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eileen mcgreevy Feb 2010
Now then,(Clicks fingers and stretches out),,,I know you men out there will think i'm all cahoots,But i need to vent my feelings on the, ever, splendid, boot,There,s black boots white boots, really outta sight boots,Baby boots, Mummy boots, ever just so yummy boots,X boots, Y boots, black patent leather thigh boots,(MMMMMM)Flat boots, high boots, heels like a needles eye boots,Work boots, shopping boots, **** , real eye popping boots,Going to visit mum boots, feeling very glum boots,Welly boots, smelly boots," i'm just watching telly" boots,Car boots,"?" truck boots, "come on babe, let's ****" boots,All these boots and more would make a woman want to swear,But guys, you haven't heard me go on about our underwear!!!
Just a wee attempt at trying to help you guys understand the importance of boots!!  Copyright solely by eileen mcgreevy, irish maiden, wiked red witch 2010
Lexie  Nov 2015
Lexie Nov 2015
I have walked so many miles
Never in your shoes
I never seen many smiles
Never been the one on your lips

So many journeys always alone
Many places to go
Where I travel unknown
In these worn boots

In these worn boots I mark
The earth with my feet
God gave me a spark
So the earth I enflame

Every journey a mission
I walk with these boots
Some stop, and they listen
To the words I've carried

These boots are a gift to my feet
Many steps they have made
Whether dirt road or paved street
They make their mark

I could sleep while I walk
My boots know the way
They keep going, they never stop
It is a path ever-trod

Ever to encompass the earth
Until I walk home
To my humbled birth
Deep inside your heart

These boots I stomp at the door
Like a knock to the ground
I love you, do you know what for?
Because you gave me these boots

You knew I would always walk
And didn't want me to forget
You couldn't follow, wouldn't stalk
The person who let me go

Wanted me to remember, those times
You were my rest
You colored me between the lines
Now you carry me

With these boots on my feet
I will find a way
A way for us, again, to meet
At a crossroads

Intersectable, so connectable
Like Lego bricks
We are built, unbreakable
This love, unmistakable

I don't always like
What you have to say
Never will I strike
You, and walk away

A promise that comes from  a past
A promise it is
A promise that will promise to last
My word.

So these boots continue
To carry promises
To walk, because I miss you
Just to be closer

Even if I never touch your heart
I know we
Are never far apart
Not in my head

Boots to ***** in the dirt
To find you
Boots to wear, when we flirt
Or any other time

Boots a map to my home
To find you, my love
So I will not be alone
Just me, and my boots
RW Dennen  Aug 2014
Door Smashers
RW Dennen Aug 2014
Smashing boots on doors,
splinters fall like rain.
Smashing boots on doors,
children feel the pain.
Smashing boots on doors,
granny's years of age.
Smashing boots on doors,
Mom and Dad in rage.
Smashing boots on doors,
panic sets the stage.
Smashing boots on doors,
Iraqi freedom fades.
Smashing boots on doors,
like thunder in a storm.
Smashing boots on doors,
an innocent family torn.
Smashing boots on doors,
a brand new hatred born.

RW Dennen  (c)  11/24/09
As I say war is not a natural state of man. In the year 2004
the insurgents were spilling over Iran into Iraq around border towns. This was one of the low points for our forces,
we were losing soldiers fast. I know that our troops or at least most were forced to do this. Because tracing an enemy
was most impossible and most acted in defence. This act must have traumatized a lot of our troops. Because by nature
most are good kids. They're kids to me because I'm 74.
(Not to be condocending) Thank you, go with peace.
Helen Murray Jan 2014
"Boots for sale . Boots for sale.
Who will buy my beautiful boots?
They are crafted with broken hands,
Designed individually, beautiful boots."

"What is the price of these beautiful boots
Crafted so carefully with broken hands."
"The price is a pure heart within a dead body
Resurrected, clean, by the Blood of the Lamb."

"What will I do with these boots you are selling me?
Where will they take me, all washed in this Blood?
They will take you to mountains all craggy, majestic.
They'll never wear out till you complete the job."

"And what is the job I must do with these boots on me?
Where are these mountains that soon I must climb?"
"These mountains are everywhere. Cast your eyes round you.
Their summits are glorious, their victory sublime.

It's you who must yearn for them, cry for them, live for them,
You who must ***** up them breathing your fire,
You who must plant our flags right on the crest of them,
Make them the cynosure of human desire.'

'How can I yearn for them, cry for them, live for them,
***** up their rocky tracks yet breathing fire.
How can I carry a great waving flag up them
Too many enemies . Think I'll retire.'

"You're not a Jonah. I bred you for greater things.
I'll deal with enemies they're in my hands.
Yours is the task just to excel in holiness -
Every wee part of it. Holiness stands!

Simply draw near to Me. History is in my heart.
Use your great talents and display My name.
Hide not your trust in Me. Speak it out joyfully.
Just be ye perfect and true without shame.

These boots will not wear out. They'll reach the mountain peaks.
Seven tall mountains you'll claim for the flag.
Look at the enemy. They'd like what you have!
So you can give it them. More to be had.

But don't plagiarize my Name, hide the annointing.
Shout from the rooftops that JESUS IS LORD!
Do not pretend My blood can be rejected
While yet all My blessings are cutely absorbed.

This is the lie that all men must face up to.
I am the Truth that will light up the way.
You are the torches I chose from eternity
You are the ones who will light up the day.

You are the troopers who'll take every mountain.
You will not flinch before death. It is dead!
You climb those mountains and take them for Jesus
The bridegroom who's coming so soon to be Head.

These are the mountains I've named for the taking.
Media first, moved by terror and fear.
You will redeem it by truthful reporting
And seeing the visions that Jesus holds dear.

Second is Government. Take its high places.
Don't be afraid of its big brother frown.
Third, Education, the heart of our children
Who need, above all things, in Truth to be grown.

Fourth are the Finances. Greed is the notion.
But Greed will fall heavily as giants do.
Fifth, Celebrations need Life at their centre,
And this is rejoicing with hearts pure and true.

Sixth is the Mountain of Family Unity,
Bleeding and tearing our children apart.
Fire of the fathers will take on this mountain
While mothers' sweet gifts set the family heart.

Last is that towering mountain, Religion,
That covers the truth with it's layer of lies.
Hear what the Spirit is telling the prophets
And see what he'll do with his wonderful spies!"

The spies of the Spirit are those who see Heaven,
Who hear and declare what the Father wants known.
Harold r Hunt Sr Nov 2014
They wear their boots
For over 234 years, they have worn their boots.
They walked the mud of bunker hill
The snow of Gettysburg.
Through the valleys of Italy and France.
They wear their boots with pride across the world.
Each American in their own boots they do march..
They shine those boots to march down  main street.
With their heads all high and tall.
The American soldier fills those boots they wear.
Blood sweat and yes tears drops fall on these boots.
But they are worn with freedom by design.
Each soldier wants to die with their boots of freedom on.
C J Baxter  Jul 2015
Boots n Cats
C J Baxter Jul 2015
They dance tae boots n' cats
like ants being crushed by boots:
Squirming, wriggling, writhing
wae jaws scraping the flare.  
They scurry like wee rats
under the ground in cahoots:
snidely sneaking, snitching
under the boots n' cats they blare.

"Boots n cats urr booming doon yer ears.
 Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years.
 Boots n cats will perforate yer ears.
 Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years"

But then sumday changed the beat:
         It Came in oan the and.

And everyone forgot how tae dance.
Eliana  Dec 2013
Combat Boots
Eliana Dec 2013
I sit here, at the edge of my bed
Stooped over my feet for these long minutes
As I make butterfly knots of the laces
Pulling loops, in and out
Dust rises as the cords relearn their ductility
My tugging leaves friction burns on my hands

My combat boots have missed my feet
I wish the same could be said in reverse
But though I luxuriate in the sheer strength of them
Their weight does not lend my legs vitality
For they do not belong to me
My combat boots are yours

I rise and take my first step
The heavy sound makes me turn my head in search
Though I know I will not find you
As I find my stride, my feet swing easier
And I feel the impact against my ribs
Where once combat boots had broken them

I walk on, meeting soldiers on the way
I see their boots dragging them onward, downward
You are calling them to you
My feet pull me towards the chasm
And death, where you await me
Your smile a broken promise of forever

I yearn to break into a run
I know not which direction; escape or reunion
But still my boots weigh on my steps
And I cannot fly, for flying is escape
If I wanted to flee from you
I would not be wearing combat boots
Caitlin Fisher  Oct 2014
Caitlin Fisher Oct 2014
Baby boy in baby boots
Ruddy reddened caligae
On ruby crowned Caligula

He fills the shoes
Red shoes, blood shoes
Blood boots, blood red
(Too red) too well

Grow into your boots
Blood boots, blood shoes
Silk shoes, soft sheets

My sweetest son in soldier’s clothes
In army boots, with baby’s blood
In baby veins, in baby boots

My starlit son the demon king
In purple robes, stained amaranthine
Laurel crowned on merlot hair
On baby's head with baby's boots

My withered king, my sweetest son
In little boots with a baby's sword
Made Rome as red as his merlot hair
And amaranthine robes
And ruddy boots
Jackie Mead Feb 2020

Raincoats and Welly Boots.
Go together like
A pantomine tale and mother goose.

Raincoats and Welly Boots

Little girls and little boys;
playing in natures endless supply of toys.
Walking through puddles, almost knee deep.
Splashing in mud pools, mud covering their feet.

Raincoats and Welly Boots

Wearing Raincoat and Welly Boots
Splashing, laughing not a care in their world
Should be the entitlement of every boy and girl.

Raincoats and Welly Boots

For just 5 minutes
Discard your black shiny shoes and Italian suit
Put on your Raincoat and Welly Boots
Remember when once you were young
Splish, splash, splosh oh what fun

Raincoat and Welly Boots
Thomas Newlove Dec 2015
When I was younger in a different time
I had a habit on a special date,
Or on an occasion, to write a rhyme,
Often enough, because I'm a cheapskate.

So as Christmas swiftly soon descends,
And I've but my heart to claim as loot,
I write this story for a special friend
About a Giant and his Little Boots.

You see, these two made quite an awesome pair -
A lanky lad with lanky giant feet,
He'd often smile as people'd often stare
As he'd walk with Little Boots about the street.

A friendship in college they did form.
The Giant couldn't have asked for more.
His Little Boots could help weather a storm
Or bust a move on the Workman's floor.

Those Little Boots helped through thick and thin.
When he was in his darkest places,
They'd help him smile and let light back in
Or send him gifs or silly faces.

He knew they could take different paths -
Boots, like friends, can tread through the rough,
But nothing could silence the joy or laughs -
The friendship was made of stronger stuff.

And so they lived, as friends, forever,
The Giant and his Little Boots,
Strolling down life's roads together
Making it big time, in cahoots.
My friend is almost five feet tall and I am six foot five and Little Boots is my nickname for her.

— The End —