Inn Poems - Poems about Inn

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

1066 at the Imagine Inn

"Ballinger's pride will be the death of him,"
Was the last muttering of the old cyclops before 
The poison took over. Never trust unicorn bartenders.

Young Gallimay, the town's token centaur,
Walked into this scene:
Serren's body laid across the bar.
Tempest the unicorn bartenders cleaned pint glasses. (All ladee-da.) 
Two old frog friends sat in the back with lagers,

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

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

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   

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

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

      
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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

Bethlehem Baby

While shepherds watched their flocks so white
All contemplating dusk,
Their ’phones received some breaking news
All thanks to Elon Musk.
His Tweet announced a virgin birth
In a stable by an inn,
They danced around the windswept heath
To a flute and violin.

In Bethlehem was born a child
A-sleeping in a crib,
They scrolled the Twitter crowd’s response 
And thought it rather glib.
The

Memories of the Drive-Inn Revisited

When I was young and a child
growing up in Discovery , Florida
South Africa 

1 of the few limited thing's we actually
had or could do was go the Drive-Inn 

There was Veldskoen , Hilfox , 5-Star
and Top-Star

But that's besides the point it's the
memory of the experience that keeps
coming back to me

Of the magic on a summer's

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

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