Sandaled Poems | Examples

LIFE IN A NUTSHELL

Sugar and spice, sweet in dice,
Salt and pepper, melt the vice,
Honey and mint, dreams entice,
Lemon and lime, tangy, precise.

Tickle, fickle, whims unshackled,
Wobble, stumble, life detangled,
Giggles, whistles, sassy angled,
Whirls and twirls, elements sandaled.

Tom and Jerry, amuse the ferry,
Popeye sails in waters merry,
Olive Oyl, with charm so airy,
Is life a small wonder, fleeting and legendary?

underheld

A shadow crossed the room
in the corner of my awareness

A cloud outside somewhere, probably,
but for an instant, I thought that motion was you.

Thoughts of you are casually intrusive.

Maybe you’d crawled into my luggage - and hidden.
There’s a complex birthday candle wish.

Desire owes no deference to logic

When I think of you, my tummy becomes warm satin and I know,
that in your hands, I could be boneless and lusciously obedient.

For a while, anyway.

I remember us at the beach, lounging in deep parasol shade,
how your tanned skin glistened with tiny beads of sweat
and your endless legs stretched out like a centerfold’s.

Or you pulling me up out of the pool, one-handed, effortlessly,
with enough force that I briefly flew, and how you’d gently guide me down.

“What are you doing?” I’m virtually slapped out of my erotic fantasy, by Lisa, who’s standing, exasperated, sandaled toes tapping, purse in hand.

“Daydreaming,” I answered weakly, as I jumped up to get myself ready.

Has it only been four days since I left you?
I already feel tragically underheld.
.
.
A song for this:
Ain't it a shame by The B-52s
Locked Inside by Janelle Monáe

Old Man With a Heavy Load

An old man plods slowly down the rutted middle
Of an ancient dusty country lane, unmindful of his steps.
His calloused sandaled feet know the way,
As he has trodden this path to market for decades,
Or centuries perhaps,
He no longer tries, or cares, to remember.
Time has lost all meaning.
Bowed beneath the heavy weight of years and toil,
He wears the mantle of his life,
Not proudly as he once did in his hopeful youth,
But now the way he bears his cumbersome burden
Of broken limbs and sticks and twigs,
With a resigned and weary sadness as immutable and maimed
As the arthritic stumps and knees of old cypress trees,
Or countless other old withered and withering men
Like him.


Author's note: This piece, dear readers, was inspired by "Man with a Sack of Wood", a sketch by Vincent van Gogh.

Grandpa and I

Grandpa took me to the ice cream store.
On my tricycle, yes, I was well_loved!
What girl in braids, could ask for more?

There were comic books there, too.
Pedaling along, in my white sandaled shoes.
And yes, paste and new pencils, too.

Friendly butterflies and lovely, tall trees
Birds of all sizes, that chirped so merrily.
What lovely days~that gave birth to poetry.


3/5/2023

Shrine

Eyes wide in wonder I entered the chapel
a curious child 
through the back door of the church
candles twinkling in the dim light
streaming through the stained glass
like colored candy
like lollipops
statues of saints standing sentry in silence 
staring soullessly
I startled for a moment as I thought I saw one move
an illusion of light and shadow
from the flames flitting and flickering 
the white wax melting and pooling
Veiled women and bearded men with sandaled feet
A man’s body bloodied and broken 
held in his mourning mother’s arms 
carved in marble
Morbid monuments to cruelty 
A shrine to suffering
The air heavy as velvet curtains
The scent of incense suffocating 
The ambiance eerie and funereal
Was he watching me? Was he here?
I called out
my voice echoing off the brick and stone
There was no answer
I was alone

Dual Obsessions:Santorini and You

Dual Obsessions: Santorini And You


Dreaming of us walking in warm, sandaled feet. 
Between alabaster white stucco homes on a narrow 
street in Greece. 

Sun, so graciously blessing our love. 
Families have aquamarine shutters on the windows, 
to have their privacy. 

Ahead~a lovely white bench for us, just a few more feet 
away. 
To cool ourselves beneath a tall, lush, magenta flowering 
tree. 
Just you and me, how holy can this all be? 

How much more blessed can we be? 
Eternally in love, in blessed, Santorini!


          February 23, 2020
            1pm PST

Dual Obsession:You and Santorini

Dreaming of us walking in warm, sandaled feet.
Between alabaster white stucco
homes on a narrow street in Greece.
Sun, so graciously blessing our love.
Families have aquamarine shutters on the windows, to
have their privacy.
Ahead~a lovely white bench for us, just a few more feet away.
To cool ourselves beneath a
a lush, magenta flowered tree.
Just you and me, how holy can this all be?
Eternally in love, in blessed, glorious, Santorini.




August 9, 2019
5pm PST

A Season Not Our Own

Let’s go where sheets of sea glide over sand, 
Scattering foamy blossoms at our feet, 
And ardent rays shall wounds of winter mend, 
Like suture needles closing warm day’s bleed. 
We’ll bare pallid skin to palm shadows’ arms, 
Open light-starved mouths to drink wavelets’ spark, 
And sated, chorus for tanned seabirds’ psalms, 
Through gold sprays let our naked spirits lark. 
When moonbeams descend to Sol’s embers glaze, 
Shall we then hibernate in sunburned air,  
And to sandaled Sirius lift our gaze,  
Whilst crickets sing of two runaways’ dare? 
O, we’ll stay when far winds have weary grown, 
Still at large in a season not our own.

Week End

Weekend in Cascais
On Cascais glittering Saturday bay, slowly rides a rust stripped
bulk-carrier, sailors on the deck look at the town and think it
is Paradise, from the soot hallooed green stacks, whispering
smoke dissolves their dream of ever going home.
Tourists, fishermen and drunks, the eager and the weary and
the sad eyed mills about.
A blind woman sits on a folding chair sings Fado, Portugal`s blues.
her voice is cracked, but full of soul, she keeps score with 
a tiny triangle the little plink a feint echo above the crowd.
When footsteps fade its faint sound becomes cymbals 
clasped together by men of steel, her voice a storm which
cleanse streets clean.
Every morning Cascais is reborn, a wet pearl arisen from
the green seas, before sandaled feet descend and drown
the day in a cacophony of disharmony.

All Roads

All roads lead to Rome
 
My neighbour’s garden wall is made of stones from the disused Roman road that had stopped going anywhere for ages; smooth stones walked over by mules and sandaled feet. 
No one here used to bother about some old road, now the heritage people 
want their stones back, as do the tourist board, 
who’s trying too hard attract quality vacationers, away from the coast; 
there is more to Portugal than it being Spain’s little sister, aping her big brother. 
When the stones have been put back, a story can be spun 
about a road that never actually went to Rome, but to a quarry behind the hill, 
a hole filled with thorny bushes, snakes and femurs of my neighbour’s ancestors,
 worked to death as slaves by men with Romanesque noses.

An Angelic Presence

An Angelic Presence

Faith can move mountains of adversity in your life
 Amidst the columns of hatred spilled out lies
 It comes in many forms through a disguise of the wise
 Filter through the sun it has tainted my inner vision
 The sound of the pitter patter of soft sandaled feet
 Faith isn't intellectualized it just is
 Through a porch swing balance it will pull you through
 Perhaps we as a society have bitten off more then we could chew
 An angelic presence felt shivering in the night
 Many people today are living by sight
 Out of caged fury yet still it's a matter of heart
 We follow the laughter to the great here after
 Sullen embers frosted through a delicate beam
 Heaven opened the door on what it was Iv'e been waiting for
 Long lines drawn in the sand when will we understand
 God has given this magic touch to a world in quite a rush
 The push to reach the rainbow exposed to the elements
 Never relent nor give up on the fight
 A beautiful flower grows with colors of ardent red
 What is going on inside our head
 An angelic presence amidst life's tranquil moments

A Magical Moment In Time

A Magical Moment In Time

Words can expose the nice scenic view
 Others ponder a new way of escape
 We get lost in a moment in time
 Love has changed to burdened heart to a degree
 Through words we can embrace it's truth
 Many our happy in the honest labor of their hands
 All of us need a wake up call with other plans
 Some having tempers a fire burdened with desire
 A flame arose to the noise of air pollution
 The call for happy dear memories in their nearby plight
 A mind is a terrible thing to waste in the night
 Through a love one can know the duration of life
 Amidst the give in take of strife
 A splash of spice with everything nice
 We are caught in the magical moment in time
 The soft pitter patter of sandaled feet
 Exposed to the elements with no chance to repeat
 A crystal clear vision of granduer in a world in a rush
 We are all present here amidst the battle within 
 A call for freedom to come nestle near the shore
 Amidst uncertainty we may come to know
 Breath deep in with the good out the bad
 Learn to embrace love for that is the master plan

Pretty Pictures, Ribbons and You

Pretty Pictures, Ribbons & You 

We each must take a step of faith in the right direction
 A soldier fighting in the field of grass lives another day
 Something to be grasped amidst the madness of outside
 Words that are expressed in the night have come to light
 A full pledge as we take part in the dance
 Pretty pictures fancy ribbons & you
 Perhaps we as a nation have bitten off more then we could chew
 A dance in the light of a delightful day
 We humbly bow the knee to pray
 Many people sow discord in the hearts of others
 There is no true love anymore for our brother
 In light of eternity this day is far spent
 A light that evokes a twilight appeal to family & friends
 Happy as a lark in the meadow looking for food
 Radiant nights with moon fall all a glow
 The pitter patter of soft sandaled feet
 Pretty pictures, ribbons & you 
 Nothing borrowed or blue
 Bask in the vast array of love from above
 A look deep inside for we have nothing to ever hide

Soon - Goodbye To Summer

Soon

Icy drops of dew like diamonds 
Crunch beneath summer-sandaled toes. 
Trembling trees release their tired jewels 
To risk breezes off northern snows.  

Topaz, garnet and citrine leaves 
Spiral from moonstone blue skies above 
Emeralds lose their hot weather hues, 
Sparrows cuddle, asleep is the dove

Sweet Cottage Home

We trudge and trip
along the slick, stony path
Squishy moss covered rocks and roots
propel our wet sandaled feet forward.

Treacherous trail ends
in a sun washed clearing
Tall pines tower,
solemn totems, encircling
the idyllic patch of heaven
in the woods.

Warm, happy sunshine greets
our cold, damp sandals
now forgotten in 
the glory of arrival!

The sweet, white cottage
with perfect blue shutters,
embracing the dusty, dirty 
panes of glass,
like the warmth of my mother's arms.

Solid fir plank door
cheerful, red apple paint
waits with iron latch, 
ready to welcome us in.

Again and again.....
years, decades, and generations 
of Miller's welcomed back
to their sweet cottage home.

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