Best Married Woman Poems
I shall daily visit the beauty parlor
And make myself beautiful for you.
I shall never clean the house
So that my skin is not tarred.
I shall ever watch my figure,
Eating calorie less foods and drinks.
I shall stay home all day
And will never be stay at home mom
But will go for Disco at night.
I shall not take drugs
But a drink or two in limits.
I shall awake late in the morning
So that you are not disturbed.
I shall adorn the house to earn
Adjectives from the neighbours.
I shall buy the furniture to invent
Nouns to be told to the visitors.
Our house will be all pronouns
But will never admit verbs as
They shake the very foundation.
*** I wrote this poem much earlier noticing a young married woman of a modest family adopting the modern living going astray from the household chores *** Based on a real
person.
The poem was posted on 1/16/2007
========================
Dr. Ram Mehta
Tenth place win in:
Contest: Any Twisted Poem sponsored by Destroyer A Poet
In a world obsessed with sex
when it ends in misery
like it often does
What can they expect.
Call me old fashioned
but don't morals care and feelings matter any more
or is it just one foot in the bedroom
and one foot out of the door.
For me
I need more.
I need love
to feel loved
to give love
to make love.
Making love doesn't have to start
or finish in a bedroom
but anywhere
soft caring words an embrace a stroke of her hair
showing . some one how much you care.
Being alone
Sometimes I yearn just to hold someone
feel the warmth of her body
and kiss
that's something I really miss.
wrapped up in each others arms
by a warm log fire
on a cold winters day.
Watching a movie together
and listening to what each others has to say.
Giving caring sharing
and maybe something more daring.
Someone you can implicitly trust
faithful to quench your lust
a must.
Getting in bed is much sweeter
when you love your señorita
and just not for kicks.
Just as God planned
the love between a married woman
and married man.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. Jan.
No one knows
Why you cry makoti
Death is beautiful
Lady barnard's ghost
Cooks a storm for the dead
Makoti:a young married woman
Lady barnard:a legendary ghost from colonial times south africa
I wanted to seduce a married woman a long time ago, I was consumed by lust.
I was a teenager at the time and my terrible sin filled Jehovah God with disgust.
I never seduced the woman, I didn't even try.
But if I said I didn't consider it, it would be a lie.
Every time that I saw that married lady, I felt Lust.
At the time, I was a person who God couldn't trust.
You may not understand why I'm confessing this, you may not understand at all.
I'm confessing my sin to show you how terrible lust is so that you can avoid the same pitfall.
Another man's wife
Why would you want to take a wife of another?
Destroy the world that they built and share together
Whilst there is plenty of fish in the sea
What would have possessed you Son?
Explain to me i need to understand
Stealing from a man's hand
A treasure so protected.
A dream he never wants to share with anyone
Consciously taking away his pride
Ripping him apart from his joy
The love of his life
Son! Make me understand because I don’t understand
How you find the strength to convince another's better part to be yours is a mystery to me.
Explain! Because this is a riddle
I wish to understand
What would have possessed you?
Sit down son,
Let’s have a talk
Let’s share your hidden thoughts
Make me understand
Please do
I want to know what drives you to the bed of married woman
What spirit would have possessed you? You call that love?
ls it love or a game of lust, filled with privileges and no responsibilities.
Son! This game always ends with a knife at your throat
Stay away
Written by Tawona Mzila Ranganawa
You are the tiger lily,
of my idle mind.
I dream of your unhappiness,
so that one day
you'd be mine.
I known feeling this is not the good thing
The thing is I just feel like turning back the clock
I feel like the time has come to stop living in the shadows
I am not inlove with my husband
This was really my mistake
He’s money consumed me
I wanted to live the dream I always fantasied
But now that I face reality all is hard
I miss my former lover his words keep ringing
Now that I am married to this soul
In my dreams I dream of my once lover
We are in a very beautiful place
A place where him and I rule
If I really waited on him maybe this would have been reality
But now all I can do is dream of us
I pretend that I’m making love with him
How will I be able to get out of this?
Please forgive me and take me back
I long to be in your arms
I miss your stories, jokes and worse you.
I was never known to be flamboyant
more arcane from being quite quiet.
My best asset in business matters
was my intercessor abilities with
investigating those problems which
arise between the rights and wrongs.
My life has been bittersweet in many
ambivalent and quintessence ways.
The immolation of another to save
one's self is absolutely wrong. It is
like being with a married woman so
luscious in her sensual sexualities
and getting caught up in a less then
cerebral moment.
Those people who like to be very touchy
feely in a friendly way are looked upon as tactile.
What happens to their mindset when suddenly
they are befallen by a quiescent problem that
takes there ardent mobility away!
In these Days, We Prayed
April 12, 2013
ÉGHÉ (Time)
?
WÉGHÉ'
With time
The barren becomes pregnant
With time
The pregnant woman becomes a mother
With time
the mother becomes a daughter
With time
The married woman becomes a widow
With time
The childless widow becomes an object
Of obscurity and weak pity.
With time
An hero's deeds are told as stories
While great events become myths
And Once-Upon-A-Time.
For with time
Mountains metamorphose to sand
Rivers turn farmland
And Hills reduce to slime.
And time
frowns nor smiles on nothing
neither does he give nor take anything
for only a fool boast with a dime.
Oh time
you are too slow but yet so fast
For our tomorrow becomes yesterday
Like the uncertain colouration of a lime.
Man is a slave to time
As all men will answer to the call of time.
For the authority he exacts is divine
Nothing happens without the
Consent of time.
The past is Time
The present is Time
The future is Time
And Éghé himself is
Time..
?
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
How would I have any idea what I think, if I couldn’t read my own poetry?
When I sit to write poetry, my mind transforms the blank screen into a flurry of words and then sometimes a story that I had never heard before emerges.
The Hippy era in the 60's was rife with poets, and songwriters and public speakers all voicing their thoughts, their feelings, their dreams and their protests, and I was one of them. Through the life of a married woman, poetry was practically a forgotten art. Oh I still loved reading it and had a huge collection of poetry books by the greats, but rarely ever wrote a poem.
Then came a thing called COPD. Forced into retirement at 63, and within four years I was spending most of my time in a wheelchair. Little or no voice left, could only walk about 10 steps without gasping for breath.
Recently I found SOUP. I tried my hand at poetry again. Its become an obsession. It wasn’t only the poetry, it was the companionship of like minded people who were willing to encourage and praise others. Not working creates a doubt of self worth. Writing poetry restores that feeling. You can create something pleasurable for others. It’s a confidence booster. it’s a big part of my life now. I cant participate in activities, but I can write poetry.
I can sit by a lake or jump from a plane or climb a mountain, all from the safety of my wheelchair. I can fill a sleepless night by creating or just chatting to a mate. It feels like I am still alive.
I love you abundantly,
So many things made me to make you my first love, Oh ! dear Jeanette Mwenembuka Yohali Warally.
At 18 years old age you were married , conceived and did not abort me,
You accepted the labour pains to see me alive,
As a young married woman , you experienced so many strange things , sleepless night, my noise in your ears days and nights,
You tolerated my misbehaviours from early age to make me your best first born son,
You were my first best teacher before I met some school teachers and university professors,
Some religeous , traditional and political leaders ...
"Oh! my heroine."
You were the first person to hug and kiss me privately and publicly...
"Oh, my dearly Mum."
No human being on this earth will steal my heart like you did ...
"O' beautiful , loyal and wise Mum."
No one will see my beauty and take care for me more than you...
"Oh! Wonderful servant of Christ Jesus."
You will always be my number one until the day you will go to rest.
You deserve my first love forever and ever
March 07 / 2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by Regina Mclntosh
I read the sexiest man that a married woman knows
Is that guy who will clean the house
So I plugged in the vacuum cleaner
In an attempt to turn on my spouse
I made the beds and mopped the floors
Did the laundry and washed the dishes
I even cleaned the outside windows
For a chance to get my wishes
I scrubbed the tub and toilet, too
Used Lemon Pledge to dust the wood
I kept smiling the whole day through
Knowing my reward was going to be good
The trick seemed to work, she got all excited
And opened the drawer where sexy things she keeps
But when she returned all ready for me
I was in the bed and fast asleep
Black Friday
So here we are again
My reflection and I
The worst of friends
As we’ve always been
Surely nothing could be better
I am a happily married man
With a beautiful wife
And a lovely child
But something has grown
Out of the unknown
A latent energy
A mysterious
Creeping and suffocating
Loneliness
The reason for this
I can’t attempt to analyse
When I try, I cry out
With surprise
But I am surely mad
You may say
It can only come to bad
You may say
And yet it is there
A lurking, choking, mysterious
Loneliness
So here we are again
An evening full of pain
When all my work is done
When my wife and child have gone
And where are you?
Waiting on a wet Friday night
For your lovely child
To finish her dance classes
Surely something could be better
For an unhappily married woman
Returning to her home
Waiting for her drunken lover……..
Don’t get me wrong
No indecent proposals
Only a wish to share a common feeling-
Loneliness
Monika – this is just one moment
And we have to think of our lives
Our responsibilities.
But can I dare ask you -
Despite my religious restraints-
Despite the fact that my carnal desire
For you may seem like playing with fire-
Can I dare ask you-
Knowing that we are cautious adults-
Can we one black Friday night-
Share our loneliness together?
Maybe I’ve misread the signals-
Maybe I don’t know what I’m saying-
Don’t get worried about my suggestions
In an age of obsessive sexual insinuations-
I repeat one last time tonight
Can we share our loneliness together?
At 28 years old I decide to be bold
Knowing I needed to be remolded
With new knowledge so I
Enrolled in Phoenix University College online
I’m holding down a good GPA
Because of these teachers
Who give their time
But wait there’s more to say like why I came
As stay at home married woman,
I knew we needed more money coming our way
To take care of my hardworking man and our a baby kitten
So I listened to my intuition and
Financial aid is helping with my tuition
And I had to get some student loans
for that I am on my own
because I am full grown
learning to rezone and go with the flow
Even though the future is unknown
I will keep waiting for the day of graduation
Because it will be a day of celebration
My days as a married woman with children,
My husband Walter and i had a cottage at North Bay.
This was an A-frame cottage,
Beautiful near the lake.
Our sons Kirk and Erik liked playing on the shore,
We would go swimming in the water.
Then father Walter would take us in a row boat,
A cruise on the lake would guest.
I would cook the delicious food,
Father would gather firewood for the wood burning stove.
We would play games with the children in the living-room,
Like gin rummy and monopoly.
The cottage had an upper level and a lower level,
Decorated with care and love, very simple.
Very scenic and beautiful with tall birch trees.
The cottage had a picnic table on the deck where you could have lunch.
There was a fair portion of property with the cottage,
Seldom scenic and beautiful, what an awesome place.
Would take us about two hours to get there,
Walter would drive us to the North Bay cottage.
What good memories we have of this,
I am thankful to God for all these blessings.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz