Dresses Poems - Poems about Dresses

An intellectual dresses a simple idea in the cloak of heavy and elaborate words, Building castles from long, intricate sentences that rise toward the sky, While the poet, with eyes deepened in the mystery of the world, opens doors to truth, He takes the complexity of life and transforms it into a song of wind and light, Love becomes...

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Henry was not a good painter at all Until he channeled his Grandmother Gall She made him dress in an imaginative way Wearing her clothes and a hairbow gray Henry’s paintings were suddenly very good He began wearing Grandma’s sweatshirt and hood So much better! His spirit guide said, guiding his hand. He painted great but was the laugh of the land. For...

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Dusty little towns West of the Great Divide Where great-grandchildren of cowboys On ranches still reside. Small western museums With local antiquities inside; Native American artifacts, Some horse tack for a cowboy's ride. There among the fancy Are two dresses hemmed above the knee, 20's Jazz Age fashion Worn far from the speak-easys. Caused a bit of an uproar, As they danced on the sawdust floor. Who...

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Over the holidays, I was watching Lisa’s sister little Leeza, she’s 14. She has a rebellious fashion sense and a joyful innocence. She’s still fearless too, and on-God, I hope she never loses that. Too soon though—the disco’s coming to town—the world’s coming for her. It’s the same for all of us, I suppose, but in Lisa and...

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Indigo whispers in denim mysteries, Retelling inspirations, muses On trembling cotton, blessing away Dark fictions with gentle words, Psalms and wisdoms, written in lessons, Breathing hope, faith and love, Remembering the heart, the soul, the spirit, Revealing the light beyond the materials… Rayon dresses, worn on Sunday Worn to weddings, funerals, events Where faded jeans and t-shirt themes Aren’t exactly the best selections, Where hearts and souls...

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Your looks to carry your first impression: Your dresses ! Onlookers to appreciate. It is said ‘ Choose food on own decision, but select dresses on choice of associates.’ Your looks to lie on eyes of beholder. Dress must fit...

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Life is a woman with twilight eyes, wrapped in dresses of unspoken dreams, Walking barefoot through gardens of time, her steps murmur the sonnets of the ephemeral, In a silent dance, a waltz of shadows and light, glancing over her shoulder, On paths where leaves rest, forever falling from the trees of our memory. She unbraids her hair in...

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She dresses spicy with ruffles and satin so bright. We know she’s here, because the air gets light. The chiffon on her sleeves are the palest tan. She dances in high boots, with cutouts that can. Who is her dressmaker the plain women ask. She designs herself says her Great Uncle Flask. He is not always reliable, and a braggart so… We...

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Mama allowed her daughter freedom to dress her way Noncustodial dad who rarely came by wanted to have his say She dresses too provocatively, he said, but they chased him away He had never contributed anything to her, by the way...

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Wondering how fairies obtain dresses? It's because they have fairy seamstresses Sewing with pine needles and spidery Gathered from spiders fine web filigree. Pretty petals for fabric, leaves for shoes Smelling of sweet fragrant floral perfume Flowers to adorn their flowing tresses Crystal star droplets sown into dresses. Gossamer to turn into fairy wings So fairies may fly in sky, revelling Sprinkles of fairy dust,...

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The irises, In van goghs, Dreamy canvas, Sway, Like lovely ladies, In purple gypsy dresses, To a still lilys sonata, As the roses and sunflowers, Sigh in vivid chorus, And hues Reynaldo Casison...

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My mother was a perfectionist. A seamstress who made all of our clothes She would look at a dress in a window Run home and make it but prettier. I did not have a store-bought dress until I married. It cost $19.99 and I was askance! How dare they ask that much! My husband had to send me back to buy it....

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I still have my own teeth, My hearing's mostly unaided, I still dream about girls In white dresses with sashes, But sometimes I feel Out of sync and frustrated When I wake up alone And the fantasy crashes. I didn't mind growing up, But growing old's overrated....

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Lamplight waves stretch across the river as the snowfall casts its glassy arms across the shimmering river. Wreaths hung on lampposts exude cheer to passers-by as Sol bows his head for a moment of pre-twilight silence in this idyllic place. Fireside chats reverberate from among the snow-laden rooftops and the soft whispers of falling stars cast their whispers to the early winter winds, beneath...

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She is young, and it is twenty twenty two I was not expecting her to dress like a Bohemian Not realizing it is the style, as I am older and not stylish now She is my granddaughter, and is musical Another surprise since I cannot clap on rhythm She is darling in her bell bottoms and her fringed vest She would...

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