Short Attired Poems

Capsules
Like 
Attired in 
Corona dress...

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Cap fits the purpose
Attired neat to tread
Smart as a new pin
A snug bug in new rug
Swell-heeled, clad
A shoo-in for sure...

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Auntie Arista Adderlisting
Ate apples appreciatively
Attired in an aba apron
Always asking apprecisively
Are apricots aphrodisiacs
As Auntie abhorred amphimixis...

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HAIKU

~~~~~~~~

moorland... wilderness...
attired in artic whiteness...
stoats in ermine coats...

~~~~~~~~~

2/28/18

Haiku poetry contest sponsored by Deborah Beachboard...

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Covey of nuns
without benefit of wimple

graciously attired 
sport coat, turtleneck, skirt

scurry through the airport
iPads swinging

unaware the turtleneck 
is their Roman collar.


Donal Mahoney...

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He' attired in magnificient apron
smiled to me
his.or mine eyes told
" hey ! i'm here"

Looked elegant without 
anxiety or can I say fear
instead of anxiety

He has some sort of 
FRAGRANCE

I gave up everything to be with you

MY OWN DESTINY...

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Attired
in brocade gown
of shimmering gold, she
strolls elegantly along plush
carpet

woven
in autumnal
blush of tawny leaves; Lo!
embellished in blazing glory,
M’lady!


Autumn Stroll contest by Eve Roper...

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Attired in black and red tonight 
The way you sang was out of sight
Head and shoulders above the rest
Hands down you'll always be the best
The reasons why are clear to me
And to anyone with ears to see
But if they're not here's one that suits
Just s-p-e-c-t-a-c-u-l-a-r in snakeskin boots...

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Political correctness prevails
words dissemble & dissimulate,then
lose their meaning in semantic sounds.
Decadent hedonism,attired in faded
blue jeans,with fundamentalist fury
points its finger here,there everywhere
and for the past apologises yet…. fails,
Alice in Wonderland has
come to pass, but can never last....

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The calendar says April
But it’s winter once again, 
Although the bulbs are up and bears
Have likely left the den.

I bundled up to take my walk
With scarf and gloves and hood, 
Not attired for the season
As I would have thought I should.

It’s a poke by Mother Nature, 
A reminder we should not
Get complacent for what we expect
Might not be what we’ve got....

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A butterfly lights from flower to flower
with golden wings, he whiles away each sunny hour. 
A moth comes out at night, while the world dreams,
guided by the light of silvery moonbeams. 
An ant toils away, working hard for the pack, 
dressing modestly, he's attired only in black.
I try not to judge, as I consider each bug. 
They all have different ways of feeding their mug....

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Smooth-limbed creatures list wayward in passion's grip
   Romantic interludes, the menu fare of their cruise ship
The Captain, tuxedo-attired, dazzles the admiring throng
   Green-eyed maidens swoon his way the evening long

Stars wink to one another on high, knowing nods
   Raising waves higher, the pale moon their demi-god
~ Champagne flowing throughout Night's grand facade...

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Where hazel bushes mix with sturdy oaks
and beech trees densely grow in shades of green
the fairy flowers come in early spring
attired in clothes of violet-blue sheen.
The swathes of bluebells, like a sheet unrolled
before our eyes, breathtaking to behold! 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
This stanza is a Sexain or Sestet.
Contest: One Stanza
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placed 4th

© 14th July 2016...

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Deepest indigo, the ocean chills for the evening tide.
Gleaming lights captured by the still waters, produce a fluorescent glow.
Magically shimmering to create the glisten for her gown.
Attired in royal perfection, her bespoke ensemble more stunning than the sea.
Moonbeams, abundant with radiant sapphires illuminate her picturesque form.
Nothing remains as it is, yet for tonight she will be Queen of the ocean’s glory.
...

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She walks the halls to snuff out breath
 attired in her veil of death
 Soon, the morphine takes its toll
 As she steals their very soul

 They see her coming and lie in fear
 They know the kiss of death is near
 And then she takes their feeble hands
 And leads them to a cold dark land

 Do they really want to die?
 Or has the system gone awry
 They lie there waiting for reprieve
 But it's only death that they receive...

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Clad in a white cloth and jacket
Spotless clean, wonder what magic she does 
To keep so clean, 
In a cluttered Pavement.    
Wrinkled face elegantly attired with a smile
Eyes rise up to every passer by
Pleading but no cry uttered
Need not waste her words, as
Her stare is loud and clear
For many ears to stop by
Who can disregard her eyes that talk?

Mother, haven’t you had any one to call you “Love”?
Or you haven’t called any one “My love”?...

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HUMPTY DUMPTY LAND
Political correctness prevails
words dissemble & dissimulate
lose their meaning as the Mad
Hatter’s manor rules and reigns,
and Humpty Dumpty’s semantics sound.
Decadent hedonism,attired in faded
blue jeans,with fundamentalist fury
points its finger here,there everywhere
and for the past apologise yet…. fails,
forgetting  today can never be 
yesterday. Alice in Wonderland has
come to pass, but can never last....

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When a fiery sun sets for the day
and the sky is awashed in a crimson hue, 
Attired in a brocade gown 
of shimmering gold, 
Lo! my lady, autumn, 
embellished in her blazing glory
strolls elegantly upon this 
luxurious carpet woven in
autumnal blush of tawny leaves. 

There’s a tang of nascent cold air
in the serene solitude
of this mute landscape
weaving a magical tapestry.



~Autumn colors contest by Nayda Ivette Negron...

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Parallel colors go on forever, others swirling and merging,
Hued rainbows and smoky sunsets, from a chaos surging!
Hanging from the Christmas tree, ruby peppermint candy,
And circus clowns entertain us, attired so gaily and badly.

Often seen on animals, birds, leaves and even mountains,
Coloring all the days of our lives, from mystical fountains!
Arrayed all in purple stripes, the mischievous joker is wild,
Sharing this streaked world where very nature has smiled....

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Listen to poem:

The Tree Outside My Window

Outside my window is a tree
with a solitary leaf
stubbornly not giving in
to join the pile beneath.

The tree stands naked to the stars
on a November night
bare to heaven in the fall
as nature deems it right.

Peeking through my blinds 
I’ll see it coated with the snow,
attired like a winter bride
in crescent white moonglow.

This tree outside my window
has been a trusted friend,
whispering upon a breeze
every now and then.
 
11/11/17...

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