Grandma used to live in a boat, and she was sometimes rowing
But she got rid of grandpa, who now lives with a gardener who is hoeing.
Grandma is surrounded by thimbles, needles, and fat quarters showing
We always say, “If she is not sewing, then she is sewing”
It might not make sense to you, for you are not knowing
That our grandma is always, and I mean always sewing.
Categories:
thimbles, grandmother,
Form: Monorhyme
The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.
It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.
You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.
The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.
In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the dream felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.
Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.
Categories:
thimbles, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Silt collects at the outreaches of an ancient, murky marsh.
Twisted tendrils of white oleander form archaic symbols.
Deviant rituals, cocooned and lost eons ago, lie awash—
Taken to the surface, unleashed by a cacophony of demonic cymbals.
Now, time suddenly stops by this grotesque swash.
War is waged, and humanity becomes a mere memento, just a collection of broken trinkets in otherworldly drawers, like lost thimbles.
Categories:
thimbles, dark, gothic, metaphor, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
God bless the searchers
wandering through this maze
that we call yesterday and today
the pollen of living on their bee faces
they flicker into our lives
then back to shadow for awhile
their sky mirages always brightening our eyes.
Along the bent path they pick up
bushels of pollen and thimbles of poison
legs growing ever heavy
from the mercuric risks they embrace.
They're the purist type of brave
walking into the pugilist of indifference
with bloody bee faces.
I'm envious of them
God bless the searchers.
Categories:
thimbles, repetition,
Form: Free verse
1950’s walnut what-knot-shelf
small compartments with tiny doodads
crystal doohickeys and miniature thimbles
variety of teensy ceramic trinkets
displayed in woman’s living room
every mother I knew had one back in the day
1950’s go-to accessory for the modern woman
Categories:
thimbles, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
Red shingled roofs rise and sink,
slickly buoyant with new showers.
Cars drive behind cloud-skyscrapers.
The park is soggy with small dogs,
colorful umbrellas are set aside
beside paddling pigeons.
Dewdrops slide over hanging buds,
while lush leaves
breathe their own green aroma.
By evenings tide, an amber shine,
has walked us through a dripping sky,
we are both empty and full,
beneath the warm spill of moist thimbles.
Above us, the washed-out mural of a rainbow,
remains to fish in low ponds of mist.
Wispy showers spray a disappearing horizon.
A soft falling rain lingers between us and tomorrow,
weeping’s that by the early light are rinsed away
by fresh tree-dancing winds,
and the bright beams of children at play.
Categories:
thimbles, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Grandma’s craft cottage was a magical place.
A room with thimbles, embroidery, beads, bits of lace.
Multifarious fat quarters were folded into neat little squares
There was always a hot iron close at hand.
We cousins loved stopping in to listen to a story.
Or tell one of our own, watching Granny’s nimble fingers create magic.
This was our haven, our heart, the epitome of our safe place.
Even though Grandma was gone now, her legacy remained.
Each one of us came by to tell Grandma how much we loved her.
For we felt her presence in this craft cottage
More than any other place we had been that day.
The church had given us no such comfort.
Categories:
thimbles, death,
Form: Prose Poetry
Amestecul his name Spiral Tantu
Who wishes my fiance as his wife
Wast makes her stall to marry me.
Her name Allus, she cursed me in
the detail of there romance. She is
nepasator and unkind. I often wait
for the translation of these details,
oh God am I fool? Am I a fool!
Getzen Kaiser
Categories:
thimbles, film,
Form: Bio
Tiny protection for
Those seamstresses ' small fingers.
Thimbles come in sizes.
Test the samples, ladies
Thoughtfully get right fit.
Thrust on embroiderers.
Threads will become great art!
Categories:
thimbles, appreciation, inspiration,
Form: Verse
Could that ruby throated hummingbird be God?
Fanning smiles-igniting sighs in brief thimbles of time...
To help temper the graying emptiness of our swirling lives.
Then just as quickly as they arrive, they flit away with our sighs.
There's nothing left but twin pits of black and blue regret.
Always testing our hobbled faith -day upon day upon...day.
Praying with all our might for a booster shot
of sweet shimmer from a pristine avian God.
Then a wisp of something arrives, in a silver slip of sundial time
before hopeful moments are scuttled
on the reef of our drifting minds.
Some will call it a miracle.
others will cackle...coincidence.
Categories:
thimbles, bird, god,
Form: Free verse
The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.
It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.
You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.
The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.
In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.
Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.
Categories:
thimbles, poetry,
Form: Free verse
My heart is a drum,
My hands are symbols,
I have a voice like a cat
And people use thimbles.
They plug up their ears
And over the years,
All of my peers have…
Purchased from Sears.
I think I have learned,
That music is lovely,
I listen and hum,
I play on above-ly…
What does that mean, you may ask?
In heavens own orchestra,
I will be correct and on task.
The Master knows my talents
And there is no mask.
His Glory in all things,
His Grace Renown.
I wish I could play better,
If only for now.
Categories:
thimbles, courage, devotion, friendship, guitar,
Form: Free verse
A thousand thoughtful thimbles
On as many thoughtless thumbs
Conspired to throw the throne
By the water's edge on Threadmesomes
A prick on a prince's finger
Produced prints on a Royal blouse
Thimble protection once provided
Protected not the Royal House
They struck throughout the kingdom
Thick leathers and thin garments alike
Proper thongs and pretty things
Disappeared in the Threadmesomes strike
3-24-19
Contest:Pick A Title,Vol 3, Alliteration
Sponsor:Edward Ibeh
Categories:
thimbles, humorous,
Form: Alliteration
Jesus Torment - The Villanelle Of The Bible--
Jesus couldn't stop thinking about the bible
It was just so dear and energetic
Never had he known anything so royal
That morning, Jesus was shocked by the thimbles
He found himself feeling rather synthetic
Jesus couldn't stop thinking about the bible
Later, he realized that the bible was antibacterial
He thought the situation had become rather theistic
Never had he known anything so royal
Paul tried to distract him with a libel
Said his mind had become too peripatetic
Jesus couldn't stop thinking about the bible
Jesus took action like a scheible
The bible was becoming too genetic
Never had he known anything so royal
Jesus nosedived like a imperfect human
His mind became dangerously arithmetic
Jesus couldn't stop thinking about the bible
Never had he known anything so non royal
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
Categories:
thimbles, anxiety, assonance,
Form: Villanelle
Bygone days
Climbing trees
Paper boats
Scabby knees
Duffle coats
Pick n mix
Runny nose
Thrupenny bits
Scruffy clothes
Flying kites
Desperate Dan
Conquer fights
Tins of spam
Spots n pimples
Teachers cane
Hunting thimbles
Bronco lane
Skimming stones
Hopscotch
Nit combs
Chicken pox
Kicking cans
Running wild
Building dams
Fifties child
Categories:
thimbles, childhood,
Form: Rhyme
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