Best Funnybeautiful Poems
Sangria…
Fruity wine with a hint of alcohol
Sangria Sangria Sangria Sangria
A tutti fruity wine with hardly
any kick at all
Sangria Sangria Sangria Sangria
Sangria!
I’ve just had a glass of Sangria
And I don’t feel a thing
It doesn’t have the zing
I need
Sangria!
I’ve just added gin to Sangria
And suddenly I’m high
I feel like I can fly
With speed!
Sangria
Gulp it down and you will be stinking!
Sip it once and you’ll find yourself thinking
Sangria
I’ll never stop drinking Sangria
Fruity wine with a hint of alcohol
Sangria
Parody of "Maria" from "West Side Story"
Maria . . .
(sings)
The most beautiful sound I ever heard:
Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria . . .
All the beautiful sounds of the world
in a single word . .
Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria . . .
Maria!
I've just met a girl named Maria,
And suddenly that name
Will never be the same
To me.
Maria!
I've just kissed a girl named Maria,
And suddenly I've found
How wonderful a sound
Can be!
Maria!
Say it loud and there's music playing,
Say it soft and it's almost like praying.
Maria,
I'll never stop saying Maria!
The most beautiful sound I ever heard.
Maria.
He noticed something rather curious in photos of past generations,
That seemed so rife among the male gender of his relations.
All his forebears were hirsute deprived, or bald if you will.
If this was an omen of things to come, him it didn't thrill!
At age twenty-three he sported shaggy, golden locks,
As thick and curly as that of an Asian wild ox.
He nourished his crop with pomades and tender, loving care,
Hoping he could forever keep that beautiful head of hair!
For some reason at age thirty-eight his forehead did expand,
And tufts of hair clogged his comb - this he didn't understand.
He spent hours before the mirror arranging his sparse tresses,
And in this having little success, just added to his stresses!
A shiny patch of skin mysteriously appeared upon his crown,
And around his ears little was left but wispy clumps of down.
At age fifty-two he had no further need for brush or comb.
There wasn't a trace of hair to be found upon his glossy dome!
For his plight he bought a "rug" (more delicately put, a toupee),
But his friends said he looked ridiculous so he tossed it away.
"Bald is beautiful and so provocative", he'd often heard it said.
Still, he hid his gleaming skull 'neath a snappy chapeau instead!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Slender legs kicking sand,
the wind twirling her silky hair,
something in her hands.
The aroma trails from there to here.
A thing beautiful is happening.
A bikini that only some can wear,
a smile that spreads from ear to ear.
Hips move,
slender legs kicking sand,
and something in her hands.
The aroma rides the ocean wind.
Impatiently …,
I waited for her to come my way.
The sea blues her beautiful eyes.
I have an ocean view from the gaps between her thighs.
Her slender legs kicking sand,
something wonderful is in her hands,
and that smell ...
causes excess saliva in my mouth.
My stare is frozen on her hands,
her dutiful hands.
Now, she stands before me.
My heart beats leisurely;
it usually does
whenever she gives me my cup of buzz,
my steamy summer love.
Four sugars, three creams,
just the way I like it;
hot 'n' steamy and sweet 'n' creamy.
There sailed the good ship vanity,
Named after the gentle dame,
And everything to board her deck,
Was indeed, most vain.
From the captain to the cook,
And all those they took,
From England to fair, sunny Spain.
The Captain was sir Beautiful,
Known to be most dutiful,
And everywhere he'd roam,
He had with him a comb,
To sweep it through his hair,
Before he would declare,
That he, himself, was Beautiful.
The crew would sigh,
For they could not deny,
This unfortunate claim,
(Much as Beautiful was born plain)
Due to his Father's name.
So, they all, through need,
Agreed,
That this man was indeed,
-Beautiful.
One day a brave young man,
Strode onto the deck,
With seeming superfluity,
They challenged him,
That brave young man,
But a beautiful boy was he.
In the subsequent brawl,
They acted the fool,
For this he,
was actually,
-A she,
And no ordinary she,
But the Good Queen Vanity.
Captain Beautiful turned quite pale,
Yet the crew turned rather green,
Then they all turned red with anger,
At the beauty of their queen.
"This is my good ship,
A fine ship she is too,
With you rests her loyalty,
As her name belongs to You."
These were the words of Beautiful,
(I had warned that he was dutiful.)
Then he bowed before his queen.
She rose her head in indignation,
Her pretty face shone before the Nation,
Yet, all she did was smile.
There sailed the good ship vanity,
Everything thing about her vain,
The Steward, the first mate,
Their captive primate,
And even the captain's name!
I once knew a girl,
a magnificent poet.
But when it came down to it,
she swore she didn't know it.
The people of the land
seemed to be the only who knew,
with all the words in the world
what this beautiful girl could do.
It didn't matter the day,
it didn't matter the time.
Wherever she ventured,
she was sure to bring a rhyme.
A rhyme that made people laugh,
a rhyme that made people cry.
A rhyme in which, no matter what,
could never tell a lie.
But when brought to question,
the girl would deny
that she had talent at all.
She'd say with a sigh,
“when one is
as beautiful as I,
one needs not a real talent,
one needs not even try!”
I talk just like everyone else,
but my beauty makes my word
worth so much more to the ear..”
and suddenly she had heard.
She shocked herself with her own ability,
as she smiled, she said, “I know it.”
finally she understood the magic of her words
as she screamed, “I am a poet!”
Perception Skewed by Love
By Elton Camp
Poems always praise lovers to the sky
Due to love, I fear the poets went awry
Her hair is beautiful as gleaming silk?
Why do I not spot any girls of that ilk?
Her eyes are clear pools of such delight?
The girls that I see use theirs only for sight.
Her cheeks are so beautiful and rosy red?
In most girls, they are the sides of her head
Her lips are full and the shape so fine?
Where do they find women that divine?
Girls I notice, their lips look well enough
They’re shaped to talk, eat, and such stuff
Her nose is more beautiful than you can tell?
The women I see use theirs mainly to smell
Her neck is white and graceful like a swan?
How would a neck, long as that, be any fun?
On and on the extravagant description goes
Until they’ve gone from her head to her toes
I wonder how a creature glamorous as she
Interested in any normal man could ever be