Best Toasting Poems
In November I write of winter
for I am weary of the old year and tired bones
I visualize all hardships blanketed with fresh snowfall
geese in a "V" as they flee on trade winds to the south
season's celebrations, toasting in the new year
senior couples delighting in a luminous sunset
knowing it might be their last together
In February I write of spring
for I am weary of the bone-chilling cold
I envision the circle of life resurrecting dormant earth and tired souls
zephyr winds teasing nascent flower petals and young hummingbirds
mayday flower crowns adorning laughing children
young lovers sharing kisses, dreaming dreams of
infinite possibilities
In May I write of summer
for I am weary of the bone-soaking rain
I forecast cloudless skies and longer days
Santa Ana winds dismissing every chill
a lark's lilting lullaby lulling loons on the lake
vacationing families basking in the warm outdoors
brides and grooms viewing limitless horizons
In August I write of autumn
for I am weary of the bone-dry heat
I anticipate bewitching fall winds tantalizing neon maple leaves
turkeys gobbling, ducks wobbling, thrushes warbling
harvest home throbbing with the aroma of fresh pie
middle age couples cuddling by the fireplace
giving thanks for all that lies behind and ahead
Lord, help me to view the past with grace,
the future with hope,
the present with contentment,
and to write of November
in November.
written 25 October 2021
Categories:
toasting, november, poetry, seasons, writing,
Form:
Free verse
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime." - Laura Ingalls Wilder
The Christmas spirit can be heard.
Heard in sounds like choirs singing,
Singing carols and heard in bells,
Bells gaily ring-a-linging.
Ring-a-linging bells and seeing
Seeing lights brightly gleaming,
Gleaming snowfall and small children,
Children with faces beaming!
Beaming, yes, and there is smelling.
Smelling pine cones and roasting -
Roasting chestnuts; drinking cider
Cider for Yuletide toasting.
Toasting Christmas, also tasting!
Tasting all the flavoring
The flavoring of sweets and meats -
Meats at feasts for savoring.
Savoring, the spirit is felt
Felt by loving and by letting-
Letting senses wake to Christmas
Christmas spirit try getting!
Categories:
toasting, christmas,
Form:
Verse
In view of my mirror
Lately you appear
Smiling at me
While I'm twirling my hair
But you aren't really there
In my dreamy rear view
As I find fulfillment
In everything about you
Holding you closely
Without your consent
Indulging in memories
When I'm feeling lonely
Reminiscing fondly
A million happy tales
Laughing all the while
At every milestone
Celebrating birthdays
Toasting graduations
Growing up together
As lifelong friends
Until things changed
When I found pleasure
In every hug and touch
Longing for more
Of emotional rush
Seeking sweet solace
In sound of your laughter
And dreams of lovers
In romantic fairy tales
Never saying a word
Except in my prayers
Then came the moment
Expressing deep regret
For not having the courage
To tell you how I felt
As I held my silence
On your wedding day
December 26, 2018
Placed 1st: Strand choice F contest by Brian Strand
Categories:
toasting, friendship, friendship love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Santa hasn’t drunk cocoa tonight,
and he’s not dressed in red trimmed with white.
In blue denim so cool,
he is toasting the Yule
with a drink surely not mixed with Sprite!
Santa’s drink was a little too red,
and I think we have something to dread,
for he’s now in the sky
and he’s flying “too high”
as his sleigh widely veers overhead.
Had been use for the Humor Contest of Carol Eastman
* Slab City is a snowbird campsite in the Colorado Desert in southeastern California, used by recreational vehicle owners and squatters from across North America. East Jesus is part of its artistic community.
Categories:
toasting, character,
Form:
Limerick
I walk past empty bedrooms that once held my boys
The beds made so perfect, the absence of noise
Books there on the book shelf and not upon the floor
No ear-splitting music, no slamming the door
It’s eerily quiet now these once busy dens
These bunkers of bustle with brothers and friends
They’re off to college now the closets are clean
They only come home now on days in between
The weeks of the study the homework and toil
With loads of their laundry all dirty with soil
These nice empty bedrooms so tidy and neat
Just aren’t the same in their pristine retreat
As when the sneakers are thrown in a corner
The fridge it is drained like an unwilling donor
The noise and the smell of exercised teens
Showing off muscles with biceps and spleens
Banging a cupboard while toasting some bread
At three in the morning before heading to bed
Now some dorm at the coast, in some far away place
Or corner of frat-house who’s presence they grace
Our bedrooms are empty the rooms nice and quiet
The sheets all in place and the fridge on a diet
But once in a while it all comes to life
Things they are back to the brotherly strife
Rooms not so tidy and sharp as a knife
As when we’re alone…just me and my wife
David Kettler
Categories:
toasting, kid,
Form:
Rhyme
There once was a man from Duluth
whose habit was spinning the truth.
He had told the same tale
(every day without fail;
'twas getting quite long in the tooth).
He sat down to drink in a booth
then ordered a double vermouth.
He said a tornado
shaped like a potato
had taken his poor wife named, Ruth!
The men in the bar yelled, “Forsooth!”
But one woman thought it was truth
(the gal was a newbie
who'd just smoked a doobie)
and sent more vermouth to the booth.
“The first time I ever saw Ruth,”
he said, toasting her with vermouth,
(Though usually crisp
when he drank he'd a lisp),
“wath back in my youth in Duluth.
“She'd one perpendicular tooth.
When she withled came her pet gooth.
It wath love at firth thight
and we wedded that night
with her gooth on top of a mooth!”
“We honeymooned outthide Duluth
in a cabooth, just me and Ruth.”
He then heaved a big sigh
(he was getting quite high)
“And of courthe the mooth and her gooth.”
He took a big swig of vermouth
and said that they never found Ruth.
“Just an arm at the mall
and her foot on a wall,
pluth one thingle tooth in Duluth.”
He wept as he pined for his youth,
so the gal ordered up more vermouth.
Then the telephone rang
and the bartender sang,
“It's Ruth, your ex-wife in Duluth.
It's I telling you the sad truth
about her and 'who goothed the mooth'!
Now she wants a good check
that won't bounce, you old wreck,
like the last at Bank of Duluth!”
The new gal cried, “Cad, You're uncouth!
You gave your eyetooth it was truth
of poor Ruth and her gooth,
the cabooth and the mooth
in Duluth, and all for vermouth!”
The man said, “The truth in Duluth
and why I keep hitting the juithe
ith that Ruth and the mooth,
the cabooth and her gooth
were a nooth I had to cut looth!”
The new gal cried, “There weren't no gooth,
nor mooth or cabooth in Duluth!
There was just poor old Ruth
and some nooth that was looth,
plus a drunk who soaked up the juithe!”
The man from Duluth knew the truth,
“Thereth no more vermouth. Whath the uthe?”
So he crept out the back,
but the rest knew the tack:
he'd be back next day for vermouth!
Categories:
toasting, drink, humor, word play,
Form:
Limerick
How proud they put them on display
Two thousand of the first of fortyk
There President Bukele did say
They’ll live in the jailhouse for decades
he went on boasting, in jail it’s judgement day,
as he held his glass of brandy toasting
inmates, suspected violent gang members
moved to a new mega-prison in El Salvador
Transferred to the Center of Confinement of Terrorism
Mixed up, unable to do any more harm
to the population, it was said
So why do I care about these souls,
tears flowed as I read the article
about thousands of prisoners, and Bukele in particular
Central American country’s notorious pandillas
And right then I understood why I cried
Hundreds never made it to round two, que pesadillas
There are the innocent ones who are denied
a fair trial, it's sad to think that nothing can be done
for a mother's innocent son
Categories:
toasting, analogy, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
This morning I am glued to my TV,
for something has happened in DC!
I’m scratching my head.
Am I dreaming still in bed?
They are PRAISING the President on NBC!
I turn to CNN. It's all the same again!
From ear to ear Don Lemon wears a grin,
“...the President’s magnanimous...
a genius without animus...
In the next election he’s sure to win!"
WHAT?
Surely MSNBC will say something keen.
“The first lady should grace a magazine,”
says Chris Matthews all atingle,
“did you know she’s bilingual?”
The unobjective fawning is obscene!
Schumer and Pelosi toasting with champagne,
are heading Trump's re-election campaign!
The POTUS’s tweets
called, "poetry--like Keats"…
Has the planet gone completely insane?
At FOX News everyone is crying.
They’re shaking their fists and Oh-why-ing.
Hannity’s guzzling booze,
While Tucker sings the blues.
I wonder if pigs have started flying!
Something very strange has happened in DC!
And I am still glued to my TV,
uncertain if I woke
or if it’s all a joke…
The President simply switched from “R” to “D”!
January 31, 2019
Categories:
toasting, humor, political,
Form:
Rhyme
When I am reveling in love of family
Toasting virtues of revered friendships
Savoring freedoms that let me be
Luxuriating on sandy white beaches
Endowed with means to live carefree
I wonder if my life is laden in dreams;
When sadness reigns face of anguish
Bearing glumness of stygian grief,
In harmony of the galaxy solace I feel
Purging clouds of bleak melancholy
As moonlit gleam rescues my evening
I wonder if my life is laden in dreams;
When new day glints wondrous valleys
As I bask in hues of resplendent prairies
Admiring nature’s ebullient beauty--
Golden sun beams on tenor of streams
Rushing to rivers and mighty blue seas
I wonder if my life is laden in dreams;
When I rejoice in tranquility of music
Strumming rhythms of euphoric lyrics
Cherishing chorus of happy memories
Turning setbacks into success stories
Comforting soul in misery of defeats
I wonder if my life is laden in dreams;
Or is this divinity’s sacred blessing
Evincing revelation of stellar deity:
There is a star with my name on it.
November 10, 2020
Placed 2nd: There is a star with my name on it poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
toasting, blessing, introspection, life, star,
Form:
Verse
Autumn aromas.
Apple crisp,
pumpkin spice,
cinnamon cider,
Watch out, a spider!
Crisp air and cozy coming.
Chestnuts roasting,
marshmallow toasting,
turkey roasting, host boasting.
Oak branches cover their little brown spinning beginnings.
Solid trees regal and strong,
two of them hold an owl’s song,
outdoors: orange, yellow, brown,
fluttering
down.
Raking.
Reading,
reflecting,
red delicious eating.
Nippy nature walks.
Napping.
November moon, are you ready?
Winter soon.
Scratchy scarecrows sneak through spooky corn mazes.
Scenic foliage,
campfire blazes.
Categories:
toasting, autumn,
Form:
Acrostic
"Christmas Spirit"
(Christmas Day in Italian Culture)
as a snowy blanket of white caresses in Winter's glow
and frosty icicles kiss windowpanes in glazy show
a silent atmosphere embraces a starlit sight
while magnificent choir of Angels sing Hosanna O! Holy Night.
Church bells chime in twilight mist to welcome Christmas day
wishing holiday greetings while children glide on sleigh
glorious festive mood captivates inspired light
as heavenly Angelic voices praise Hosanna O! Holy Night.
decorations adorn to honor the precious Infant King
candlelight illuminates the Manger Scene as carolers sweetly sing
the scent of fragrant pine cones creates an aura to ignite
hymns of worship as heralding Angels proclaim Hosanna O! Holy Night.
soon family gathers to partake of traditional Christmas meal
"Feast of the Seven Fishes"prelude to tree trimming feel
the fireplace mantle glows where stockings smile so bright
and hark the herald Angel hosts greet Hosanna O! Holy Night.
Joseph is the patriarch who shelters newborn babe
a gift of God from Heaven sent to Earth to save
a glorious time for celebration in precious moment of delight
majestic music from Angels chanting Hosanna O! Holy Night.
sheer warmth of having a personal relationship with the Lord
a unique experience enlightening as He is adored
sharing love with everyone, the human spirit takes flight
melting their voices with holy Angels singing Hosanna O! Holy Night.
*For Cyndi's Season of Lights, Delights & Enlightenment Contest.
*Nov. 14, 2012.
in the Italian culture we begin our Christmas celebration ...
Christmas Eve - Feast of Seven Fishes Dinner for good health & prosperity
Tree trimming ceremony with music and singing toasting wine
Midnight Mass at Basilica in Rome or at Church in N.J.
Dessert Party after Mass with eggnog
Christmas Day exchanging gifts and visiting children and seniors at hospitals
Pasta dinner with salads and baked stuff shells with meatballs
Desserts of creme puffs laced with rum, cannolis pastry filled with chocolate
Wine tasting from orchards of Italy imported with olive tray
Candlelight ceremony where all hold a lit candle making a wish for a
Happy New Year.
Categories:
toasting, holiday, christmas, music, celebration,
Form:
Kyrielle
What's up with Santa
Chimneys not swept Santa isn't happy
He is sick of the soot making him snappy
Families have lost the one thing that gives a room soul
A roaring fire of wood or coal
Toasting your toes as well as the bread
Held in front of the coals which are glowing red
Back to Santa who is beginning to stumble
No longer mince pies, sometimes fruit crumble
The tot of whisky has become a shot and Fanta
The reindeers are fed up, with a drunk Santa.
Talking of striking which isn't pleasant
A Xmas morn without any presents
All because Santa can't say no to the offings
Quaffing the goodies that are left out for him
So come you Mam's and Dad this is the test
Chimneys clean a mince pie and tot is best
Children will wake up to a happy morn
Celebrate the day a baby boy was born.
Reindeers will be happy too, that's nice
So will the elves and the live in mice
Happy Xmas Santa, once more you have survived
Delivered the parcels and kept tradition alive
Left me a sackful that's kind of lumpy
Opened to find a red eyed Santa that's grumpy
So night night Santa time for a snooze
Remember next year to keep off the booze
Penned 22 November 2014
Categories:
toasting, christmas,
Form:
Couplet
Lost in your eyes
my passions rise.
Emotions burn as flames ignite
your heart beating in time with mine
toasting our love with champagne wine
lovers celebrating the night.
Your heart beating in time with mine
we dance in enchanted moonlight
embracing till the stars take flight
toasting our love with champagne wine.
Lost in your eyes
your heart beating in time with mine
pulses race as feelings excite
toasting our love with champagne wine
my passions rise.
My passions rise
lost in your eyes.
Categories:
toasting, beautiful, emotions, feelings, love,
Form:
Ballad
~With a red cloisonne butterfly welded
to the end of the metal, the wire, I wrapped you
and cut off the circulation in my pinky finger.
I laughed with a nervousness
given to caffeine,
and popped two sticks of peppermint gum
in my mouth.~
"Always remember me", you said with a smile
of darkness, of truth, to insanely beguile
the roof off my brain, pulling all of my thoughts
to the sky to condense, concreting the pain.
(Conundrum to imprison a butterfly brightly
to metal in what looks like nail polish red
Funny to think that this same time next year
I'll still be here thinking the things that you said
You will be breaking up wine glasses toasting
and you will be setting the sun every night
and maybe you'll think of me somewhere
in passing, but somehow I can't think that that would be right.)
I never liked cloisonne, I'd rather remember
the moment I met you when all was still free
and nervously, as I unwrapped my desire,
I'd rather it there, that you remember me.
Categories:
toasting, life, people, time, butterfly,
Form:
Free verse
Holly boughs draping from mantel bring cheer;
Christmas lights twinkling on tree.
carolers singing their hymns loud and clear
setting the Yule spirit free.
Fire softly burning as shadows display
dancing like elves on the wall;
cinnamon cider scent slowly makes way
as signs of the season enthrall.
Snow globe on table depicts winter scene,
Christmas of so long ago.
Sleigh ride through forest so still and serene;
lovers hold tight in the snow.
Sitting on sofa with sweetheart so near,
gazing into her green eyes;
toasting the season with cider and cheer,
hoping for ardent surprise.
Season’s gay setting a vision sublime,
like snow globe’s cold wintery view;
wishing this moment was frozen in time
stuck in a snow globe with you.
December 7, 2018
Categories:
toasting, christmas, fantasy, love, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme