Tasseled Poems | Examples

Delusional confusion with a side of freedom

Settling into a meadow brought about mellow flows of green and yellow assembled by memories they float freely on the breeze glimmering clearly off the trees lay reflections of memories like frailed Braille burnt on my mind my life looks back ancestral eyes look down on me through me and within me the realization of life before here and after here becomes crystal clear the land changes without fear the veil that once covered my eyes filling my life with lies has been removed so I set forth on this new land no longer tasseled by the lies distributed by media's eyes I am free to be

S T U V W

Sumptuous sensual satin surroundings
Treasured plush, palatial, plushy pillows
Upholstered sofas, tasseled tapestries
Valued prized spoils of war
Wealthy coffers of the lucky highborn

Double Double Words , Twilight Gleaming

T Tassels of stardust flicker across 
    clouds ' awninG
W Where beams radiant flaunt their
     heavenly appeaL 
I Igniting nightfall to weave more hues , 
  ornatE :
L Livening  twilight's show ,on sky's
    panoramA:
I Into kliegs of this pageant...ray of glory 
  enhances our dreaM
G Guiding our fervor, our trail like a 
     quest from holy MagI; 
H Hope abides now, a lasting balm
    against fears unbiddeN
T Then  to rest, to wish upon twilight's 
    tasseled winG !

To a Turkey

Noble, regal tasseled turkey
prominent, pendulous wattle,
garb of iridescent feathers,
and bright red dangly snood.
Your stately gait pleases my eye
and your beloved, peculiar gobble
sends particular pleasure to my ear
May you forever strut your stuff(ing)!

We All Wanted To Be a Baton Twirler

Twirling their flashing batons in a fabulous fashion
Two high steppers with tasseled boots led the parade
All of us third grade girls wanted white boots now
And a full short skirt with matching panties
And naturally, the giant glitzy light up baton.
Only one of us got a light up baton
It was too heavy for her to lift
which was a bit of consolation for the rest of us.
Especially those of us who had not gotten the boots either.

Never-Say-Dye Spirit

My jet-black tresses and the glossy, glass skin-
Ah! Are they the things of the yore!
The silvery strands instead are now a new lure.
Like a model, I wear a crown of gracious gray
For I know, this pearly wisdom is here to stay!

In gratitude flow and sing these lovely locks,
As my radiant face peers through lush, wavy hair
To reflect a seasoned soul, with all its own flair!
Teeming with toil and agony which fueled 
The furnace of life, carving the crown bejeweled!

In poise glow and dance these lustrous tasseled tufts,
The bounty of beauteous Lord I do proudly reveal
Beyond rash youth, a class I’d rather not conceal!
Every silver line in the gray is an asset dear,
A celebration of life grown richer each gone year.

The silver silhouette is to my forehead
A hallmark of storms weathered; lessons learned in grit
Imbued with faith, I beam the never-say-dye spirit! 
This life in all its ripeness and fulness I embrace
Holding my head high, I call it ageing with grace!

Bal Masque

The dawn of anticipated darkness,
Pierces these gilded walls.
The smoulder of sinister heat arising-
An entombment of dreams.

Let us raise our chalices of stars
To toast these woodland creatures emerging.
From beyond the drapes of tasseled velvet,
Through the seeps by light of moon.

Find the phantoms that dwell in lit shadows;
They stray to the rhythm of unwhispered truths.
Is this magic that lifts these masks afloat?
Oh, look around! There’s one more behind you!

I behold you, silken facade,
By glimpses across the candelabra.
Do you feel the coming
Of our night’s story awaiting a beginning.

Take care to not unmask these veils
For no revelations should come alight.
As our hands embrace and we glide,
Feigning ignorance in only this night.

Parking Lot Meditation

PARKING LOT MEDITATION 

Leaning back on my car hood
the old blue skies have my eyes   
squinting  ion clues of a melody 
wanting to be born of scars in me 
innerspheres humming to a song 
an accompaniment to this show 
of seagulls’ white wings soundless 
in a crowded messaging sky shared 
with jets of travel and wars lost in  
a gleam of black crows eyeing gold
corn tasseled rows in a farmer's field 
beyond this blacktop mall as tissues
catch my blow of sun sneezes in this
Wal-Mart parking lot as micro America
flows through a non-returnable Sunday
we are all too much with stuff and ink 
yet I ponder to inhale what is beautiful 

Charles Eastland

Despite the Bilboes of Casteism

He could see her highly strung face
Behind the cloaked veil
A face taught to behold beautiful turbulent.
He could feel the shiver in her timid heart
And the fearful spasm
Running down her spine.
He held her hand and whorled the bangles
While hundred of foes
Opposing two hearts
Kept their eyes glued in line.
He stained her red; 
By making that vermilion spread.
He jeweled her up with holy beads
And consecrated her with the garnet ink.
She devoted herself to him
When he adorned her nape
With the sacred tinsel tasseled thread.
He could see the love in her eyes for him
And with that sense of relief, 
She embraced him tight
And said in a moist tone
As he kissed her lachrymose eyes, 
'Our love will always bring the holy grail back.'

Love's Course

In the meadow
I am alive
hair tasseled
From my lover
The summer rain
begins  to fall
Washing away secret kisses
Planted heavily on my rose lips
My tortured soul
Awaits our next adventure
Till then your name
Weighs heavy on my heart
Hurting for my soul-mate
To come and find me
In the meadow
Where the weeping willow hides
Our nakedness and tickles our necks
As we are free
From all the onlookers
Who scorn at our flirtation

The Lords of Zephyr

Zephyr,
echo of the eastern wind,
gentle and balmy is thy caress,
your kiss leaves the hardened heart due west;
breath of hope for steely-days,
winds of change whisper fortune,
do they raise the spirits of righteous device,
and speculate to riddance,
of tempests to come,
flee me forever ---
in thy pleasant climes

Spirit of the western wind sings,
thy floral in flowered Spring,
whistle in the wombs of weeping willow hangs,
the grated ground from stretching hands 
(courtship of the tasseled frays)
so human is thy playful ways,
and child-like thy fickle display
(though so earnest is thy whistled word) ---

I leave thee my levity, and forget thee not,
keepsake to keepsake; when the hour is late
and the icy-ridges of doom do renounce and boom;
in the breath of my end days 
sing in my ears once more
(the coda of drummer calls)
and play thy earnest tune,
in the vestige halls of evermore
(I do wait)

I'Ll Cry When I Can

Barney backpack,
Cowboy Boots,
Little tow-head
boy. 

Tasseled  hat, 
Winners robe,
Fine young
man.


Issued backpack, 
Army boots,
Future straight 
ahead.

I'll be okay when
you leave, Then cry
when I can.

Blonde Curls

Tasseled blonde curls blown by the breeze
Playing with the blonde puppy geez
Total look on her face of tease
Delightful child whom none will displease 

Sweet puppy with fair fur that does please
Grand twosome joyful playful ease
God's design is wonderful for these
Child's games, puppies' antics appease 

Written: June 12, 2016

Blonde is a feminine form of blond and blond is masculine..It can be used in 
a not nice way but this is strictly meaning a female with blonde hair..

Inspired by the contest Monorhyme sponsored by Laura Loo

Mystical Kingdom

When dreamtime leads me to a mystic land
I saunter quietly ... climbing a hill,
For the kingdom of fairies and elves reigns
With gossamer wings and jewels in their hair.

A sapphire castle laps with ambient winds
Robed in diamante from godly hands.
Sweet mist of air and silver voices echo
Through quivering rock pools of hawthorns green.

This lofty place thrills bright imaginings
Upon glittered sands like tiers of limestone,
Hard marbles and finely-polished pebbles
Lie dotted through rainbow of stardust ,untold.

Tasseled wands bestow spells on the courtyard
Beguiling my eye with pixie- waltz steps
Until, at the height of enchanted awe
Fairy Queen lends magic, then fades in dreams!



Second Chance # 3 Contest of Broken Wings
Posted  4/21/2016  
Judging Finalized  4/27/2016

New Birth

The corn is sweeping low;
her tasseled head is bent,
as dying souls lament
about the waning glow.
This life too quickly fades,
thin mists that pale the glade.

In furrows dark and dry,
the kernels, hard, that fall
beneath the autumn squall,
now lie alone. Awry
the seed the wind propelled
to propagate the veld.

So life reflects the corn
that dies to bloom reborn.

Copyright, August 16, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson

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