Short Beret Poems

paint
wield brush
master strokes
create wonder
step back to ponder
dive in once more
final touches
sign it
oui...

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I knew you don't go in,
     But I wasn't coming out.
          When you're a fish in the fish bowl
     Going belly up....

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The Red Beret 



Molding faith 
Holding the mystery 
Its breath 
Its weight 
Bouquet 
Decline
Decay 



Marckincia Jean
Free verse
05/02/2023...

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Jocular jokester jetting past Jib.
Joyful juggernaut jousting in jest.
Benevolent benefactor beseeching baby’s bib.
Bequeathing beloved blue beret, belly button the best....

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I love my earless cat-a-moints.
She wears a pink knitted beret.
To hide her lack of ear-filled points.
Cute on her head though every day.

She has a clever hearing aide.
Usually refuses to wear it.
A haughty little parlor maid.
Ignores me ‘til I can barely bear it....

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I witnessed a crime.
The 
suspect was a 
young girl

Be On  The Lookout-

-She wore a rasberry beret
the sort of thing you find in a second hand store

-She was a brown eyed girl with a wiggle in her walk and a giggle in her talk

I swear to god she had kaleidescope eyes....

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My teenage son proudly wears a Che Guevarra beret

         and belts out liberation songs from Bob Marley's reggae,

                                       as he fixes the sink

                                     I hum along and think:

           freedom, duty, twin bullets in life's most deadly roulette!...

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I woke up this morning
Sporting a Beret 
Speaking in a French accent
Parlez-vous francais?

With a scarf around my neck
A pencil thin moustache
Afraid I might have woke up French
A slight giggle to my laugh

With a strong urge for fresh Baguette's
I head to the grocery 
I told my cat that I'd be back
He looked at me... Cest la vie...

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The best
I did.
The wounds
I hid.
Violent spell
And silent smell.
Torn tail
And thorny trail.
Black beret
And blue bubbles.
Strawberry 
Treachery and troubles.
….........
The last
The first
The Foaming Fat.
The past
The rust
The Rotten Rat.
The glow
The crow
The Cunning Cat.
The goat
The boat
The Bloody Bat.
The thrill
The grille
The Groggy Gut....

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I've lost one of my
buttons, oh my
and my eyes lie
too close to my hat
which is flat
like a french beret.
I'm too cute
to be eaten
by a gingerbread
fanatic who will
never know how real I feel
with only three buttons
instead of four
and my shoes whats more
are green.  I mean
I must be seen!
and can't disappear into your stomach!
Maybe, you'll save me instead....

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Girl in red, a dress
                 Pleated down to her knees, skips 
                 Down the lonely street.

                 Man in black beret
                 Sunshades set on face, striding
                 Down the narrow street.

                 Girl turns, sees this chap
                 Hurries her steps, man does so too
                 Girl runs, man runs too....

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My home on native land
I stole that from a T-shirt
Gotta give credit
Where credit is due 

Canada 'eh
Kanata
Iroquois for settlement or village
And here's where I slip in pillage
Pardon my digression
Subjugation segregation
And bad first impression

Gotta give credit where credit is due
I remember being proud of a beret in blue



2018.08.21

Composed for Brahn Bailey's
(your) Country 'tis of thee Poetry Contest...

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My Wife


She elderly now, but wear colourful clothes,
I sat outside the store saw her trying on 
outrageous coats that didn’t fit for her age,
she bought one and a red, jaunty beret. 
She has a hip problem and limp slightly, but 
this little defect is not a hindrance for her.
She is every bit the woman I met forty years 
ago, impossible, unreasonable, yet I love her
more now than ever before; time shall not 
make her old....

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With golden locks and fancy frocks,
She looks just like Faye Dunaway.
She's like a fox, smug as she rocks  
That retro scarf and wool beret.
 
I bet she'd even rob a bank
With sultry smiles and cunning ease.
I'm sure she'd only fire blanks--
A natural and eternal tease.
 
And in this modern day and age,
She doesn't even have a Clyde.
The only star to walk this stage,
She needs no man to grace her side.

With independence as her creed,
She makes a bonnie gal indeed....

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When Alfred was witty 

Alfred, the pianist who insist he is not my father
Told me he could walk on water, 
to prove it we went to where the water is shallow
he sank slowly, legs, torso and his head
I was not unduly worried, 
at the bottom, he walked back to shore
and I gave him back his alpaca and French Beret, but I said nothing
he hadn`t stepped on water only walked on it.
He borrowed my shoes to get home I; his son had to walk barefoot
and he never returned my shoes...

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The Army Beret

My favourite hat is an army beret
That still holds the shape of his head
Woven with wool that has seen better days
Rim hanging from tattered threads
Stained with the tears I have shed.


~~~~

Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
For: Carol‘s contest:  My favorite hat
Awarded:  First Place


Author's note: 

This poem is about my Father's Army baret.
 (A Beret is  a french name for a round flat hat with a tight rim and is  pronounced 
beray)...

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