Short Corduroy Poems
Short Corduroy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Corduroy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Corduroy by length and keyword.
Silken seduction
Corduroy like going home
Denim desires
Satin swish swirling
Velvet voluptuousness
Lace laughing lightly
How swiftly my thoughts fly now
to corduroy pants and caps
Facing a howling northeaster
whistles, the rally of hunting dogs
~ the pointer locked, stock-still
Corduroy blue sky
Sprinkles magic dust
In the crystal air
Orange-yellow poppies
Refuse to close their eyes,
While the blue oxen plow
The olive green fields,
East of Eden
My loved ones gone
visit dreams of
cyan fields and
pixie cloud skies.
Is it a cruel trick
of the mind?
Or moments, out
of space and time;
caught in the weft
of our corduroy lives;
a small gift granted
to our past or
future selves?
Carpenter Handy Dandy Livin With His Mommy
There's a man named Handy Dandy
Wore corduroy pajamies
His mom loved him sadly
For he was a 47 year old carpenter
He still lived with her
Still fixing every single floorboard
Handy Dandy is a good boy
A mother's joy
10/28/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
Thank you, India!
Thanks for your skill with fabric.
Thanks for your looms of magic.
For centuries in our World,
Your cotton threads were firmly twirled.
Thanks for clothes that keep us warm,
That help save us from the storm,
But there is one swatch that brings me joy.
Hail to that awesome wonder,
Beautiful, beautiful corduroy.
Thank you.
Is your shirt buttoned up too tight?
Are your pants up in your crotch?
Do you live in your mothers basement?
Do you keep that corduroy jacket with patches on it elbows
back from when you thought you had something original to say?
Do you have tenure in a local community college?
Well then, you might just be an over-educated, low IQ,
poetry critic.
Just wave goodbye again
and wheeze as you dance away
in your bed head silly.
And I’ll wait here on the corner
in Pjs and your corduroy shirt
shamelessly improper in rush hour traffic.
And
it came to me today
in the bare soles of my feet
that no matter how many dreams I
filled with tulips and tears,
wheezes and corduroy was the
only promise you ever made to me.
Hey, no fair! We don’t get to wear our pajamas!
I am wearing a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, and pink corduroy pants.
Did you think these are my pajamas? I ask her.
Age five nods her head.
Did you sleep in them? She queries.
I laugh.
No, did you sleep in that?
She looks down, to see what she is wearing.
Pauses a second. I don’t think so, she says.
Five is a lark, always getting me down to real.
.
Down where wild violets dance
To easterly breezes
And purple Irises erect, stiff, and chilled
See
The dog walker shivers
Wishing for an added layer
To top the corduroy pants still worn
Even though spring green
Is everywhere.
My Guarantor: ’Never to get torn’
As it is continually worn:
A brush had had with Goring Horn
But not disfigured: A Hard Corn.
A Corduroy never the worse for wear,
Hard material spotting not a tear;
I’ve noticed: Every new morn
Often seeming The Reborn.
A Corduroy which did refuse
To drop me a lame excuse
For choosing to not gainfully last
And breathe its disappointing last…
A tough blue shirt of mine
I should be honoring with Spanish Wine.
There is a new fashion range
Launching in the spring
And if you are of certain bent
Then for you it’s just the thing
There will be corduroy trousers
With a very high waist
And knitted sleeveless sweaters
To suit every taste
Jackets will be of Harris Tweed
With leather elbow patches
Shirt collars will button down
On a tie that never matches
So when will these hit the shops?
Is that the question I hear?
Be patient it will be with us soon
And it’s known as Boffin wear
Form:
Let freedom reign for the America descendants
Hope of the inspiration of joy and peace
Long last freedom high highest of
The compliment and Corduroy of peace
Understanding and acceptance
Patriotism held for kin of breach
A gift from the French a decoration a symbol as a whole
Sophistication of standards yields to youth
Vision of craft characterize unto the art of conception
Yes I am young hoping to be inspire
Lesson learn and envy of days
God Bless America.