Linen Poems - Poems about Linen

iron on linen an old fashioned smell I loved whiff of memory...

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Out of the autumnal cold you arrive, humbly individuals and families come in. We're setting the linen table, your burdensome famish ends here. Feast with thanksgiving and God's Gospel. ~...

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Can I just, Take a look, At the back Of the linen I sew And the pockets i made Nd the memories new With some frnds nd some lies Nd some things that i knew Intended things that i did... With the patterns of dew With some beautiful color Nd the lines and the curves Some pigmented smile Nd little showed the truth The fragments...

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On the outside she’s totally calm, In her head it’s not the same A little mystery in her eyes, Held up by the devil’s disguise Black hair, Linen and lace Always trying to win the race When she smiles the whole world stops When she’s angry you better run like hell, Where you go it doesn’t matter, Your death will end with a giant splatter On...

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She lived to be the oldest of a staid, unremarkable bourgeois family. Lavender and off-white lace, complemented her black ruffled attire. She played the Granddame with much aplomb, the matriarch of her passionless clan. Occasionally her offspring and her offspring’s offspring came to her for money, a few with questions, appeals, unctuous compliments She offered only sneers, curled and haughty lips. In her days...

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I guess you can only use a rag so long before you're left with a tabloid (I think this was actually a comedian's joke years ago if I remember correctly)...

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In my linen closet There are sheets that go way back. In going through them, I have made A quite imposing stack: The brown and orange flowered ones Of hippie-ish décor; My husband’s, used to cover His old mattress on the floor. Our first set as a couple, With bamboo boughs, colored peach And all the rest on shelves I need A ladder just to reach. My...

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A fleeting glance no need to remove them Specks, particles, of no import ~ a banquet undone...

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And I am captivating pleasantries I am optimistic In my realities I am comforted by my comforter made of cotton silk Etched in gold My blanket embraces me and I am comforted 8/13/20 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr...

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I think of you as my bedroom drapes, Easy shaded armour to the days. Sometimes breaking, sometimes braked. Totally held up inside cliche, We all always behave the same way. The shadows have hungry hands and Your lullaby can't sing Because your throat is linen. I'm captured by your curtain, Thus one thing is for certain.. We must stay wrapped up together for all Of...

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Hot summer sun in clear blue sky golden light pounds down on pavement black searing heat reflects on walls near boiling hot the wet summer air shingles of white reflect to sky captures the heat that lies beneath wire screened windows were no wind blows moist searing heat in stillness lays cold clear water now called forth shocking contrast within the heat freely flows running...

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Oh, lord what’s the use in tryin’? Nothin’s turned out the way I planned. I got the whole world tellin’ me I’m dyin’. Think I’ll just lie here with the Good Book in my hands. I’m on board and bound for leavin’. No farewells from family or friends. Guess in the long run I just broke even while...

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The smell of fresh linen And crisp clean sheets The fragrance of your sweet perfume The view out of the window Looking across the bay The trees on the other side Bordering the shimmering blue lake There were birds swooping low in search of food Ducks and graceful swans floated effortlessly Seemingly in a state of disdain The feel of the cold early morn Seeped through...

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Gossamer, gently cool, brushed against flushed hot face, like water pooled in desert land; softness kneaded with much glad wearing, not unlike the feel of mother's wrinkled hand. November 9, 2017 Knit Your Fabric Contest Sponsor, Nette Onclaud Verse Form...

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© 2012 (Jim Sularz) A stitch, a knot, a sudden tear, some missing counts along the folds. Her cloth was sewn in Life's fine linen, and bordered, in marygolds. Still monogrammed, but mostly worn, in bold initials, RHS. With mauve tear-dropped appliqués, in the center, two silhouettes. For naked she came and naked she left, her embroidered life was sewn...

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