Long Pear shaped Poems
Long Pear shaped Poems. Below are the most popular long Pear shaped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pear shaped poems by poem length and keyword.
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o o
o Loving o
o Giving o
o Caring o
o o
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o o
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o o
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The Creator designed some mighty ridiculous looking creatures.
Among them are the kangaroos with some very curious features!
One of them is its massive tail that balances its pear-shaped frame.
But I suppose 'tis that ponderous pouch that really gives it fame!
With its hind legs it kicks like a mule much like that of rabbits.
(Oft I've pondered - does it exhibit the rabbits's prolific habits?)
Kangaroos don't pollute the atmosphere due to its virtual absence,
(Unlike that well-known curse of cattle) of bloated bowels of flatulence!
Little joeys lounge about in the pouch like an extra piece of luggage.
(I assume should she be blessed with triplets there'd be ample storage!)
Down Under is famous for its G'days, boomerangs and Steve Irwin's zoos,
But we're probably more familiar with those ungainly, cantankerous kangaroos!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 7 in Nikko's "Yay for "K" Contest - October 2010
Life is a bastard son, prodding the fertile horizon
poking into places tender, tearing the expanse of dawn
he taunts, rude and bellicose, so full of himself
spewing into the weakest streams, a wet dream.
With platitudes he prances, son of a fearsome father
promising eternity, singing a lover's song of praise.
Light bearer, holder of the golden scalpel, night cutter
leaving glare where softness once held sway.
May the abyss, the gentle dark, the yin forgive you..son.
From the pear-shaped loins of sister Eve, you have burst
washed in the waters of she, a caul of white adorned,
pray, stay your hand, do not bludgeon your better half.
Existence, endless, fleeting, meld and join this randy pair
for universes swing between this bastard and his dreams.
Dedicated to my muse Brenda Atry
please read her "Black Diamond Night"
I stand here beneath a beautiful fig tree, all filled with it's tiny flower blooms. I am looking for it's luscious fruit, the delicious pear-shaped fruit upon her branches. Ready to pick makes my mouth water, I cannot wait to eat. I love her figs cooked with meat, jam on warm toast is just a treat. Fig honey, is truly heavenly. Now for it's large leaves with three to five lobes, I want to make a fig dress for me to wear.
Date Written:3/28/2022
Oh,my dear pear shaped mother's womb, Where unborn baby develops and grows well, Like a fruit that grows on a plant's blume, And it has a consciousness of its own like a cell.
Oh, my dear lovely secured locker, Which acts as a guard against external threats, Such as light, sound and shock acting as a blocker, And it saves future generations as valuable assets.
Oh ,my dear beautiful muscle container, Which floats the unborn child in the odourless fluid, And it supplies all safeguards to the new gainer, Who doesn't breathe air in the safe womb kit.
Oh my dear fantastic flexible protector, Which makes the foetus to sleep twelve hours every day, Its slightly yellowish fluid used as a sweet nectar, And pediatricians are astonished by its role play.
Oh,my dear first class room of the unborn baby, Which provides parental learning for the new born , Where foundations of traits are established greatly , Nothing is equal to mother's womb like the dawn.
Santa Clauses were to be molten and reshaped into Holy Cross bunnies
on a mega 3D printer but then the app somehow went wrong
Chocolate trickled and trifled and mixed with fake season’s greetings
King Kong and Godzilla leaped off the assembly line with
Witches on lolly pop brooms and then the whole show went viral
Mephistopheles aliens with marshmallow ears danced merrily
Suddenly truffle snakes in seductive icing sugar bikinis tested tempted
cotton sugar candy apples as big as paradise vowed and allowed
They all swirled swished and tumbled to cacophonous tunes that had
to be labelled as retro and neo-modern-classical rap-sorties
At the exit of malfunctioning malls the Easter display went a tad pear-shaped
as soon as the rabbits slipped out of their hats and mounted the chickens
The mistress and master of ceremonial clangour had at problem at hand
and some egg on their faces thus they squirted and squinted
They pondered and squandered with no solution untouched for the task
how to make more profits and be politically correct just the same
‘Megalomania’ and ‘Mega-High-Money’ the respective CEO’s of ‘Turn water into
wine’ and the start-up ‘Chocolate Merry Go Round for the Soul’
Could not fail in this venture as not to have their heathen bonuses
dissolved into cocoa mousse splash
After meetings and brain storms pilot studies and polls they decided to craft
a whole new religion (the Independent Unseasonal Reformed Epiphanists)
Fortunately the United Philistines of Consumption were too busy to notice that
the newly created faithful were simply rehashing an old dogma of money
What a shame that those lovely chocolate coins have gone out of fashion and
That Buddhists would not want their spiritual model to melt under the fig tree
09th April 2018 Written for the contest Easter 2018
A clenching of our hands,
A clinging of our bands.
The sweet aroma of your strawberry-coated strands,
Allow my capability to disarm your fragility.
Pent-up anticipation will meet expectation,
You adorn your shield-maiden attire,
Encouragement to set your onyx rose on fire.
Peeling, petal by petal, stitch by stitch,
Disarming that body metal.
Steel-clad discarded,
Billowing towards her pear-shaped derriere.
Lifting you off your feet,
Give me the sweet treasures I wish to taste—
The nectar of vanilla.
Lay back as I extract
Bridled years of frustration.
Call me your salvation,
Made anew,
Basking in the afterglow of you.
BANG
BANG
BANG
A repeated rapping on my door..
Weary eyed and drowsy,
I lost my balance and met the floor.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
"Open up you lazy bum, open your door!!"
I gather myself after the fall,
stumbling into the wall.
It took me a while, but I reached my goal.
"About time"
my friend said ..
He wanted to hit the strip club.
Depressed from lost love.
Hungry,
with the sex munchies,
reluctantly,
I gave in.
I get dressed like a female
so it took some time.
I had to grease my braids,
cover with a plastic cap,
to shower..
Shave my face...
What to wear?
as I stand naked and stare.
I chose a white long sleeved under shirt
Ralph Lauren jeans.
A red pullover vest,
strapped silver around my neck,
With high top Jordan's on my feet.
Red,
To match my attire.
Tie my Durag tight,
white,
covered by my NY cap,
red.
which I had bought the day before.
I am big on my appearance.
We started the night of right,
put something funky in air.
Alcoholic mixed drinks,
This is how we prepare.
Glossy eyed and tipsy,
pear shaped booties everywhere.
Short mini skirts,
spaghetti straps,
and stiletto's.
Chances to flirt,
inspired and relaxed,
my confidence grows!!
another one night stand,
perhaps....
I dance!!!!
Jared Pickett
1/23/2010
Asavvy1
At the font of her own misery she wept silently
beneath a parapet sky of midnight blue
Silver stars enmeshed and softened the water
as she drew closer to the only venue of comfort
she knew, ...
Amongst the conference of moon's effulgence
lay a quiet angel listening
to the in and outs, of a sweet girl's breath
A pear shaped tear fell on her pillowed cheek
not a spark from the heavens could rouse her
not a single whisper from Jala could end
the sorrow that threatened to engulf her being ;
At the brink of disaster a healing hand reached out
softer then the caress of the breeze
gentler then the brush of wings
As she stood beneath the silver stars eyes glistening,
she found the edge line of the water and giving it
once last look, she embraced her fears and jumped..
June 23, 2021
Contest Name: The Shape Of Water
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
La peregrina, why do I pick you from all the jewels of the world ?
Not because you were a fifty -eight and a half carat pear-shaped drop pearl
hanging gayly on enchantress Elizabeth Taylor's chest,
or because you belonged to English royalties ,and held by Buonaparte' hands,
Nor because you were presented by king Philip of Spain to bloody Mary
as a token of his never-ending love .I pick you because indeed you wandered from afar.
You were the fortune of an African slave.,where He found you five hundred years ago
in the coast of the isle of Santa Margarita, Spain.
He bartered freedom in exchange. That makes you indeed a gem,
A treasure trove in an oyster-shell. Its you I'd love to own
Not for your natural nacre colour, nor the chatoyant luster or your size,
But for being the reward, to a man who worked fingers to bone
just to have his freedom back, and be the master of his life.
Freedom- May we always cherish it.
For Carolyn Devonshire's contest
(A Gem For Your Verse )