Tassels Poems | Examples

sallys boots

Sally’s boots were classy and colorful indeed
She had worn them to play outside with her steed
Better than any fashion boots you would ever need
pinks, reds, lime greens, turquoise and mustard seed.

The only problem is that they were a bit too fancy
Designed by her three sisters Flo, Janice and Nancy.
The silver tassels kept tripping her up, and she fell a lot.
I do not mind, because they are pretty said the little tot.

Lights on the river VII

Bell bodies float lit
red globe lanterns trailing their
tentacle tassels

Peace of Mind

In the mere blink of a nightmare, I found myself rechained 
and trapped where my peace of mind had once before 
collapsed.

The die has been cast, an old challenge from the past, one 
I thought long ago smashed, has incited another battle and
painfully thrashed my peace of mind like collateral damage 
to aloofly leave behind.

It’s twenty-seven years later, and I’m altogether strength-wise 
lesser for this matter.  I’ve got mighty prayers but the sum-total 
of tassels for the best in life have battered and frayed my energy.  
It is retired and at rest, not lying in wait for another day or test.  
Now, I’ve no choice but to fake it, declare it is just hiding and 
there’s no abiding such when it's time for fighting.  

I know I screamed denial, felt a heavy weight disintegrate all 
to black. I remember holding him, sharing a crying jag while 
watching my peace of mind pack. 

My very heart, my special needs son, now full grown and still 
at home, woke me in the night in a state of fright, “Mama, I 
think I just had a seizure.”  The next day came four more and 
my peace of mind took its suitcase out the door.

Summer Nights

I recount the nights of faint, distant glows —
the dimmed party lights of summer —
of silenced streaks of fleeing light, tassels of clouds
adorned in fleeting whites,
on the broad balcony of the west, when the
incidents on the large vestibule of the sun sum up
their lives and times on seasons’ palimpsests.
The wild party closes by the stretch of the twenty-first hour.
Darkness, frightened, creeps in with the stealth of a departing thief,
the coyness and diffidence of an undocumented harlot.
Twilight aids the shut eyes of young irreverent bats;
drunk with summer's furiously spouting liquors,
like the denizens of an unclothed city, they fly low,
with gambolling wings, propelled by unseen strands of evening gales,
shadowing briefly the glints of pimping stars eager to witness the next day’s
orgy.

Meat tassels

You cannot force somebody to love you
but by God haven't we tried to...
at least a half dozen times in our lives.
Likewise, nobody can force you to love them
but by God haven't they all tried
at least once in their lonely eyed lives.
We've all been on both sides of 
the uneven love equation.

Forcing somebody to love you 
is like nicely asking a plutonium tyrant 
to sign a peace treaty...
or convincing a shark to become vegetarian
while tassels of meat are swinging from its teeth.

Rest assured, you don't have to chase love...
just follow that light that's always been in sight
Love will shine through the blackness
like the warm rays of a sun shower 
piercing the heart of a long-cold drought.

I spotted her in the enchanted forest, where the trees whisper tales

I spotted her in the enchanted forest, where the trees whisper tales,
She stood there smiling, like an ephemeral and mysterious star,
Exuding an ethereal elegance, in a white veil that swayed gently,
Tassels like little bells adorned her chic and graceful dress.
Her beauty was an old sweet song that penetrated the soul,
Her aura was a living canvas, a painting that drew curious gazes,
In a moment, a flash eternalized the moment, a gentle touch,
But she responded with a sting, leaving a painful mark on the skin.
I search for the story of this Lily of the Valley in the vast cyberspace,
Ah, what a sublime name and what a captivating presence she hides,
But a deeper look reveals the truth hidden beneath the surface,
Sweet poison under the surface's shine, a play of illusions.
A careful look unveils the secrets beneath the delicate petals,
Like an influencer hiding poison in the pink pearls of her necklace,
The first impression is not always the one that lasts forever,
She is the mistress of illusion, a mix of beauty and hidden danger.

Mister Golightly

... is wearing his tall white top hat 
      Where his brains should be 
Wearing his rainbow bow tie 
      Where his vocal cords should be 
He fancies his dragon cane in his hand 
No surprise his shirt is Hawaiian Kine 
Made of silk with coconuts and palm trees 
For design 
He wore brown khaki pants with suspenders to hold them up 
His socks were knee high green with tassels on top 
But his shoes were the best, better than the rest 
                      All shiny and pointy 
And ready to dance ...

 Dance away    Dance away 
Dance through the night 
Dance, Little Bear 
Dance away       Dance away 
Dance through the day 
Never stop dancing 
Dance away    Dance a way   Dance away 
Dance all ways always all ways 
Dancing without a care

As He chops away, chops away chops away time 
He sizzles and grills fantastic meals from his mind 
For he fancies himself a cook not a chef  
Being chef just seems too sublime

Ivory Flakes

While powdered flakes gently spill from heaven
Like embroidery of gold tassels kissing buds
And hawthorns ,the  frost twinkles and drifts
Into winter’s  beautifully formed marquee,
tangy the vapor of her skin 
wafting into  nightfall’s’ interlude.

Enthralled, I shudder at the rhythm
Of her dance : icicles flitting in liquid
Crystal taps on silver alleys... a  movement 
glossed by the spades of eve’s lanterns:
She is  a mystery, a prayer, a holy angel 
That lays her sparkling white gown 
On pearlized brocade sewn into fabric of snow…
A winter’s luminescence casting an alchemy
That my own fingers, in a pirouette,
unfurl then coil into a solstice's hymn...
The ivory spray of moonlit beads, swaying
 ‘Glory be,  Oh glory be.”

Vassals Espinela

As I collapse on this pillow 
I find that place I can run to;
The hidden path I’ll always know;
Past the stars! Follow midnight blue! 

A step from the sea’s undertow
shrouded in dreams I build castles;
On my salmon robe hang tassels
that capture particles of sand;
Glitter in the palm of my hand,
I’m not one of the King’s vassals.

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 !

Festival

Giant golden castle
Fire dragon with tassels
Lanterns tell story

chartreuse

oak's chartreuse tassels
giving off their rich pollen....
squirrels winter meals

Knowing Mamie

Mamie has a rather shabby coat, it is a mainstay
We all know it; green with tassels, a bit scraggly
It was her mother’s coat, she will never get rid of it
It still smells like her, she tells us.

Is she creepy? A newcomer asks me.
She has not met Mamie yet.
You need to meet her and make up your own mind.
She does, and she falls in love with her.

Like the rest of us have.
She might be wrinkly and old,
She might not have the best clothes
But she has the best heart.

Early Spring

First rose blossom of the season
Spring most definitely here for a reason 
Woods now display varied green shades
Tree blossoms and tassels fade

Inclement weather on a mass fast march
Evident from the sunbeams through the larch
Sunshine returns to grace the day
Storms dissipate, gone for short stay


Easter round corner indicates
Spring is here its presence dictates
Some pleasant warm spring days to enjoy
Welcome a lovely host of daffodils joy      

Written a while ago but did some work on it and now posting.

Whose Do You Think This Was

where did it come from? I asked my couisn.
I found it over there in the chest.
The chest had finally been opened!
I stared at the velvet spider bag in her hand.
It had probably been a distant relatives.
It was fashioned out of turquoise velvet.
There was a beaded spider on it and gold tassels.
Do you want it?I asked my cousin.She shook her head "no".

Whose do you think this was? I asked my mother.
She said “No idea, maybe mom’s?”
I could not see her mother with it.
A chubby farmer’s wife with eleven children
Who always had flour on her apron.
This was an opera bag.
A bag that should have been in Paris or Milan.
Can I have it? I asked.
It was the most gorgeous piece of the Victorian era I had ever seen.
Whatever for? Asked my mother. A woman who despised old things.

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