Inn Poems | Examples

In the bustling inn

In the bustling inn
Most patrons are smoking 
I offered you one
Your eyes stiffened 

I laid before you 
A map of Hollywood 
Electricity at each step 
You looked unyielding 

Maybe you prefer 
Ripples of the river 
Just a gentle shiver 
From the tips of fingers 

Very well, my dear 
Please choose your own spring

Falling In the River Inn

Is Simbach Austrian? Is Braunau German?
Buda’s bumpy, Pest 
is flatter.
The Danube does it best.
Is history a palimpsest?
(Think Durer, think Blatter).
And spare me the sermon.
I forget the rest.
Does any of it really matter?

My Inn

My Inn by NoelsArt

Humans are a hotel.
Each day a new check in, 
Happy, Sad, Good, or Bad
Welcome to My Inn!

Smiling, “May I help you?”
“Here’s the key to Room 2.”
“Enjoy the breakfast buffet
and enjoy the coffee too.”

Smiling at my frown
Laughing at my sorrow,
“Okay, spend the night”
“But, begone by tomorrow.”

Be grateful to new check ins,
they’ve all been Uberred in,
in from where it all began, and
in from where it all will end.

Comments: Inspired "The Guest House" by Rumi

Outside Looking Inn

Hiding again from the dazzling sun
Why am I here, I’ve no clue
There’s no necessity to walk around
No urgent business to do
Sounds like I’m killing the time, but I’m not
It is exactly the opposite 
Time is the killer in this endless plot
With a space, an accomplice of it
It’s never a conscious purpose of mine
To sit in the Outside Looking Inn
One time its whiskey, one time its wine
And sometime a deluted gin
I wonder if Mr. Debussy comes round 
With his friends Ravel and Satie
I guess they would talk to themselves rather loud
It would have been quite a party
And I can imagine me in Deux Magots
Mr. Jean Paul Sartre puts his pipe out
And says if one proves what existence is for
I’ll buy for the house a round 
I’m pleasing myself with illusions, you’d say
I have to agree, in this place
Out of sight, my time shuffles away
With its old accomplice, a space.

At The Ramada Inn

At The Ramada Inn 

teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes
waitress with bleeding lips serves a silent sirloin
middle aged mother says the meat is too rare
bespectacled father stares at the impaled thing
says the leaking steak isn’t dead enough to eat 
bleeding waitress takes jiggling meat to the flames 
teenage boyfriend tells brown eyes he loves her
loves the windsong perfume she keeps in her purse
loves kissing her strawberry lips in the beige impala
teenage boyfriend daydreams now of holy matrimony 
of living in a two room duplex with two perfect children 
of driving the family into town with scapulars hanging
waitress with bleeding lips serves a screaming sirloin 
teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes

Our Family Vacation at Pine Tree Inn

    A few scattered yellow wood cabins
       a swimming pool surrounded by pines
    
    a pier to fish from, a lake not to go in
       ‘cept for the stinkpots* and sailboats                *i.e., motorboats

    marshmallow roasts by the campfire at dusk
      a ghost story or two to relate

    along with the hotdogs and burgers that day
      the ghosts evicted whatever we ate

One Morning At Inn

The sound of the rain
So soothing and relaxing
One morning at inn.

The George Inn

January years ago, confused far away I was with the cold.
Landed in Bristol on a snowy  airport, as snowed were the meadows and frosted my mind.
A trip to say hello and goodbye to a beloved one,
taking my hand, she closed her fading eyes into her last sigh. I saw the dark face of life
turning into the beauty of an angel flying.
Sad and freezing with a bag  full of mixed feelings, somebody took us to Norton St Philip in Somerset, just to have some fun. My husband and I were surprised.
Feeling blue we were, but soon the George Inn changed our sorrow into happiness.
Family shared moments for the history of our lives, photos  in the white snow for a new album, nice food and a toast with white wine in the George Inn, made my trip to England a especial memory to be remembered forever in my heart.
 
historic George Inn
~elegance in Somerset~
 locked deep in my soul

Jaded Holiday inn Frisco

Jaded holiday in Frisco ,
Where Paul Getty lost his marbles harbour

For a old dog tawg
Rumble a chick

Banjo medicine and black madness
Eager paws or void in of contempt

I can't roll dice at Coney island
Without a slow snow cone

Program for Rita ford
Or a lengthy draught of carpenter wood

Emagi Irwin Roadside Inn

T C Irwin A ROADSIDE INN

      
       ===========||
       ___|___  __  |_ _
      |                      |
      |     THE           |
      |         RED       |
      |           LION    |
      |  OPEN            |
      |____  _______|

Dew Drop Inn

Buttercup beautiful 
Reflect now on my chin
The face of my sweet bluebird
Let her image there sink in
Then travel through my body
Course within my veins
Reach my heart and live there
Forever to remain

Family Reunion At Oinkington Inn

Let’s stay at Oinkington Inn the easily pleased relative said.
Her husband looked at brochure and said I’d rather be dead.
The pigs are lovely, she replied. There is nothing to dread.
He told her to go to her family reunion with her cousin Ned.

The sows and hogs were truly placated and fine.
We visited them near an old abandoned crystal mine.
You should come next time to the reunion, she said.
Best part is, a sow ran off with my mean cousin Ned.

Pretty Seaside Inn

Sparkles dance on water as the sunset leaves it's glow
The rhythmic sounds are soothing as the waves all ebb and flow
Lulled by ocean magic, in sleep she sails away
Till early morning seagulls call to greet another day
She sips upon her coffee at this pretty seaside Inn
Then dons her hat and heads on out to meet him for a swim

Staying In An Inn

Whilst once staying in an inn
One place he had never been
Daring dance with Bonnie Lynne
Begins by waltzing with him
She spun in her crinoline
Bold beaus would vie for a spin
Hoping a chance glance to win
Her heart now though won within

A Pastoral Poem About An Inn Keeper

Come all, Come live 
Watch with pleasures 
The beauty of the Inn 
How the merriment goes 

And with pleasures all watch 
The shepherds bring in their sheeps 
All coming in with smiling face 
And we will sit upon the benches 

Seeing how they feed their flocks 
Seeing how interesting animals can be 
And watching with excitement 
I will make thy bed of baboons

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