the vampire ball will be held in Salem for a lark
a place where witches don’t like to be after dark
I went anyway, with my cousin Glud
For he loves gruesome stuff, gore and blood
I was dressed in the brightest purple I could find
with homemade black tulle ruffles, the stiffening kind
it was low cut, so my neck could be easily bled
In case a vampire needed to be diligently fed.
I am wearing a garter belt that is satin with a bow
Attached are old world hose, silky ones that flow
My high heeled shoes are painted red on the bottom
The vampire ball is held, of course, predictably in autumn
I am expecting a blood-letting, without benefit of leeches.
I have already had that happen at one of the beaches
a handsome vampire will dive down and take my hand
And lead me through his silver tongue to the promised land.
My cousin Glud has been told to get lost when he arrives.
I expect my handsome prince to come down in fancy dives
He will be wearing a tuxedo that matches my satin dress.
We will be such a great twosome, I’ll have to attend church and confess.
Categories:
tulle, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme
From her delicate wings a fine powder exudes and lands on the ground
by the light of the blue harvest moon a touch of Pixie Dust, in nimble magic !
Harmonious weaving, intangible strands of music coming from the sphere
sweet and beautiful arias, melodious twittering from a fairy wing's enfold
Wings not made of nylon, cellophane nor iridescent tulle but made of silk
like spider's webs tough and resilient from the Master Spinners pedipalps
Appendage wings made from embryonic liquid from ejected Neutron Stars
like butterflies they flit and fly through air currents, landing on little twigs;
Fairy dust of old as ancient as the parallels from this world to the next
dare say I, ... if ever you have been subjected to their fairy dust appeal
then flying limbs you shall receive and like it or not you will fly away
inside a land of pure magic where every thought is like a sweet reveal
From her delicate hand a sweep of the wand resting easy on your shoulder,
one single dose is feathered on you and suddenly, you are able to hold her !
Categories:
tulle, analogy, fantasy, magic,
Form: Free verse
ruffles frill up every kind of dress
add tulle and you have a real mess
fru fru and poufs bouncy and pink
as feminine as fox fur and mink
Hawaiian pearls and high heels shoes
this gorgeousness chases off the blues
Categories:
tulle, fashion,
Form: Rhyme
Written: August 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Mark Toney
***********
Corset of steel tightens—ratified pain,
Vestigial breath trapped in ischemia thrall.
The ductile hope failed to placate
This Pyrrhic ache, this woebegone gall.
A sojourn in the squalor of soul,
Where sylphlike dreams maunder, downcast.
Ogle the embers of the miraculous nexus—
A seraphic visage lost, quickly.
Vivacious once, now virile with woe,
Panacea tastes of pabulum, slipshod, and cold.
Tinkling memories coruscate as zeugma—
Bright, yet untoward, they never hold.
Quixotic penchant for connection,
Grasping too late the nebula beneath.
What puissance is this—this throe, this tumult—
When tulle-wrapped love meets a gyre of grief?
Ululation beneath pavonine skies,
Adumbrate every glance, every sigh.
Crimson weave keeps a skirt in place,
Valuable, stained, adorned, and slain.
Categories:
tulle, analogy, character,
Form: Free verse
Skies sparkled with snow diamonds drifting through
the magic that surrounded the effervescent darkness.
The tulle breath of the forest spirited the moonglow
in a spritely capricious demeanor and addressed me as
… it spoke …
of the curious sounds seeping from the lavender mist.
Moon and stars joined to illustrate a tale of strength
behind the human laws of moral theory and bid me
… harken ...
for in their story was buried the essence
of the earthborn plight to live, to love, to hope,
and to ascend the sangria stones of immortality.
As the moon opened and began to spill,
… I listened …
offended by the grape and Tyrian wafts
of desire, hatred, indulgence, and greed.
My silvery tears rolled violet down my cheeks
illuminating the raisin-hued darkness.
Sadness washed over me with sparkly specks
of magenta moon dust manifesting through lacy clouds.
As dawn crept in, it brandished the cold, corrupted,
hateful thoughts and spread its orchid enchantment.
Beauteous shades of periwinkle enshrouded the sky
… and sang …
Categories:
tulle, fantasy, humanity, night, sad,
Form: Free verse
like
shadows in
a slow-turning
waltz, they drift—
soft, unsummoned sighs
from corners of the mind
where dust forgets to settle,
and yesterday pirouettes silently.
dreams once bright now fade, tulle
trailing in twilight, ankles kissed by
cobwebs of sleep. Each step unwinds
the golden thread of almost-memory,
echoing rhythms never quite born,
never quite gone. They circle,
spiral, shimmer, vanish—
the dance of
forgotten
dreams.
Categories:
tulle, dream,
Form: Concrete
Lavender gingham dress
Teensy tiny cotton checks
Laced pinafore with dotted Swiss trim
Thick scratchy twirling tulle petticoat
Lacy white Sunday school gloves
I twirled my dress in my shiny patent leather shoes
Feeling enormously pretty
Categories:
tulle, memory,
Form: Free verse
***********
Dancing with shadows in my room, dispels all
specters of gloom.
I envision the young Panagiota,in tulle ballet gown.
Bowing gracefully to her audience.
Oh, my how she made young men swoon.
At sixteen,lovely, nervous, her ballgown of sequins,
satin, lace and white.
Bowing to an audience, holding long scarlet stem roses,
on her special debutante night.
Years later, I see her learning belly dancing in Greek town,
on a lit stage.
"Always do something new"' was engraved on the top of her
lfe’s daily, exciting page!
She could never be still and sit quietly on any chair!
If a dance floor were ready..you can count in it, Panagiota's
feet imnediatelly would be there.
Between dancing, for Panagiota, there is always soul-love!
So sacred, so intimate, so unique..
Her heart rhythmic, yet soft as a young turtle dove's.
11/1/2024 Poem 3
Categories:
tulle, celebration, dance, imagery,
Form: Rhyme
He taught his bird
A bad word then
Wife heard the word
She had bad sight.
He was quite scarred
Just right for her
He tried to spell
Can’t do well, sighs
To hell with it
New clothes to wear
A new hair do
Can’t spare more cash
Black eye would mend
A good friend mad
The end is sad
looked for his tin
what a grin now
In bin its tossed
Rained when they met
Such a wet greet
They get all dried
Her dream come true
She wore blue tulle
Her new dress shone
Categories:
tulle, sad,
Form: Than-Bauk
The large black rat snake established residence inside.
When we try to scoop it up she is keen enough to hide.
She slithers and swishes in a kind of frantic frenzied glide.
I hope she does not appear and scare our newest bride.
This is a wedding dress store, full of tulle and pearls from the tide.
We do not want to advertise that we have a resident snake inside.
It might frighten away our customers, and grandmas of the bride.
I hope that if we cannot catch it, the snake will continue to hide.
Categories:
tulle, animal,
Form: Monorhyme
What a gorgeous hat for the Derby someone whispered to Lee
Several cousins turned to stare, they seemed jealous to me.
Using words like persnickety, nasty, ridiculous and such
I thought they were crazy; I liked this hat very much!
The turquoise color reminded me of the deep blue sea
Pink fluffy stuff looked like chiffon tulle to me
I especially liked the pops of fluorescent green
The cousins poking fun came across as jealous and mean
Categories:
tulle, jealousy,
Form: Rhyme
Lilian invited us to her recital
she was a quintessential tomboy
We could not imagine her in a skirt
Or as a dancer
We attended anyway, for she was our friend.
We had always seen her in bulky sweats.
We had no idea she was light on her feet
or that she could look girly.
The prima donna was a whirlwind of activity
she looked like a bonfire, popping in oranges and yellows
Glitzy sparks appeared to leap from her tulle skirt.
We were mesmerized, was that Lilian?
She held us captive with her beauty.
We would never see her as a lumpy tomboy again.
Now that we had seen her as a dancer.
She was exquisite, the quintessential ballerina!
Categories:
tulle, women,
Form: Prose Poetry
Movement pivots lid lifted, Pandora astonishes
Actions perpetual pirouette dancer acknowledges
Glamour glues sockets smooth, figurine believed
Image incorporates graceful, a fighter bereaved
Curtsey in zenity as her stage lazy susan circulates
Tulle tickled hips scissor, treasures sage congregate
Rules spurred by war spring away from delicate damsel
Intimate fleshpink stretch legs enter audition to dazzle
Craft to elicit captivation tunes ballerina's true energy
Kills a brash sword brandishing cavalier, buried enemy
Entertaining Eighteenth of January
MAGIC TRICK
Categories:
tulle, age, beauty, celebration, cinderella,
Form: Couplet
a glint of sapphire eyes
behind a veil …
the tulle has yellowed,
gems sparkle still.
November 10, 2022
Bitesize Poem No. 55 Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier, sponsor
Categories:
tulle, love, marriage,
Form: Free verse
Curled up on the floor. In the middle of the day. I dream.
Images of hats and pills come out of nowhere.
“I visit my garden each morning
searching the ground to see
if the unused pills I found
in my mother’s pill boxes,
and planted, had produced
a rose or purple Phlox.
I buried her tablet boxes,
buried them, like tiny coffins.
I lined the miniature graves
with crushed blue velvet,
(like the cases that stored
her elegant forks used only
on special occasions,
at four o’clock tea-time,
the cake served primly
on gold-rimmed plates).
Treading through the wet grass,
rootling through the fertile soil,
I saw, without surprise,
blue hats growing wild,
velvet and tulle,
pills and sequins
scattered and whimsical,
my mother decorating
their botanical brims
with silver cake forks
tied with ribbons”.
I wake up,
eyes blurred,
I can barely see.
I make a cup of tea,
cut a slice of currant cake,
and eat it with a small,
antique English fork.
Categories:
tulle, blue, death, dream, garden,
Form: Free verse
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