Best Shawl Poems


Premium Member A Black Silk Shawl

As the sun shimmies down blue skies and sets,
clouds streaked with pink, mauve, and grey pave its way.
And the night gets wrapped in a black silk shawl,
whose threads slowly snuff out the light of day.

As Mars and Venus arrive on the scene,
Luna rises to reveal a pocked face.
And twilight dims, setting the stage for dusk,
fixed within the fabric of time and space.

Clouds of bats swarm out of secluded caves
to feast on moths, snatched right out of the air.
And while ebony shadows shift and merge,
yellow eyes in the gloom seemingly stare.

And the haunting hoots of an owl are heard,
as the line between day and night gets blurred.
Categories: shawl, 10th grade, beautiful, image,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Autumn Shawl

Fluttering golden 
brown leaves dancing on air falls 
undressing nature

The wild geese flying 
overhead a sign of peace
winter closes in

Throwing the old peat
keeping a fire burning 
as cold approaches
Categories: shawl, autumn,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member The Old Iron Bridge

This old gal is desperate for a new coat
Rust covers her cracked and peeling frame, but
No one seems to notice for
In Winter, an icy lace shawls warmly wraps around her.
In Spring, misty dew drapes her shoulders.
In Summer, variegated greens and blues surround her like a fine silk scarf.
In Autumn, her mottled tones are enveloped within Joseph's arms.

She stands a stately Queen robed in royal array,
Reigning over her domain with
Seasonless grace and grandeur.
Categories: shawl, age, autumn, beauty, places,
Form: Personification

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Shawl

  

I touch the intricate, soft shawl lovingly
Recalling, gnarled hands moving delicately
O, such sublime patterns, Grandma creating
A shawl is draped upon a kitchen chair, waiting

What skill within those hands to crochet
A remembrance, a treasure, I keep today
Grandma, divine angel, from above watching
A shawl is draped upon a kitchen chair, waiting

Above me is an angel, heavenly
My muse, my reason for writing really
Write is for the word, her words so inspiring
A shawl is draped upon a kitchen chair, waiting

I touch the shawl, her treasured thing
She took a lonely girl and gave her wings
I lift it from it's honored place, gently kissing
A shawl is draped upon a kitchen chair, waiting

I caress it each day, as I am passing
Pink and soft, as the day of her dying
Will always keep it, forever, remembering
A shawl is draped upon a kitchen chair, waiting

_________________________
November 7, 2012


Poetry/Rhyme/The Shawl
Copyright Protected, ID 11-438-744-07
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
Categories: shawl, death, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Lewis Leary's Shawl

Lewis crept into Harper's Ferry
at cool dawn's light in '59
with angry John Brown,
pursed keen and unkempt
to bleed over his shawl,
then died for his wife

Mary, grew old and gray
and left that stained shawl
for grandson Langston Hughes,
to inspire him someday

Langston took Grandma's shawl 
and took oppression to his heart
to rise up in other words,
"where people suffered 
in beautiful language"*

© Goode Guy 2013-02-03

* Langston Hughes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langston_Hughes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lewis_Sheridan_Leary
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Brown_(abolitionist)
© Goode Guy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shawl, black african american, history,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Many-Colored Shawl

There was an old lady who wore an old shawl,
knitted it herself with wool bought at the mall.
Now old and ragged, Granddaughter Pennie thought
my friends and I could knit a new one, and we ought!

Two friends agreed, but it will be a big job.
We need two more, maybe we should “lob”
Put on the bulletin board, no one signed.
Then, on a church pew, accidently left behind.

Pastor Jim told Pennie's mom: I know two who knit;
one is black, one Chinese; won't be a problem, will it?
Pennie's mom, Mary, said: my mom's thinking is old hat.
Maybe we won't tell her til it's knitted, how's that?

So, the four girls got together and knitted away,
forming friendships that last even to this day.
Grandma knitted with them, said they were all cute.
Thinking can change for we're all from one root!
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shawl, friendship, granddaughter, grandmother,
Form: Rhyme


Dusk's Sacred Shawl

Please do not convince me of my ignorance or naivety.
Naive to the cynic, the sun sets on my faith and all my eyes see.
Eyes see bright visions of dusk's inner beauty wrapped in sacred shawl.
The sacred shawled in heavenly grace, never shall cold nights fall.
Cold nights fall away, no threatening winds; souls laud in faith's armor.
Silver armor of faith lifts me at dusk in wafting spiritual myrhh.
The aroma of myrhh resonates from Eden's blooming floral praise.
Of flowering praise, a melody sings the poet's love on sunlit days.
These sunny days sweeten lives with hope christened in dusky starlight,
Starlight reflects love and an aura of truth, repelling darkest plights.
Plights from our darkest earthly nights are left buried in ancient dirt;
dirt falls from the ancient in sacred shawl, convinced they shall never hurt.
-

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, August 14, 2012
for the Wreath on the Flavor of Dusk Contest
Categories: shawl, faith, faith, love, me,
Form: Verse

Grandma's New Shawl

Grandma shivers, 
and to warm her, I wrap
an old faded shawl
around her frail frame.
A shawl she had hand woven
many years ago.

I hold her, and while she sleeps,
she touches the worn threads.
Her fingers move over the old design,
of two faded red roses.
Her eyes are closed. 
Perhaps, my Grandma's dreams
are somewhere in the past,
reviewing all her life's weavings.

Suddenly Grandma's eyes open.
She reaches out as her hands
tremble over the old shawl.
Her fingers seem to be tracing
a new design over the faded roses,
as if an intrinsically beautiful pattern
is being revealed to her.

Now I understand!
Grandma is weaving a new shawl!
Eagerly she leans forward.
I watch her pick up one old loose thread,
and firmly tie it to the new.
Categories: shawl, death, grandmother,
Form: Rhyme

Happiness Is Like a Golden Shawl

The pebbled beach  on which we walked at dawn
The sun was dancing  singing  stone to stone
The sea was pale as silk and gently ran
The tide was coming in, the day began

Why is my memory so deficient here?
I remember little but you near
I remember Portland Bill at dusk
The sea was wilder then with many thrusts

Happiness was like a golden shawl
A  world like Eden, man before the Fall
Today they say, illusion, I say, no
What matters  is where this insight makes you go

The fruits of meditation are its test
May we be generous, may our souls be blessed
Categories: shawl, 8th grade, love, meaningful,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Warmth of Snow

snowflakes evanesce
blankets of snow cover limbs...
and warm frigid tree
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shawl, appreciation, nature, snow, tree,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Prayer Shawl

Prayer Shawl

When summer nights are christened
With chanting crickets –
Last of their summer season song -
Rolling fields of ripening wheat - east of the mountains -
Revisit my mind;
I picture a young woman – suitcase in hand –
Walking away – not looking back –
Face toward a city by the Sound
Leaving fields in echoes of youth
On a journey of one thousand miles.

I walked the journey that she walked,
Suitcase in hand,
The solitary path 
That knew the touch of her footsteps
But came from forests evergreen
To hear her crickets 
Chant the same symphonies
Abiding in a new home
Bounded by the ocean’s roar
And golden foothills.

She – my Naomi;
I, her Ruth
Embraced upon the crossroads,
Sharing secrets of strawberries
Made into sweet jam;
Where she went
I followed,
Not always in agreement,
As we gleaned new amber fields
Of poppies arm in arm.

To my sorrowing, 
The time 
When she would again journey
In footsteps
I could not walk
Whispered 
An approaching call –
A bugle 
With its plaintive sound
Left an echo in her dreams.

One last gift –
A shawl of comfort 
For the chill of autumn days -
To remember journeys -
Summer warmth passing,
Yellow colored as the spring
Her favorite 
Knit in a loving circle
By words of prayer -
Joined in loops of affection

The time to part
Came quietly
Amid December’s celebrations;
On a still Noel night
She left – no suitcase in hand –
Covered just before she embarked
By my shawl knit with blessings -
All dressed up in prayer -
To be embraced by eternity
In sunshine yellow hues.

No one
Should journey
Back to the eternal 
Without a yellow prayer shawl.
Categories: shawl, family, prayer,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Misty Shawl

Veiled by a misty shawl of raindrops
a shy sun fails to show its face.
And colored leaves fade fast;
for trampled underground
they morph into mold,
as scarecrows sag;
abandoned
at their
posts.
~
Rain
dampens
tinder hopes,
setting a mood
oft fueled by gloom;
summoning depression.
And as Winter approaches,
a melancholy grey sky weeps 
for Fall, as it bleeds into the soil.
Categories: shawl, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Nonet

Coverall and a Shawl

Coverall and A Shawl

Remember when men wore a coverall,
And in fall women will wear a shawl;
Hair had been a bun;
Thought of having fun,
Also an apron are things that I recall.

When the day did end or start and begin,
Was while women would wear an apron
Did cook a lot,
On stove in pot,
Or could crochet, knit and some flax spin.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shawl, allegory, analogy,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Solid Gray Crocheted Shawl

Solid gray crocheted shawl veils sky.
Fringes reach down cover
distant hills, swift creek nearby.
Dampness reigns, just seems to hover.

Cool, but not cold wind softly blows.
Red Cardinal high up
supported only by tree bow.
Great trust has in ancient back up..

Eerie stillness erupts 'pon air
The silence before storm
Then the rain begins, unawares
of possible alarm.

Just comes down without any cares.
A plan, designed, a vow.
Of its potential danger unawares
Rain_ flooding storm allow?..

Rain without flooding the earth.
God's promise from above
Giving the first rainbow its birth
In the quiet, feel God's love....

Finis!
Categories: shawl, nature,
Form: Rhyme

Old Woman With a Faded Pink Shawl

There is no moon tonight.
Wine fills me with melancholy.
Movement of boats on the Seine soothe me like choral music.
Illuminated torches excite nostalgia.
The sound of an Aurignacian flute can be heard down the boulevard, or maybe only the glint of a memory.
Worn feet ache.
Tired lines tell the story of a life of curiosity in a weary smile.
An old woman knits.
She wears a faded pink shawl to cover her years.
Flour from the morning’s baking lightly coats her wooden shoes.
© Greg Evans  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: shawl, age, extended metaphor, loneliness,
Form: Free verse
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