle jumping is fun cinch
Runny nose and slight chill
mom restrains the urge to kill
Off to bed covers tight
hear the raindrops deep into the night
Sleepy head fast asleep
cozy socks on little feet
End of rainbow slides into a puddle
happy memories our hearts cuddle
G..long, G..long, G..long,
It was so intriguing
The G..long sound
Trumpeting elephant?
No elephant here said..
Greville the greedy goat,
Sim the swaying giraffe
even Lind the chaffinch.
In deprecating way
Vee then laughed mockingly
Well, he couldn't help it
Being a hyena!
Exasperated Saul
determinedly stamped off
to ask Arc, the owl
He found him fast asleep
G..long, G..long, G..long
said Saul in Arc's right ear
Fluttering his feathers
Arc woke suddenly
Then eyeball to eyeball
Saul asked Arc politely.
"What makes a G..long sound?"
Silence was prevailing
until they both jumped at..
hearing the "sound!"
G..long, G..long, G..long!
Saul ran and Arc flew down
Here was the distinct sound,
which was getting nearer,
Saul's capuchin monkey
Kareen came into view.
Arc peered downwards
WHAT WAS ON..... Kareen's feet?
OVERSIZED GALOSHES!!!
G..long, G..long, G..long!
Was heard the flapping sound
As Kareen, head held high,
nonchalantly strolled by
Saul and Arc exchanged looks
Arc's disapproving one
with Saul's embarrassment
glowing red on his cheeks.
Saul beat a quick retreat
As Arc chuckled aloud! ......
My galoshes were covered in rain,
I thought, “oh my word! This is a pain!”
But my shoes were found dry,
so I never did cry,
soggy water they seemed to retain.
Before I got home I saw the mess,
I lifted my foot and felt distress.
Doggie doodoo on it,
I did throw a great fit,
my life can't expect anything less!
So I hurried and ran to the hose,
I thought, “oh, thank God the wife doesn’t know!”
She’d kick me to the curb,
my life is so absurd,
“why can’t she just go with the darn flow!”
I walked into the house unaware,
I wondered if Theresa was there.
She caught me red-handed,
there the doo-doo landed,
WHAT??? My galoshes had a deep tear!
My Shoes Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Syllable count: 9-9-6-6-9
Date Written: August 25, 2016
As I wrote this, upon my bed,
fumbling with words yet to be said,
I felt the chill of a spring day
next to glass painted winter gray,
and marveled how the seasons wed.
In galoshes, shiny and red,
kids splashed in puddles as they fled
from their front doors, to laugh and play,
as I wrote this...
I grew old never having bled.
Never left my butter and bread.
Observed the world from where I lay.
Life happened while I was away,
leaving my thoughts and weaving thread,
as I wrote this...
Ah, Spring: each laden cloud more rain delivers,
that soaks our clothes and in our new shoes sloshes.
Our streets blockaded thanks to pregnant rivers,
with mud tracked in the house from kids' galoshes.
Ah, weeds: the bane of ev'ry gardener!
Unwanted life that fouls our garden's bliss.
Dear mother nature, we must pardon her
for her green demons turning Spring amiss.
Ah, noise: new Vernal life creates a riot
as crickets, birds, and frogs return to form.
It makes one long for Winter's tranquil quiet -
not all is calm when days grow long and warm.
Come March, not all is magically renewed -
with rain and weeds and noise, Spring's downright rude!
written 30 Jan 2023
I see green again
it's finally Spring
tiny, green buds
sweet as can be
that fresh smell
raindrops falling
on my garden . . .
Enchanted April
it's raining Spring
birds chirping
flowers blooming
bees buzzing
butterflies drifting
a blissful April . . .
Smell the air
open the window
get outside
take a walk
with galoshes . . .
April showers
brings sun kissed May
puddle jumping . . .
Jewel toned gems
regal roses
magical tulips
emerald trees . . .
Goodbye winter
glorious April
so breathtaking
I welcome you . . .
___________________________
March 29, 2016
Poetry/Anacreontic Verse/Oh Happy Spring
Copyright Protected, ID 16-772-849-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Anacreontic Verse 3,
sponsor, Edward Ebbs
Third Place
I had a love, but it flew like a bird
out of the cage but never heard.
I had a voice that spoke with tenderness,
rendered softly, but now I digress.
My charm was thick and melted like butter.
Now it's forming artery clutter.
I had ballooned lungs that clung to your air,
but your absence left a pulmonary tear.
My eyes, once wide, indulged your beauty,
but they can't relay what a heart can see.
I had a heart like a tender, ripe plum,
but it's been chewed like shoe-stuck gum.
Honey dripped from my playful mouth.
Now it's tasted onion, hard to brush out.
My belly would flutter with butterflies.
Now they've come out like powdered lies.
My ears were entranced with your melody.
They pranced like deer... into a tree.
I had pennies wasted on vain wishes.
Now they're poisoning the fishes.
My nose was enclosed with rose's scent,
but it blew with the breeze, a memory spent.
Secure were my arms in your sturdy care.
Now they're free, yet lonely, bare.
I had soft hands, interlocked with yours.
Now they hold open their own doors.
Silken were these legs you loved to caress.
I keep them neatly under my dress.
These eyebrows gave raise with praised arousal.
Now they're abased, full of sorrow.
I had a mile-wide smile like a child's for cake.
Now, I faintly make one, but it's a fake.
I had instincts, but I let them go
like a rambling tongue for ego's show.
I had a notion that this would end,
but remained devoted like an owing friend.
Deep were my regrets of yesterday's crime,
but they've been bleached like toilet grime.
I had cavernous wounds, dripping with blood,
with prints that followed like galoshes of mud.
I had a self, differently sorted,
once vibrantly alive, now aborted.