Chesterfield Poems | Examples


Premium MemberOde to Crayola Colors

jungle governor green, respectable robin egg blue
beyond banana mania, periwinkle too
brisk bluebonnet, French fuchsia and plum
tickle me pink, where did you come from?

wild strawberry, chesterfield on my swollen lips
radical red, overdressed orange wearing two slips
midnight blue, outer space light saver green
a few crayon colors at one time in a box seen.
Categories: chesterfield, 2nd grade, 3rd grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium MemberWinston Tastes Good

Winston tastes good like a knock knock cigarette should.
See the USA in a Chevrolet, visit Dinah Shore along the way.
But be sure and be toting some Chesterfield Lights.
So we can be sexy and sultry on these winter nights.

The Marlboro Man is waiting just around the next bend.
When you see him, blow some smoke rings up in the wind.
Cigarettes are sensual, and they will make you look Kool.
Have one lit up and ready at all times; it is the 50's cigarette rule!
Categories: chesterfield, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme


Premium MemberChesterfield is an Expert on Everything

Chesterfield explains everything with a hiss.
You will not have time to ask him something,
Before he tells you this

He is an expert on bees, trees, houses,
Mouses, dogs,
And of course, Iowa farm hogs.

Chesterfield prances around in his red jammies
Throwing out facts – many, not a few.
None of the others call him on his fibs.
For they have dementia too.
Categories: chesterfield, life,
Form: Free verse

Livorno

Livorno

The communist uprising in Livorno was a serious menace to Italy because that army sent tanks, not big tanks but big enough in narrow streets
At the railway station, I met a small woman with a big
suitcase, I offered to carry it for her; little did I know she lived outside the town; it was a burdensome walk on unlit roads
At the parvenue cafe, I met a woman I had seen before
Short black hair of dubious gender (let them guess)
sat drinking Pernod, smoking a cigarette that had the aroma of oriental express
I must have seen her before. Was it in Monte Carlo?
She beckoned to me to sit at her table
 I had a cold beer
and smoked a Chesterfield and my arm was numb carrying the bloody suitcase for a woman who told me she was an actress going to Rome to star in an upcoming movie called
La Strada
years later Kristiansand, a town in Norway, was on a catering course 
I saw the film, yeah, it was the woman I had met in Livorno 
A sudden blackout that might have been caused by the Reds
the cafe supplied candles, that on a night of uncertainty
made the plaza romantic, the Monte Carlo woman had vanished, like a cigarette ad on the TV screen
Categories: chesterfield, adventure, april, books, break
Form: Blank verse

I Cannot Subject Your Immortality To My Art

I cannot subject your immortality to my art
For something deathless cannot by death survive,
Nor can I anchor your beauty upon the sun
Which although shines bright, is dead at night;
Summer mornings oft’ become wintry evenings 
And everything that breathes sometime must die;
Music does fade, and poetry ceases to intrigue;
Tales do not amuse, and paintings are oft’ stolen; 
Sculptures once made are tried by the wicked sun 
And spring’d gardens become summer’d deserts.
So, you see, not the burning sun, nor the changing weather
Nor anything as ambitious as my childish craft 
Can I compare your strange beauty to,
Since that which you are eternized by, resides in you!

— Efe Chesterfield
Categories: chesterfield, art, black love, humor,
Form: Free verse


Premium MemberChristmas Memories

Christmas, as I recall, felt magical;
happily hanging up our empty socks.
And the Christmas tree would be all a twinkle;
as we tried to guess what was in each box.

Our entire house would smell of gingerbread,
pumpkin pies, cookies, and sweet-scented pine.
After Mom basted the Christmas turkey,
we'd open our gifts; our whole world felt fine.

While Mom was busy preparing dinner,
Dad would take a nap on the Chesterfield.
Christmas carols played on the radio,
and home didn't feel like a battlefield.

Precious moments in time that tend to last,
childhood memories of a Christmas past.
Categories: chesterfield, beautiful, christmas, dad, feelings,
Form: Sonnet

Another Time, Another Porch

Once upon a corner in the City,
An old porch of craftsmen days
Vine winding posts and bannisters and rockers,
Drawing one and all on their way.
Afternoons were busy with our mother,
Rocking, mending and meting out wisdom;
Children resting from lawn cartwheels,
The paper boy stopping for advice about courting.
Scents from the gentle boiling of beans
Blowing freely in the fresh spring air;
Shasta daisies wrapping its foundation,
Bermuda smelling fresh from mowing.

And

There was laughter and lemonade, and
Newspaper, movie magazines and song sheets.
Young marrieds’ visits – women stay at homes, then
Stars began twinkling at twilight,
Father his Chesterfield, mother rocking at his side,
Recounting their day, children gone inside,
About Mister This and Mrs. That,
Teasing and whispering undying love to each other,

Where have these gentle times gone?
Categories: chesterfield, nostalgia, sweet,
Form: Free verse

Come, Aanu, Fly Away With Me

Come, Aanu, fly away with me,
And let us nestle in our own tree.
Through vales and fountains and hills
And savour the sweetest wintry chills.

Let us probe the lilies in the fields,
And the earth from which every myrtle yields;
And we will feed on the finest of worms
While the coy sun our colourful din warms.

Then we will challenge the moon to an am'rous fight,
And inquire whose is the brightest sight.
We will glide through the frosty wind,
And storms in which some peace to Find.

And we will glide through the misty clouds,
Seeing fond lovers kissing in their crowds,
Or singing lullaby by the glistening streams,
Plotting mischievous dreams.

And I would spin you nests of finest twigs,
Upon mahoganies, Eucalyptuses and figs;
Hovering through thickest fogs and dew
Bearing blanch roses in my beak for you.

We would leap from cliffs with no doubts or fear
And build an empire in the stormy air.
I should watch you like an owl at night,
Before we make our final flight.

Come, fly away with me my LOVE
And we will all vagaries REMOVE
Till we conquer most prominent HEIGHTS
Beyond mountains, hills and Heaven's LIGHTS!

-E R Chesterfield.
Categories: chesterfield, africa, engagement, i love
Form: Lyric

The Old Man In the Park

He dressed up his best old shirt 
As the sun was just showing her face 
Another walk for his constitution 
Amongst the human race 
The park was beginning to come alive 
With shouts from the softball field 
As he reached inside his faded shirt pocket 
And retrieved a half smoked Chesterfield 
Ah, the music of the songbirds that sang 
And the smell of someone’s apple pie 
And the soaring fowl overhead in the air 
As they glided through the cloudless sky 
He loved this place on Sunday mornings 
When players came from all over to play 
And once he was among these ranks 
But that’s another story for another day 
Some think of him as a homeless case 
And some even says he’s no good at all  
But he remembers and smiles with glee 
Of the time he stood straight and tall 
He traveled across that big old pond 
But a snipers bullet cut him down in Nam 
Although he lived, he forgets sometimes 
He’s no longer attached to Uncle Sam 
Still, he walks this same old walk 
And sits on that park bench for a while 
He then goes back to yesteryears 
And stays there for awhile
Categories: chesterfield, old,
Form: Free verse

Love Story Two

A Love Story 2
Huelva and the Golf of Cadiz and it was August and in the town 
there were laud music and rockets in the air. I had met a gypsy girl
 she wore a white blouse and a red long skirt she wore no shoes 
her feet brown and dusty. Back then I smoked cigarettes- chesterfield- 
they were supposed to be upmarket compared to Camel cigarettes; 
even then I wanted to be different, a cook who could read
 She admired my Ronson lighter it was expensive and no one on 
the ship had a lighter that classy.

She clicked the lighter a few times how she coveted it, but I was 
surprised when she suddenly ran away. I thought she ran for fun, 
 she would come back: she didn´t. Later I saw her she was with two 
gypsy boys and I dared not say anything. I walked back on board, 
borrowed a box of matches sat in my cabin smoking and dreaming 
of her beautiful eyes.
Categories: chesterfield, beautiful, cute love, first
Form: Sonnet

In Chesterfield and Spats

In Chesterfield and Spats


The father of the girl
I stare at now,
as we wait for our morning bus,
stands across the street,
tall and proper in his 
chesterfield and spats.

He is waiting for a bus
that goes in the opposite direction.
He wears a derby,
swings a silver cane,
smokes a green panatela.
Suddenly he pirouettes

and smiles at my daughter.
She takes the same bus
to school every morning.
That night at supper,
I ask her about him.
"Dad, he's super!"

At 12, she knows.
"Dad, he rides the same bus
as me every morning.
He checks my homework
and I ask him questions.
Dad, he knows all the answers."


Donal Mahoney
Categories: chesterfield, daughter
Form: Free verse

Grandchildren

There they are
living within our hearts while
coloring our world like rainbows over the sky
they seem like bits of fluff blowing whilly nilly in the wind
pausing now and again
to take in moments of bliss, laughter and playfulness-

We love them
gently and firmly guiding these
tiny humans that live with our blood flowing through
their veins reminding us of our young lives formerly spent
reminding us of how the world 
appears like a huge unknown

I smiled yesterday
when Rishi said he wanted to watch a dvd with all of us
on the chesterfield with a blanket over us
and then eating popcorn
Leela immediately agreed and we hunkered down
after dinner
grandparents and grandchildren
together again.
Categories: chesterfield, familyworld,
Form: Free verse

My Secret Place

I have a place
I like to go
It is like no other space
From woe to go

It is somewhere
That I can sit and think
About the cat that
Used to wink

Or about the time
When I heard a bell
With that extra special chime
That no one could tell

It’s my secret place
Where I like to reminisce
About the times of old
Of times a miss
The secret place in my heart
That I can get away from it all
And have a new start
Apart from it all




Getting back to life
Out of my secret place
There always seems to be strife
In and around this place

My secret place always is
A place for me to go
And to get away from all of this

In my heart
My secret place is
Right from the start
As it always is

Under the old Gum Tree
In our back yard
Where it is not so hard
To find my secret place








Copyright Karen Chesterfield 2006
Categories: chesterfield, happiness, peace, uplifting,
Form: Free verse
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