Best Neckline Poems


'pardon Me, Could You Pass the Grey Poupon'

Winds caressing fringes of
   her deep chocolate tresses
as tree nymphs nimbly hid
  midst fallen maple leaves 
    happily prancing round toes,
whilst a crescendo of chimes
   played off in near distances,
warm apple pie aroma wafting
 upon a zephyr tickling her nose,
unfastened her reddish cloak 
  for her e'er plunging neckline
exposed an ample décolletage
 voluptuously heaving in broad
 daylight waiting to seduce a crafty
wolf in sheep's clothing she had afore
  encountered on the way to grannies, 
called ahead to make reservations
for her & handsome knighted chef
hiding amidst the dark forest with
his trusty sharpened butcher knife,
had acquired Wolfgang Puck's
   wickedly-satisfying secret recipe
        for savory pack-of-wolves stew 


Li'l Reddish Revenge is a dish best served cold-blooded with liberal
scads of punitive napkins and a bottle of vindictively chilled Chianti
© Paloma P  Create an image from this poem.

Our Last Kiss

A string of white pearls adorned her neckline

accenting that perfect little yellow dress

 her silken hazel hair pulled back

showing off a most angelic face

she was glowing

and she couldn't stop smiling

I remember it like it was yesterday

she was so excited

meeting a friend for dinner

a friend that needed a shoulder to cry on

one she hadn't seen in many a long moon.

The clock struck seven and it was time to go

I so remember telling her to have fun

and I'd see her when she got home

She gave me a goodbye kiss and headed out the door

How was I to know?

How could anyone know?

It was a kiss just like hundreds of other kisses

no, not your drawn out passionate kiss

no, not the I love you more than anything kiss

oh how I wish it were

it was a see you soon sweetheart kiss

How was I to know?

How could anyone know?

this would be our last kiss

my last remembrance

the last time I could say I love you

for the restaurant she went to

yes it was that restaurant 

the one where all dreams perished

where empty hearts cry

where mothers and sons

fathers and daughters

and dreams all died
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Drink Me

I often think
In darker times
It's pointless toil
Creating rhymes

For what do rhymes
Achieve, and such?
Perfection strives
For words to clutch

Some faint idea
Some headlocked chat -
It smiles, then fades
Like Cheshire Cat

Chasing thought
Down rabbit hole
Succeed or fail
No heads will roll

From bitter world
To jammy tart
Where sweetness lives
In printed heart

No grumpy queen
No neckline threats
Beguiling words
This soul begets

Perhaps, in time
Simplistic notion
Can be transformed 
With the right potion 

Perhaps, if time 
Allows, we will
Through heartfelt words
Our dreams fulfill
© Sam Scott  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Oak Leaf Necklace

Maroon leaves loop the skyline's soft shine,
claret pearls on the sun's neckline.

Copyright, November 18, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson

Premium Member Top-Heavy Trudy

When top-heavy Trudy went drinking

She noticed the men were all blinking

     Her low neckline falling

     Dear Lord, it’s appalling

That Trudy’s own “three eyes” were winking

  

*Written June 11, 2014

Premium Member Necklace of Pearls

Teetering on a fine line
stretching across the western horizon,
suspended fire, glowing orange-red ball,
slowly receding, slipping downward
until, just out of sight,
split into a thousand shades and tints
like fine lead crystal, broken,
pastel fragments scattered on the clouds,
a pearl necklace encircling
the sky’s bare neckline
before evening’s black velvet cloak
encircles her shoulders.

Copyright, August 13, 2016


Grand Canyon Is Waiting

My journey starts from the point
where your neckline takes a sudden plunge,
a path trodden so many times
yet again becomes unfamiliar..
tip-toeing along those mountaneous curves
I reach the top of it
to conquer the peaks once again.
Call of deep valley from below
accompanied by your soft song
makes me  come down there,
our sky is deep blue now
with birds in their pleasure-fly.
I must not stop here as I know
below downwards the Grand Canyon is waiting,
I must take a dip there..
reaching at the edge of it
I listen to the wild beats of drums
festival night is drawing closer..
and as I prepare to take a plunge
I know another earth quake is awaiting...

© 2011 kashinath karmakar
==========================
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member You Tease Me So Nicely

His interest awakens as a young woman
sauntered in the pub as he laid eyes on her bosom.
Enticing from the moment he saw her.
Her skin purrs of warm weather
copper honeysuckle, her eyes 
waves' deep royal blue skies.
She wears a black plunging neckline leather dress
hugging her form, outlining every wonderful
feminine curve. She's striking and beautiful.
His thoughts a blur while she leans teasing
with eloquent banter.
With a smile she kicked off her black patent five
inch heels, singing as the riff of the music came alive
filling the room. He sought her unable to turn away 
her teasing resistance and her friendly, bantering play.
He heard the rhythm trying his hardest to keep his distance.
Her wavy red hair loose a riot around her face
as she listens and dances across the room,
while the rest of her long locks fell down her back.
With the music going she closed her eyes
and did a little spin, there was a delectable teasing,
bright smile when she opened her eyes.

You tease me     so nicely.

2-3-2018
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Genesis of An Idea

I saw a young lady today who had a tattoo that covered up her arm, 
It wrapped it up completely but it only added to her charm. 

The tat she had was bold and it caused me to do a double take, 
Because on her body was tattooed a coiled and smiling snake. 

Its leering head appeared from over the top of her left shoulder, 
And it gazed down the front of her shirt at something even bolder. 

From the neckline of her tank top was revealed some kind of fruit, 
Her bosom was changed into a tempting apple, to hide it now was moot. 

Even though I could only see the stem, my imagination filled in the rest, 
I tried to not think about her orchard but it put my will power to the test. 

A lesson about temptation was being taught to all who came to seek, 
I’m sure that it will lead some Adam astray if he should sneak a peek. 

Her tattoo was ripe for the picking and it seemed she had a bumper crop. 
But just like Sir Isaac Newton’s apple someday hers will also drop. 

So let this stand as a warning and be careful which symbol you select, 
Remember that the artwork that you choose is the image that you’ll project. 

At nineteen nothing is cuter than a pair of angel wings so feathery, 
When you’re old they’ll remind you that the end is near on skin that is so leathery. 

But she did inspire me to get a tattoo and so to the parlor I did go, 
I got the universal recycle symbol on the bottom of my big toe. 

So when my time is done and I’ve finished my walk along life’s path, 
They’ll attach my toe tag in the morgue and I’ll get one last laugh.
© Tony Lane  Create an image from this poem.

A Christmas Romance

A Christmas gown worn to delight.
Oh, how I must dress for romance!
My heart skips for his, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
One kiss then to his sleigh, he goes.

Oh, how I must dress for romance!
A plunging neckline might entice.
Soft candle glow and mistletoe 
might slow his pace this whirlwind night.

My heart skips for his, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
His snow white beard tickles my cheek.
Anticipation weakens me.
A diamond ring waits ‘neath my tree!

One kiss and to his sleigh, he goes,
but New Year’s Day, I’ll make him mine.
I’ll wear a veil of red and white
and Christmas gown for his delight! 
 

Written for Debbie's Shall We Retourne Contest, 11/16/15

Dance With Me

It was another senior high school dance,
 and it was you that asked me to go 
 the graduated senior home on holiday, in the know,
 those old memories had made you miss your chance;
but it was me with two left feet
 trampling toes on that floor in shame and defeat;
the well-worn gym was decorated for the fall festival
 colors of autumn in passing, yellow, orange and brown
and your reputation revived as the old class clown
 and I, loving you my high school crush back in town.

The pleated dacron dress was a rounded neckline high
 snug on my shoulders glowing with turquoise flowered sighs
 that somehow matched your well-pressed suit and tie
 as my father frowned seeing your hand upon my thigh;
Mom, however, knew the drill and simply said he should remember
 and off we hurried to the dance that late November
what a story we could tell, those days of teenagers ready to rebel,
 shortening my skirt as we left the old Chevrolet you loved so swell,
through the doors, we heard the music vibrating in quickened start
 and I never once denied you any dance because of my heart.

We would do the twist, the watusi, and the mashed potato
 and slow dances seemed so outdated
 but with the stroll, I could always catch your eye
 and  we 'd saunter off together in the Lady's Choice
while you sang to me in a deepened voice
 if only time could find its way
to return to those our best glory days
 when you and I were young, unafraid and believed we could fly
dancing to the dreams we had back then
 let's keep on dancing and believe we can do it all again.

Shake it, shake it, shake it baby.






for Kim Rodriguez's contest 
Dance with Me back to the 60s girl.
3/12/20
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Estimating Nine Months From Eskimo Kisses

ESTIMATING NINE MONTHS FROM ESKIMO KISSES

TUNDRA tunics
tendered,
holding hot
homeothermic
sentient swaddling,
stirred with
warm waves of
cocoa cresting charm,
bathed in barometric
swoon.
sweetheart neckline
netted nefariously
close -
charm capitulated.
frowns forever forlorn,
as aromatics allure —
cologne colonization,
fever-pitch
of friendship,
not so subtly
sensuous —
harbored hashtag,
blue breath
below freezing —
frenetic, freeing
OF ovulating applause.

12/4/2017

Diva With Human Touch -For Contest

Diva with human touch- for contest



Alighted she from her red limousine
Bedecked in A-line gown, pista green
Till the waist embroidered golden sheen
Satin silk with a halter neckline
Charming face and a vibrant smile!
Stiletto glassy gold with shiny stones
Diamonds green dangled from her earlobes
Clutch in hand golden green embellished with pearls
Nail art elegant studded with shimmers added extra glow
Glossy red lips, curly eye-lashes, glamour gushed in flow
Chiselled nose, magical eyes, hairstyle mussed beehive
She looked a mermaid of fairyland
With rosy cheeks and graceful style
Confident steps on the red carpet
Huge cheer from the umpteen fans
Gorgeous diva of dreams she was
Guys present had skipped heartbeat
Cameras flashed to click her pics
She looked seasoned to this paparazzi and glitz
Waved she her hands and sent flying kiss
Autographs from classy pen with golden nib
Chaperoned by a handsome guy,
reached the stage beautifully set for her
Mike in hand she addressed the crowd with I love you all....
Money I raise from my song tonight will go to my charity drive
To help shape future of the children from the war-torn land
Huge applause and then follows sweet song in her voice
Celebrated beauty she already was yet more  
beautiful her ways
Her charms always struck the sight but her tender heart won the soul!
© Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015

For contest: Puttin on the Ritz
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
Submitted on: 4th September 2015
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Let Me Feel Your Lines

beautiful arouse pleasure, thirst
                                         in red prowling Feline
                                      transform to glorious delight
                                      gown with plunging neckline 

                                          erotic visions steaithy
                                          cunning instinct feline
                                    flirtatious gaze escaping play
                                        engage divine guideline

By: Eve Roper 3/30/2015
Contest Name: Let Me Feel Your Lines “Ryhme”
Sponsored By: Nette Onclaud
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Pattern Failure

She handed me a pattern for her bridesmaid dress
Intricate it was, and the fabric was sleek
My sewing machine skipped ‘tween each stitch, I confess
Knowing some proportions I’d still have to tweak

Tessa had a figure resembling a milk carton
So I reinforced each thread by hand with great care
Some proportions were large, but she was no Dolly Parton
And there was not an inch of fabric left to spare

Each of the twelve panels that formed the bodice
Were ironed and carefully set into place
(It wasn’t the first gown I’d made; I was no novice)
You should have seen how I stretched the skimpy lace

A French stitch was needed to prevent any fraying
Each night for three weeks I spent hours on this dress
The neckline require extensive crocheting
Finally I brought it to her, hoping to impress

In the weeks that had passed, Tessa had overeaten
And the pattern size twelve should have now been eighteen
The gown was perfectly stitched, but her diet did sweeten
A mirror wouldn’t suffice; she needed a wide screen

I charged not a penny for the work I had done
While other bridesmaids paid four-hundred or more
As Tessa squeezed into the dress, seams came undone
In the rear she resembled a huge wild boar

Since there was no more fabric available
Little could be done to ease Tessa’s anger
Her accusations of incompetence were highly debatable
Her gown simply looked far better on a hanger


*True story.  Made many gowns and costumes for friends at no cost, but this was the last. LOL


Written Sunday, March 23, 2014 for Verlena S. Walker’s contest

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