Best Housecoat Poems
Ordinarily I lie in my bed
mentally grasping for any slender thread of slumber
which I can possibly find to cling to!
But there was one time -
a morning of early April -
when rising from bed, I felt an unusual urge
to don my housecoat and walk out to the deck.
In the stillness of pre-twilight,
I stood there some time just gazing out
at the vast valley and distant lake
of my adopted homeland.
Slowly, a sliver of lemon meringue
began coloring the horizon.
Drawn to dawn, I let myself succumb
to the beauty of it all.
A chorus of birds in nearby blossoming trees brightly chirruped,
heralding Easter morning's illumination.
On this day symbolic of redemption, I swear I heard
the silence of angels’ song.
Jan. 10, 2019
for the 'Free Verse Style Only' Poetry Contest
of Emile Pinet and now for Richard Lamoureux Poem of the Day poetry contest
POTD 1/13/19
Note: I felt happy, of course, to win this award. A few times in the past I had gotten POTD for poems I really did not feel deserved it, so I was pleased that I got the award for a poem I truly had felt good about after I wrote it!
Categories:
housecoat, morning,
Form:
Free verse
A cacophony of cats in my life.
Not one or two, but fifteen!
Each,who along with joy,
brought sadness and strife!
All shapes and sizes with grand
and most loving personalities.
The Maine Koone was the smallest
of all.
Maxine was pedigreed and came
home as a present for my daughter
as a surprise, one fall.
My oldest cat,Luvey,lived to be
a sprightly twenty years old!
A tortoiseshell petite cat,fun and
a loving, furry,cloud to hold.
Kelly came next, a handsome red tabby.
A happy, mellow fellow who pranced
with such grace!
He really was happy and snazzy.
Lucey came later, a Ragdoll prize of a cat,
about to be put down!
I fought and won to stop her date with an
imminent death showdown!
I have 15 wooden boxes that have their
cremains..
Each box carved, beloved,and my
housecoat with lost cat tear stains.
I fed them fluids by IV,medications food,
on a special stand.
And countless nights in emergency vet
rooms, wringing my hopeless hands.
My last cat, Luvey lost her ability to see
and walk.
I placed her in a wheelchair and moved
her about.
For I am not one when faced with a challenge,
to balk!
I can't list all their names of how
fun and charming they were.
Just know, that I think of myself as a cat..
Minus the fur!
.........................................
* I do know how to spell the correct name of the
word after breed. It comes out as Maine ****.
Sorry I was unable to use the correct spelling.
She was a regal cat, deserving of her correct
breed name and feline heritage.
October 7,2019
9:30am PST
Animal: cat
A Rhyme About Your Favorite Pet
Regina Riddle
Categories:
housecoat, cat, love, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
JESUS by Joan May Donnelly Ellis
Jesus, You are the Brightest Light of Love
A hearth fire ablaze on Christmas Eve
A child's uncommanded hug
The flicker from a candle's flame
A Hand whose touch leaves a glow
The whisper of a lip's caress
The shower of an autumn snow
Jesus You are the manifestation of my praise
A military stride illuminated by grace
The reception of delight when pure humor releases all care
You are the warmth of an appreciative look
As You muse from your rocking chair
Jesus, You are a revelation spilling forth and pouring Light into my soul as I meditate on You
You are fresh, You are clean, a poet's dream come true
Jesus, You are as welcome as a mountain stream I surrender myself to after a hot Summer day of toil in my garden
Jesus, You are regular visits to Adventure Land
A glove, snow white shifting silken sands
You are a boy running 20 miles to be with the girl he loves.
Jesus, You are a head sinking in a bale of new-mown hay
The healing power of a Palm Tree's sway
And Jesus, You motivate every good that I do.
Jesus, You are the juice from a blade of Kentucky Blue
The tremor following a California Quake too
And Jesus, You've got what it takes to cause the Universe to fall in love with You.
Jesus, You're the dawning of a Carolina moon
The Decider who dines with silver spoon
You're the Yellow Rose of Texas in full bloom
The revival of Pentecost.
Jesus, You are a Prince in housecoat and slippers on a front porch swing
A LOVE for better or worse that clings
You're the Composer of songs Your Angel's sing.
Jesus, You are brevity
An embrace that lingers long after You go.
Jesus, You are the One who never laughed
When the child's love letter was mocked by the elite class.
And Jesus, You make bearable the insults one suffers through
Forgiveness granted for the incomplete, inaccurate view
You're the only One worthy & the only One true
Potter me in word & deed more like You.
Categories:
housecoat, jesus, spiritual, universe,
Form:
Verse
~Harridan in a Housecoat~
Four small children sent for care as their mother was taken so ill
No father could they reach for them so they were sent off at someone’s will
In the night taken from their beds, no word spoken, hearts full of dread
Taken to a town far away and not knowing what lay ahead.
A huge housecoat descended down like a crow devouring road kill
At the side stood a henchman, pointed nose, dark hair, and vengeful
Warning words left in theirs ears "be good or else there will be trouble"
“No one wants you now you know, not your parents” she burst that bubble.
The housecoat and the henchman dealt out their ghastly deeds
To three of the children she vented her spleen, her willing helper dealt her needs
The fourth child the baby, she showered with kisses and good food to eat
She bought her clothes and dressed her well, and spoke to her words so sweet.
The three all under the age of six did dread each and every night
When scrubbed with scrubbing brushes, their skin looking red raw and tight.
She had to get the scum off them because they were now in care
It was obvious that no one loved them, that’s why they were there.
Frightened and timid were the three, but the youngest was well looked after
Jealousy did form in the minds of the three - it robbed them of their laughter
The harridan in the housecoat with her willing henchman
Thought up little tortures finding the Achilles’ heels in each child one by one.
The housecoat and the henchman were in for big surprise
When the father sent for the children, she couldn’t believe her eyes
Bribery she tried on the siblings so the children would never tell
But there is not one that would condemn her to her well preached hell.
The housecoat and the henchman a mother and daughter no less
A good churchgoing family with their holy pictures to bless
Evil in their deeds of torture and of mental games
The harridan in the housecoat and the daughter with no name.
© ~GG~ 6/08/2012
Categories:
housecoat, people, children, father, daughter,
Form:
Quatern
Allow my words to be like magic,/ my hands and fingers like inspecter gadget!/
Caressing every inch of your smooth brown skin./ Your mind locked-in./ Each syllable is
like the sweetest taste of sin;/ and with this pen,/ I write you an eternal melody./ R U feeling
me?/ Then make me feel like a man./ Take my hand,/ and lay with me,/ let our poetry/
unite/ so bright/ the passions flame./ I won't stop/ til you reach the top,/ and scream my
name!/
My butterfly kisses trace your hipline./ Pure pleasure along the core of your spine./
Your salty nectar tastes divine./ Our bodies intertwine./ So warm is your sunshine!/ Your
words are almost feline./ Such music we make./ You whisper "I'm not sure how much more
I can take!"/
You cum while on top of me./ A sudden jolt and you're back to reality./ Looking down
at each sentence I wrote./ You can still feel my soft kisses along your throat./ You're so
moist beneath your housecoat!/ Your thoughts float back to my love note,/ and you can still
feel every inch of me!/ This eternal melody!
Categories:
housecoat, passion
Form:
Free verse
Today when passing my mirror on by
I saw an image that filled me with fright
'Twas mother looking me straight in the eye —
Wrinkles, grey hair (on my face in this light!)
Seeing I'd aged to such a degree,
I then sought to examine further down.
I saw not my housecoat hitting my knee,
But a boob hanging the length of my gown.
Teary at this unyielding decay
I threw my arms up in resigned acceptance.
THAT’S when my arm skin started to play
Clapping together like an Irish step dance.
And as if to punctuate my despair
My children joined in this unfriendly game.
They pointed out my age-spotted hands (no fair!)
And their grandma’s were one and the same!
I smiled to keep me from giving up
And noticed I'd left my teeth out in their cup.
Revised September 22, 2018
Categories:
housecoat, age, body, change, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
I looked around the crowded lobby in the Ritz Hotel in Washington, DC. I was a little late in getting there as the plane was late in arriving. Not a problem. I had the itinerary for the next day's meeting and an agenda that provided me all the information I needed to conduct myself in a professional manner before the executives expected to attend.
I checked into my room and immediately showered, slipped into my housecoat and stood before the mirror to practice my presentation. I knew I had it nailed. Feeling quite confident, I went to bed and slept right through until room service called me at 6:30 a.m. The meeting was to start at 8:00 a.m. in the main conference room of the hotel. I showered again, dressed, pee'd and practiced in front of the mirror again.
I stood at the Podium and began my presentation complete with all my Harvard Graphics bells and whistles. As I was facing the charts, with my back to the audience, I heard snickering. It wasn't clear what they were saying exactly, but something about toilet paper and hemline in panties. I was absolutely mortified!!!
Categories:
housecoat, art, career, crazy,
Form:
Prose
Up with the sun, put coffee to brew
Inside my mouth, some sticky night goo
Standing in housecoat with fuzzy house shoes
Starting my day, as always I do
Down with a cup, feeling like new
Stepped onto my porch, that first morning view
Something was odd, some weird bugaboo
There must have been paint in the heavy night dew
Next to my house, by my wandering jew
My once yellow daisies had all turned light blue
Even my houseplants, my once green bamboo
Was now a blue green of the ugliest hue
So I cut them all down, in a rage I flew
Hacking and chopping, like I'd lost a screw
Roses and hostas and yes, daisies too
But I saved a bouquet, Here! These are for you.
June 20 2017
by Daniel Turner
Categories:
housecoat, blue, flower, funny, humorous,
Form:
Monorhyme
Today I tasted joy.
If fact I tasted my way through the whole day.
Not full course offerings or overindulgent dessert platters,
Just a quiet time, my housecoat, china mug and me.
My husband was here somewhere.
Occasionally he passed by my peripheral vision, nibbling quietly.
I enjoyed solitude, a quiet time with kindle stories and laptop friends,
A catch up time, soup simmering in crockpot time, a memory stone time.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings, and I am content in the moment.
Today I tasted joy.
Categories:
housecoat, best friend, day,
Form:
Prose
I Remember
I remember the smell of Canadian bacon, hot chocolate
with tiny marshmallows bobbing in a Niagara Falls cup.
I remember your beautiful voice lulling me to sleep
I remember your housecoat with the lace piping and opaque buttons
I remember you holding me in your arms and rocking my pain away
I remember that you truly loved me and that I truly loved you too
I remember...
Categories:
housecoat, love,
Form:
Free verse
EASTER MORN – from the chap book,
From Childhood, by Dave Austin
Wake up! -
overnight – soft bunnies
yellow chicks
crawling the bed covers -
Brain an eggshell
In an old, stained tea cup
Wake up!
Bright, white Easter morn -
Silent bells toll invitation to the hunt
The bowl of eggs is gone,
Table strewn with dyes.
Cottontails climb the walls
Before my very eyes
One nest right in sight
Fuzzy-spills its sides -
Candy beans
Blue egg dried
SHOUT!
Mom in housecoat,
Dad in terry robe,
They’ve heard.
Brother? Sister? Still asleep.
I shrug, eat a loaded chocolate bird
SHOUT!
I’ve found a nest on top the piano,
Another on the fireplace mantle.
I break a blue egg’s shell -
Careless of the face, lovingly traced.
SHOUT!
Cries to wake the dead,
I should care.
Joy loves company.
Wake sister, brother
That all might share.
Oh, to rise on a feathery Sunday’s morn,
Break colored shells,
Eat chicks before they’re born.
Categories:
housecoat, beautiful, childhood, easter,
Form:
Free verse
Colorless Confessional
It was as if time had resisted capture
hid its most precious commodities
averted its eyes lest you see into its soul
withheld all but the extremes of color
Everything became a negative reflection
black on white, white on black
variations of both accounting for contrast
allowing the moment to be stolen
There would be future arguments
regarding what color the dress was,
why Mom always had on the same housecoat,
where was Dad when they took the pictures
Time’s reluctant moment would pierce the future
prick deeply the longings of our hearts,
elicit laughter – and tears – intermingling
remind us that we too had been young
The old camera, the canisters, the leather case
the eye that captured a moment of life
offering it to us - as a window
into our future.
John G. Lawless
3/1/2015
Categories:
housecoat, family, introspection, relationship,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Waking up this morning,
Gazing out the window,
into a pink and orange abyss.
A brand new day.
I wrap myself in the warmth
Of my housecoat,
Coat my throat with a tepid, fluid
Sip of freshly made coffee.
I reflect.
I feel so empty,
So lonely,
so lost.
Where are you?
In the orange, I see my inner flame.
Anger fueled me to the core.
In the pink, I see my tired cheeks,
blushing more and more.
I’m running out of will,
To keep myself moving forward.
I need you.
I need my best friend.
It’s lonely on the outside,
When no one is concerned.
When your inner flame,
Leaves you feeling burned
Categories:
housecoat, nostalgia
Form:
Poet Visitors in the Night
Asleep, I was, under my new forest green
velvet and Sherpa throw.
With loving stockings to warm my
cold, autumnal toes.
Then, I felt the sweetest, slightest breeze.
As one might feel, caused by the tenderest
of angels' wings.
Two men by my bed did boldly stand.
One, graciouslly helped me up whilst
the other cloaked me in my new
scarlet housecoat.
I was not afraid just sensed I knew
these smiling trangers at my hand.
We lit some candles, they brought
out fragrant jasmine tea.
I recognized them from times
long gone bye.
They were E.E,Cummings and
W.H. Auden.
I was beside myself with poetic
happiness, aye!
We sat and consulted till dawn
began to break.
Both told me how to improve and
what steps I must take.
Both entreated me to write great
poetry.
I told each of them, of being a good
poet, was not a title worthy of me.
They both howled in raocous laughter!
Hugged me.....and told me to be
true to the poetic greats of history.
And I pledged to them and to
all of you....
To cease the search for popularity!
And primarily be a poet true, to myself
and to all of you!
With love,
Panagiota
November 12, 2019
Categories:
housecoat, dream, encouraging, motivation, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
Wizened old person that I am,
wading through the horde
of clerks at Staples, I loiter a bit
trying to recall the cartridge number I need.
Too loudly, a mordacious clerk comments,
“Wonder if we should call 911.”
I elicit your sympathy, she has some nerve!
My mind was shackled by my latest trifle but
I was fully dressed - pajamas and housecoat.
written March 28, 2017
for Eight Words Contest by John Hamilton
Categories:
housecoat, anxiety, memory,
Form:
Narrative