Potholder Poems - Poems about Potholder

Grandmother's potholder is frayed, it had a matching kitchen towel full of bright sunflowers peeking over a fence, given to me as a wedding shower gift years ago, somehow the two were separated from too many moves, the potholder survived years of use and Grandmother didn't, I hung onto the potholder for nostalgic sake, when I had company for dinner...

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You catch and keep my hand from out of the fire ; You embrace mine burning hearts desire; Molding me, comforting my involving my be holding the potholder A blazing urn, you hold; Your earnest soothing touch; Your chilling voice; You keep and kept my heart and body from out to fire; You embrace me my burning desires; Holds me comforting...

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Oh wait dear tiny black grumpy termite Listen to my forgotten yellowed tale Before you ruin my faded crease with a bite How this perky white became so pale Little Tommy had been to a huge fete To taste rubbery sugar candies in red He'd got 5 coins to savour a full plate Candy stall blinked in golden ahead Just then he heard...

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When you handle your hot dishes and set them on table so you can eat You put them on a holder that protects your table from the heat Thats the job a pot holder has to hold your pots when they are hot Or decor to put upon a wall When your pots are not. An oven mitt protects your hands when baking something...

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Hanging around between jobs, on the hook. Enjoying moments, often fleeting, to sneak a look. Overall, grateful for this home and life. Dare I dream you’ll be my wife? I can only hope you feel the same. I’ll be patient until you take my name. As long as it takes, I’ll never quit. A shy potholder in love with an oven mitt....

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I looked at my potholder an thought about The many years it has been around In my head I brought it to life, like the time I imagined that it was dunk on New Year's day When it soaked up all the wine and alcohol That had been spilled on the table It also caught fire on Thanksgiving day When...

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Fecund sewer ingeniously knitted An ornately crocheted potholder was made Bragged her complete oeuvre at first But its worthless in everybody’s sight It may be futile or trifling What can it flaunt is nothing The Cuisiner's hands are sheathed From scorching cauldron was protected No acclaim, no reward travail From first light to nightfall with ill Hard work makes...

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I was poised to trash an old potholder In favor of the latest version bought When the urge to write poetry came strong - "My home is here - without it I have nought" I recognized my Muse at work at once "What can this be?" thought I, and wrote ahead "Long ago this was a Poet Holder - It was...

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Time-worn and hanging there, for many years, next to the newer, thicker, standard ones- it stares at me and stirs fond memories of how much joy it brought to her back then. With large green eyes, that look a little sad, as if to say it misses her and all the hugs and kisses it received- although was not used much as...

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